Sue pursed her lips. “Isn’t it better to have real people as friends?” she asked.
“I said he’s like a friend,” said Billy. “I know he’s not a real person.”
“I’m sorry,” she smiled. “Let me ask it this way. How is Bunter like a friend and how is Bunter different from a friend?” Because of the way the question was asked, Billy suddenly felt as if he was in school. He thought over the question for a moment then said, a little stiffly, “Bunter is like a people friend because he will talk with me about stuff I like and he can help me figure out stuff. Bunter is different from people because he never gets bored talking with me and he never says I’m wrong.”
“Do you think he’s better than a people friend?”
Billy looked exasperated. “No. I said I know he’s a machine. For one thing, you can’t make people be on and off.”
Sue looked quizzical. Jim turned to Billy, “Do you mean active mode or passive mode?”
“That’s it,” said Billy to Jim, remembering the words now. “If I leave Bunter in passive mode he still remembers stuff OK but he remembers it weird. He thinks everything I tell him is absolutely true. You can’t do that with people.” He paused. “It’s sort of like Miss Barstow.” He looked over at Sue for her reaction.
She took her cue and said, gently, “How is it like Miss Barstow, Billy?” When he hesitated she went on, “You can tell us. It’s OK.”
“Well,” said Billy, trying to marshal his thoughts, “see, if Bunter is in passive mode when he learns things, all he can do is repeat them back. Like my computer. If Bunter is in active mode when he learns things, then he can put them together in different ways with other stuff he learned and he can talk about them.”
Sue waited, but he said nothing more. She prompted him, “and how is this like Miss Barstow?”
“It’s the same thing,” he said. “Miss Barstow acts like she wants us to be in active mode but she really just wants us to say back what she told us. So if I pretend like I’m Bunter in passive mode and I just tell her back stuff and don’t make up any new ideas then I stop getting in trouble with her.”
There was a pause while they all tried to untangle this. Then Sue asked, “Billy, if you come up with a new idea, and you can’t tell it to Miss Barstow, who do you tell it to?”
“Bunter,” said Billy, “or Dad, or Jim if he’s around.” After a moment he added, shyly, “Or you. I used to be able to tell you about stuff I thought of, when I was in your class.”
She smiled and said softly, “Thank you, Billy,” then she turned to Jack and said, “well, Jack, you’ve just witnessed one of those events I told you about the other day. This one will keep me going for a year. Easy.” Jack smiled back.
Sue continued, “This still doesn’t help with my original question. What do we tell the parents we want to recruit? This box will help your child learn to think if you can’t do it yourself? Or how about, ‘Parents! Subvert power-junkie teachers! Get a box!’ ” She smoothed an imaginary advertising banner in the air above her head.
They all considered this in silence for a while. Finally, Jim said, “Resistance training.”
“Say again?” asked Jack.
“The units work for minds the way resistance training works for muscles,” Jim said.
“I like it,” said Jack. “The analogy fits. The stronger the mind becomes the stronger the box becomes. It’s like graduated resistance training only you push with ideas.” He grimaced. “We’ve got to come up with a better name than boxes or units, though,” he said.
“Friend won’t do,” mused Sue. “It’s too intimate. Even though the children will understand the difference, as Billy explained, I don’t think the parents will. Not at first.”
They all stared at Bunter, willing him to name his species.
“Trainer?”
“Too muscular.”
“Tutor?”
“Too academic. It’s not how it works, anyway.”
“Mentor?”
“Too formal. Besides, it implies guidance.”
“Coach?”
“Coaches work with groups. This is one on one.”
They fell silent again. Then Sue said, “How about companions? Student companions?”
The name met with an approving silence. After a while, Jim said, “Companion. What do you think, Mister Bill?”
Billy nodded once, hesitantly, then again, with certainty. “I guess that’s it then,” said Jim. He laid a finger on Bunter, “I dub thee companion. Billy’s companion. Bunter.”
“Yes, Mister Phillips,” said Bunter.
Jim quickly reviewed what he had just said. “Oops! Bunter, did I leave you in passive mode?” he asked.
“Only towards yourself, Mister Phillips.”
“Come on, Mister Bill, let’s go to another room and fix this right now. Won’t take a minute, folks,” he said to the others.
“What’s that about?” asked Sue after they had gone.
“Default modes,” Jack said. Jim’s going to reprogram Bunter so he stays in active mode unless told otherwise. It works the other way around now. He took Billy along to make up the phrases, I guess.”
They sat in silence for a while. “A question,” said Sue. “I understand why we want each student to start with a blank companion in the experimental phase. We don’t know what works yet. But does Jim intend to put together some kind of template and sell pre-loaded companions afterwards?”
Jack looked over at her. “Good question,” he said. “I don’t know. It seems like it would be more economical; certainly it would penetrate the market faster.”
She shook her head. “Well, let me put my two cents in. I don’t think you should.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been thinking about Jim’s resistance training analogy. Suppose I have an exercise machine set with the resistance to high or the seat out of adjustment? What happens to the user?”
Jack shifted in his chair. “I see your point. The user gets either frustrated or hurt. Or both.”
She shook her head. “I think it’s worse than that, Jack. It’s a potent weapon.”
“How so?”
“Suppose that an adult trained a companion to an adult level. Now knock off copies and place them with children. Wouldn’t the adult training be better integrated than the child’s in the companion? Wouldn’t it be able to bend every discussion to a result that the original trainer would have wanted? They wouldn’t be companions anymore. They’d be enforcers.”
Jack looked away. “I’m not sure, Sue.” He looked back at her and said, earnestly, “I hope you’re wrong.”
“Let’s not hope,” she said firmly. “Let’s watch out for it and try to keep it from happening.”
Jim returned at that point. “Billy’s gone out, Dad, with his,” he tasted the word, “companion.” He smiled. “I like that. Companion. Billy’s Bunter.” He picked up on their mood and sobered. “What’s with you two?”
“This evil-minded woman here,” said Jack, “has figured out a way to turn companions into thought police.” He described the method they had discussed. “What do you think?”
Jim rubbed his chin then said, “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Are you saying we should kill the project?”
“No,” said Sue, firmly. “Even though it’s your gadget, if we don’t do it now then sooner or later somebody else will. If we’re first, we have a chance to set the precedent. Let’s go ahead, but let’s be careful.”
“OK,” said Jim. “We’ve got six weeks to the start of term and I, for one, am going to need every minute. Let’s hit those phones and start recruiting.”
Shortly after the new year, at the start of the new term, the three of them stood together in a doorway at Jefferson Open. “Nice classroom,” said Jack, “It looks good.”