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“And that’s one of my biggest gripes,” put in Dome. “That the JudgNaut Project was subverted into HARLIE — which can’t show a profit.”

“But he can — and will. For one thing, HARLIE is genuinely creative. He knows that this company wants to market a large-scale program-writing computer. HARLIE isn’t that computer, but he knows how to give himself that capability. And that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Auberson didn’t wait for Dome’s grudging assent He went right on. “HARLIE isn’t just satisfied with meeting the specifications of the original problem — he wants to surpass them. All you want is a device which can set up and solve models within a limited range. HARLIE wants a device which can set up and solve any size model.”

“And HARLIE’s going to program this machine, right?”

“Right.”

“How? You just finished telling me he wasn’t all that much better than a human programmer.”

“In grasp, no — but in speed and thoroughness, he can’t be matched. He has capabilities that a human doesn’t. For one thing, he’s faster. For another, he can write the program directly into the computer — and experience it as a part of himself as he writes it. He can’t make mistakes either. He’s limited to the size models that human programmers can construct for much the same reasons they are: His brain functions aren’t big enough to handle more; HARLIE’s ego functions supercede much of the circuitry that would have been used for forebrain functions in the JudgNaut. But in this respect, HARLIE’s got an advantage over human programmers — he can increase the size of his forebrain functions. Or he will be able to with the G.O.D. He’ll program it by making it a part of himself — by becoming one with it — and using its capabilities to handle its own programming. He’ll be monitoring and experiencing the program as he writes it directly into the G.O.D. As the model is manipulated, HARLIE will be able to adapt the program to cover any situation possible. Their combined capabilities will be much more than the sum of their separate parts.”

“So why not just build these functions into the G.O.D. in the first place?”

“If we didn’t have HARLIE, we’d have to — but if we didn’t have HARLIE, we wouldn’t have the G.O.D. either. The G.O.D. is intended to be almost entirely fore-brain functions. We’ve already got the massive ego function which will control it, so why build a new one?”

“Hmp — massive ego is right.”

Auberson ignored it. “Basically, this G.O.D. machine is the rest of HARLIE’s brain. It’s the thought centers that a consciousness such as HARLIE’s should have access to. Take another look at those printouts. You see a thing called Programming Implementation?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well, that’s HARLIE’s vanity again. He doesn’t want to call it what it really is, but it’s an additional lobe for his brain. He’ll need a monitor unit to control each specific section of the G.O.D. Because the G.O.D. will have no practical limit — it can grow as big as we let it — HARLIE’s grasp will have to be increased proportionally. That’s what that unit does. As each lobe of the G.O.D. is completed, an equivalent monitoring lobe goes into Programming Implementation. Not only that: Because HARLIE is an electronic entity, his thoughts are already in computer language — it will be a maximum efficiency interface between himself and the G.O.D. He need only think of a program and it’ll be fact. It’s the most efficient function HARLIE could have.”

“I see,” said Dome. “And he planned it that way himself, right?”

Auberson nodded. “But it’s a natural. Look, a computer is very much like a mystic oracle. You not only have to know what questions to ask, but how to phrase them — and the answers are not always what you expect, nor necessarily in terms you can understand. Who better to use as a translator than someone who’s half-oracle and half-human?”

Dome ignored the comment; instead he mused aloud, continuing a previous train of thought. “A neat trick that, a neat trick. We tell him he’s got to come up with some way to be profitable, and he tells us to build a new machine that only he can program. I have the feeling that he did it on purpose — that this may be the only context in which HARLIE would be valuable. And of course, once we establish HARLIE’s worth to the project, that leaves us with the question: Is the total concept profitable? And that brings us back to where we started: Is HARLIE profitable?”

Auberson decided to ignore the latter question. He said, “HARLIE thinks the total concept is profitable. It’s in the printouts.”

“Ah, yes — but HARLIE’s got a vested interest in the project.”

“Why not?” said Auberson. “It’s his project, not mine. He’s the one who’s presenting it to the Board for approval.”

“And it’s sure to be voted down.” The Chairman looked at the back of his hand. “I can’t see any way that this will be approved. I’m not even sure we should being it up.”

“It’s too late,” said Auberson. “You’re going to have to bring it up. And you’re going to have to give it a fair hearing. You told HARLIE to come up with a way to be profitable. Now you’ve got to give him his chance to be heard.”

“This is ridiculous,” grumbled the other. “He’s only a machine.”

“You want to go through that argument again?” asked Auberson.

“No,” Dome shuddered. He still remembered the last time. “All right, I’ll have the Board consider it, Aubie, but the whole situation is unreal — having a computer design another computer which will give it a job. You know what Elzer is going to say, don’t you? You’d just better be prepared for defeat, that’s all.”

“Just give us the chance,” said Auberson. “Well take it from there.”

Dome half-nodded, half-shrugged. “Better start preparing your arguments now — you’ve only got a couple weeks.”

“Two and a half,” corrected Aubie, “and that’s more than enough time. We’ve got HARLIE on our side.” He was already out of his chair. As he closed the door behind him, Dome was again paging through the printouts and shaking his head.

Back in his own office, Auberson stared into his desk drawer, his hand hovering over a decision. At last he decided on the pills; he’d sworn off the grass, and he was going to stick to that.

I should throw those Highmasters away, he thought They’re probably stale by now anyway. But no, pot doesn’t get stale, does it? He kept promising himself that he’d give the rest of the pack to Handley, but for some reason he kept forgetting to. Probably because, as long as they were in the drawer, they were insurance. In case he changed his mind.

He swallowed two of the pills without water and slid the drawer shut, then put his head in his hands and waited for them to take effect. He thought about going down to the cafeteria for lunch, but somehow he didn’t quite feel like it Abruptly he straightened and looked around.

At one corner of his desk was a console magtyper, an electronic input/output unit connected to the company’s Master Computer and Data Network — and all the outlets that entailed. It was a memo pipeline, a mail processor, a filing system, a data storage and retrieval bank — it was a total information-handling system. Anything typed into it could be printed out in any form the system was capable of: a memo, a letter, a file, a report. All information was instantly retrievable — that is, retrievable only to those who had access to it through knowledge of the proper code keys. One key was necessary for retrieval, another was needed for revising the material.

Any information held in “working” or temporary storage could be instantly updated, annotated, erased or rewritten. All data was held in temporary storage for ninety days, at the end of which time it was either passed into permanent storage or erased, depending on its original coding.