The broad porch had tables and deck chairs, but she wasn’t particularly interested in lingering. “If we could—I would like you to show me where my father died.”
“I’m not too sure about that. It’s a ways and some of the terrain’s pretty rough. If anything happened it’d be my neck in a noose.”
“If I am, as you say, the boss, even though it will take years to get it all settled through the courts, then you are my employee. You are without power to stop me from going, so are you going to come along to safeguard me or not?”
He sighed. “Well, if you put it that way, I guess so. But let me get a walkie-talkie from one of the security boys first so if we run into trouble or that fancy chair of yours runs out of juice I can call for help.”
She permitted him to do that, and they were off down the road and around the antenna array.
“Those things can communicate with just about every place in the world, yes?” she asked him wonderingly.
“Oh, yeah. Actually, they’re tied into NATO and a bunch of security telecommunications systems as well as our own home offices.”
“They are controlled by the big computer, then?”
“Everything is controlled by the big computer—the air conditioning, the lighting, the automatic doors, defense and security systems—you name it. This may look like a nice little resort on a charming tropical island, but it’s a high-tech nightmare in some ways.”
She nodded. “And—who controls the computer?”
“Theoretically the corporation telecommunications headquarters in Toronto, and that by the corporation’s top management in Seattle. They basically tell it what to do and make its priorities.”
“You said theoretically.”
He nodded, impressed with her line of questioning. If it hadn’t been a cruel joke he would have said she had a real head on her shoulders. “Yes, theoretically. The truth is much closer to home. You see, SAINT isn’t your ordinary run-of-the-mill computer. It might well be one of a kind, although it’s based partly on Japanese work and they have a similar government controlled operation. It isn’t just a collection of data bases and operating interfaces and the like; it actually makes decisions, evaluates information, essentially on its own.”
“You mean—it thinks?”
“It thinks. Oh, not like we think, and don’t get the idea that it’s some movie monster computer plotting to take over the world. It thinks about what it’s told to think about. It doesn’t have an original idea in its head. Human beings tell it what to think about and just how far it can go. Much of its circuitry has to be kept below freezing just to keep it from burning up its billions of parts with its own speed, and while it can talk it’s not self-aware like we are. The only man who can be said to understand and really run SAINT is a Brit with the incredible name of Sir Reginald Truscott-Smythe.”
She giggled. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m afraid I am. He looks the part, too, complete with moustache and summer whites and a dreadfully uppah clahss accent. He’s the highest paid repairman in the world and commands a crew of forty—second only to the security forces in staff number. He and two other men designed and built the creature. The other two are Japanese who worked long and hard on their project but just couldn’t resist the kind of money Magellan could offer for the job. They’re both back in good old Nippon now, but old Reggie, who worked in Japan and speaks, reads, and writes that and a lot of other languages, is still here, king of the hill. I’ll introduce you, when you want.” They came to the split-off trail. “Whoops! Here we are at the detour. Are you sure you can make it through there with this contraption?”
“I think so. This is a very remarkable vehicle—one of only two or three in the world like it. It is one of my dreams that we will eventually be able to mass produce it so cheaply that even national health insurance plans will be able to buy it for all who need it.”
Actually, the trail proved more than wide enough, and the suspension on the chair proved more than merely adequate so long as Angie was strapped in. He admired her confidence and control and couldn’t help saying so.
“Part of the key was that I was still young when the accident happened,” she told him seriously. “Another was the aid of what I now know was Magellan and Uncle—my father. What could I do? I could lie in some nursing home forever, or I could take advantage of everything that was offered and accept it, knowing what worked would eventually make its way down to everyone in need of it. I have much, and now I will have more. At the Center in Montreal they have voice-activated computers like the one in this chair. It is possible with robot arms to get my dinner and feed myself. I can pick up things and examine them. In special rooms with special equipment sensors can be attached to allow the computers to move my muscles, give me a minimal flexibility. God has been very good to me.”
“I don’t know if I could be in your place and say that.”
“But he has! He has put me here as an example to all those now wasting away or thinking of suicide or going mad in their self-pity! We only got out one step ahead of the newsmen as it was. Eventually I will leave this island and return, and I will be, like it or not, a public figure. I intend to be an example to everyone. I will be—Oh! It is so beautiful!”
They had come to the meadow with its strange altar stone.
“We believe it started here,” MacDonald told her grimly, breaking her mood. “We believe that your father was lured to this spot by some bait we don’t yet know, and waiting here was the mechanism to kill him.”
“But—he died on the beach! Is it not so?”
“He did, but it started here.”
“What was here?”
“I don’t know, and 1 don’t know if we’ll ever find it. Whatever it was, it was made to look as if it appeared at the altar stone—that big rock over there. He saw it, and ran down that trail over there. Even then, they took a big chance, or the … thing … or whoever did this, was overconfident, because he almost escaped. I’m sure they didn’t think he’d make the beach. The trail forks down there, one going to the beach, the other back to the road. If he’d taken the one to the road they would have had him, and it was the most logical route to take. The beach trail isn’t used much and it’s not in good condition. Whatever was chasing him had more of a problem with it than a man on foot. It slowed it down and also made it expose itself. It was blind chance that nobody was on that beach or in a boat out past the breakers. Would you like to see the beach?”
“Yes, I would.” A thought suddenly struck her. “Monsieur MacDonald—pardon, Greg—you are quite charming and very light and flip and irreverent, if that is the word for it. I think this masks a very serious man below your surface. You acquiesced far too easily to my foolish trip in the heat. You would not, by any chance, be attempting to discover if this chair of mine can make it to the beach?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Unmasked and exposed to the roaring mobs! “Yes, I will admit that the thought had crossed my mind. Don’t tell the others, though—they think I’m a half-witted has-been.”
She laughed, then grew suddenly serious, almost somber. “You think, then, that some sort of mechanical device was used? A robot or something?”
He was really impressed with her. “You are indeed your father’s daughter. You’re gonna do just fine, lady. The old boys who run the corporation think they’re gonna control and devour you, but I think they’ve got a real shock coming. Yes, I think it was done that way because it’s the only way it could be done, and you yourself just told me that the technology’s there.”