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they'd probably leave him alone.
He dug into his early supper with new enthusiasm.
VI
FROELICH drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch and tried to keep his
eyes from the steadily changing seascape that occupied the far wall. As usual,
Oristano's office was an island of peace and tranquility in the Colligatarch
Complex, a mirror image of die Chief Programmer himself. Despite what they'd
been told, he could see no outward difference in Oristano, could detect no
ruffling of that grandfatherly exterior.
Dhurapati sat in the other chair, her white duty suit immaculate, diffused
light setting the small ruby in her nose asparkle. She looked as confused as
Froelich felt. It was good to know he had some emotional company.
"I'd like some details," he murmured.
Oristano laughed softly. The Third Programmer's first request was always for
more information. "I'd like some myself, Emil. So would the machine."
"What I don't understand," Dhurapati Ponnani said in her diminutive but
unwavering voice, "is why it refuses to implement extraordinary security
procedures if it thinks there's an extraordinary threat."
"I tried to explain," Oristano replied patiently. "It is so uncertain about
the precise nature of the threat, where and when it will manifest itself, that
it believes implementation of unusual procedures could be more damaging than
helpful. It doesn't want to alarm whoever's behind this."
Froelich shrugged, the soft flesh of his shoulders and upper arms quivering.
He was fond of fried foods, wurst, and dark beer. He coped by taking no
exercise whatsoever. All his muscle had gone to his brain.
"I'm not going to argue with the machine, but you must understand our
feelings, Martin. On the one hand we have this melodramatic threat, on the
other a refusal to do anything about it."
"Not 'anything.'" Oristano gestured at the sheaf of printouts each of them had
received. "Those are the measures."
Froelich shifted his bulk uneasily, didn't glance the papers. He'd already
memorized the contents. "It hardly seems sufficient."
"I know, but I've queried until I'm sick of it, and that's what it recommends
we do." Taking note of their continued unease he added, "I don't mind saying
that this business frightens and confuses me as much as it must both of you."
"Confusing, yes," said Dhurapati. "I'm not convinced there's fright involved.
Not yet."
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Oristano pressed a finger to his lips. "Are you suggesting that the
Colligatarch is having delusions? That there is no threat?"
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"Hasn't that occurred to you?" She stared hard at him.
"I had considered it," he admitted. "I discarded it after running backchecks
to my satisfaction. I can show you the records. The Colligatarch can simulate
many emotions. Paranoia is not among them."
"How do we know?" asked Dhurapati. "There's never been a machine like the
Colligatarch before. We all are subject to regular stability checks. Who
checks the machine? A hundred years of changes and modifications, two hundred
years of steady operation trying to solve all of mankind's daily problems:
who's to say it's not subject to mental breakdown?"
"The technicians and monitors and stability programs," Oristano replied, "and
they all say there's nothing amiss, nothing wrong, nothing even to hint at
such a collapse of reasoning facilities. Since there is no sign of
cyberchosis, it follows that the propounded threat exists."
"I'd just like more information," said Froelich.
"If such information were available, this little meeting wouldn't be
necessary, Emil. Nor would the measures specified in your handouts. You know
that."
"I know." Froelich stifled a belch. "But it's hard to get used to all this,
Martin. It's very hard to get used to the' idea of the Colligatarch's being
scared. We're so used to thinking of it as allgegenwartig...
omnipotent."
"It would be the first to deny that, Emil. And it's not scared. Concerned,
yes. Fright is reserved for those of us who employ less linear modes of
thought."
"We'll do as it suggests, of course." Froelich lifted himself off the couch. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]