 If Karen remains in her current state long-term, what would most likely happen?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories November 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The mesh-covered hole and the two lights looked like a caricature of a face, set in a panel of dials. How do you describe being weightless when you are born into a world bound by gravity. There was no sensation of place, no feeling of up or down, no direction. After the first shock of looking out, I accepted the fact that I was in a space ship, yet I couldn't read the maps that were fastened to a table, nor understand the function or design of the compact machinery. It was the only thing I saw that could help me, guard me against another shock like seeing outside of the clear portholes. He was as still as death, motionless without warmth or breath as I hovered over him. The eyelid remained open until I closed it and went on. Everything lay in readiness, fastened down star charts, instruments, glittering equipment. It waited for human hands to make it operate. This room was filled with equipment that formed a room out of the bordered area I stood in. The ports on the side were shielded and I stared out at static energy, hung motionless in a world of searing light. What speeds and perhaps, what distance? They stood for anything I might guess, and something kept pricking my mind, telling me I had no time to guess. Did that mean ... in time ... in time. She lay on a cot, young and beautiful, even in the death-like immobility I had come to accept. Her beauty was graceful lines of face and her figure—smooth tapering legs, soft curves that were carved out of flesh colored stone. Four people in all, depending on a blind helpless fool who didn't know their names or the reason for that dependence. I went from the nose to the last bulkhead in a frenzy of floating motion, looking behind each door until I went as far as I could. It meant the engine or engines took up half the ship, cut off from the forward half by the instrument studded shield. The silence was a force in itself, pressing down from the metal walls, driving me back to the comforting smallness of the room where I had been reborn. I had literally been reborn in this room, equipped with half ideas, and no point to start from, no premise to seek.
 She probably wouldn't be able to create, transform, or assess compounds very well.
 She probably wouldn't be able to create, transform, or assess compounds very well.  She probably would avoid any advances from David or the others because she's less trusting of any of them.  She'd probably end up learning how to do someone else's job instead so she can help the crew out in some way.  She'd probably try to exit the ship at the first planet they land on so she doesn't deplete the ship's resources more than needed.