"No guess, Congressman," said Shuman. "He computed that result. He did it on this sheet of paper."
"Humbug," said the general impatiently. "A computer is one thing and marks on paper are another."
"Explain, Aub," said Shuman.
"Yes, Programmer. – Well, gentlemen, I write down seventeen and just underneath it, I write twenty-three. Next, I say to myself: seven times three – "
The congressman interrupted smoothly, "Now, Aub, the problem is seventeen times twenty-three."
"Yes, I know," said the little Technician earnestly, "but I start by saying seven times three because that’s the way it works. Now seven times three is twenty-one."
"And how do you know that?" asked the congressman.
"I just remember it. It’s always twenty-one on the computer. I’ve checked it any number of times."
"That doesn’t mean it always will be, though, does it?" said the congressman.
"Maybe not," stammered Aub. "I’m not a mathematician. But I always get the right answers, you see."
"Go on."
"Seven times three is twenty-one, so I write down twenty-one. Then one times three is three, so I write down a three under the two of twenty-one."
"Why under the two?" asked Congressman Brant at once.
"Because – " Aub looked helplessly at his superior for support. "It’s difficult to explain."
Shuman said, "If you will accept his work for the moment, we can leave the details for the mathematicians."
Brant subsided.
Aub said, "Three plus two makes five, you see, so the twenty-one becomes a fifty-one. Now you let that go for a while and start fresh. You multiply seven and two, that’s fourteen, and one and two, that’s two. Put them down like this and it adds up to thirty-four. Now if you put the thirty-four under the fifty-one this way and add them, you get three hundred and ninety-one and that’s the answer."
There was an instant’s silence and then General Weider said, "I don’t believe it. He goes through this rigmarole and makes up numbers and multiplies and adds them this way and that, but I don’t believe it. It’s too complicated to be anything but homswoggling."
"Oh no, sir," said Aub in a sweat. "It only seems complicated because you’re not used to it. Actually, the rules are quite simple and will work for any numbers."
"Any numbers, eh?" said the general. "Come then." He took out his own computer (a severely styled GI model) and struck it at random. "Make a five seven three eight on the paper. That’s five thousand seven hundred and thirty-eight."
"Yes, sir," said Aub, taking a new sheet of paper.
"Now," (more punching of his computer), "seven two three nine. Seven thousand two hundred and thirty-nine."
"Yes, sir."
"And now multiply those two."
"It will take some time," quavered Aub.
"Take the time," said the general.
"Go ahead, Aub," said Shuman crisply.
Aub set to work, bending low. He took another sheet of paper and another. The general took out his watch finally and stared at it. "Are you through with your magic-making, Technician?"
"I’m almost done, sir. – Here it is, sir. Forty-one million, five hundred and thirty-seven thousand, three hundred and eighty-two." He showed the scrawled figures of the result.
General Weider smiled bitterly. He pushed the multiplication contact on his computer and let the numbers whirl to a halt. And then he stared and said in a surprised squeak, "Great Galaxy, the fella’s right."
The President of the Terrestrial Federation had grown haggard in office and, in private, he allowed a look of settled melancholy to appear on his sensitive features. The Denebian war, after its early start of vast movement and great popularity, had trickled down into a sordid matter of maneuver and countermaneuver, with discontent rising steadily on Earth. Possibly, it was rising on Deneb, too.
And now Congressman Brant, head of the important Committee on Military Appropriations, was cheerfully and smoothly spending his half-hour appointment spouting nonsense.
"Computing without a computer," said the president impatiently, "is a contradiction in terms."
"Computing," said the congressman, "is only a system for handling data. A machine might do it, or the human brain might. Let me give you an example." And, using the new skills he had learned, he worked out sums and products until the president, despite himself, grew interested.
"Does this always work?"
"Every time, Mr. President. It is foolproof."
"Is it hard to learn?"
"It took me a week to get the real hang of it. I think you would do better."
"Well," said the president, considering, "it’s an interesting parlor game, but what is the use of it?"
"What is the use of a newborn baby, Mr. President? At the moment there is no use, but don’t you see that this points the way toward liberation from the machine. Consider, Mr. President," the congressman rose and his deep voice automatically took on some of the cadences he used in public debate, "that the Denebian war is a war of computer against computer. Their computers forge an impenetrable shield of counter-missiles against our missiles, and ours forge one against theirs. If we advance the efficiency of our computers, so do they theirs, and for five years a precarious and profitless balance has existed.
"Now we have in our hands a method for going beyond the computer, leapfrogging it, passing through it. We will combine the mechanics of computation with human thought; we will have the equivalent of intelligent computers; billions of them. I can’t predict what the consequences will be in detail but they will be incalculable. And if Deneb beats us to the punch, they may be unimaginably catastrophic."
The president said, troubled, "What would you have me do?"
"Put the power of the administration behind the establishment of a secret project on human computation. Call it Project Number, if you like. I can vouch for my committee, but I will need the administration behind me."
"But how far can human computation go?"
"There is no limit. According to Programmer Shuman, who first introduced me to this discovery – "
"I’ve heard of Shuman, of course."
"Yes. Well, Dr. Shuman tells me that in theory there is nothing the computer can do that the human mind can not do. The computer merely takes a finite amount of data and performs a finite number of operations upon them. The human mind can duplicate the process."
The president considered that. He said, "If Shuman says this, I am inclined to believe him – in theory. But, in practice, how can anyone know how a computer works?"
Brant laughed genially. "Well, Mr. President, I asked the same question. It seems that at one time computers were designed directly by human beings. Those were simple computers, of course, this being before the time of the rational use of computers to design more advanced computers had been established."
"Yes, yes. Go on."
"Technician Aub apparently had, as his hobby, the reconstruction of some of these ancient devices and in so doing he studied the details of their workings and found he could imitate them. The multiplication I just performed for you is an imitation of the workings of a computer."
"Amazing!"
The congressman coughed gently, "If I may make another point, Mr. President – The further we can develop this thing, the more we can divert our Federal effort from computer production and computer maintenance. As the human brain takes over, more of our energy can be directed into peacetime pursuits and the impingement of war on the ordinary man will be less. This will be most advantageous for the party in power, of course."
"Ah," said the president, "I see your point. Well, sit down, Congressman, sit down. I want some time to think about this. – But meanwhile, show me that multiplication trick again. Let’s see if I can’t catch the point of it."