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There was nothing to say to that. They ate in silence for a while.

Abruptly, Auberson looked at her. “The annual report — how have they doctored it? What do they say about HARLIE?”

“Not much—”

“How’s he listed?”

“That’s just it — he isn’t. He should be considered part of the research budget, but he doesn’t show up there. He doesn’t show up anywhere.”

Part of the research budget? He is the research budget. Two thirds of it anyway.”

“I know — but it isn’t listed that way. His cost has been — spread out — listed as ‘Inplant Improvements’ and things like that.”

“Now why the hell—?”

“I think it must be Carl Elzer again. If they say they’re spending that much on research, they’re going to have to show some results for it. And admitting HARLIE’s existence is the last thing they’d want to do — once they admit he exists, they can’t erase him as casually as they’d like. People will ask embarrassing questions.”

“They’re covering their tracks before they even make them,” said Auberson. “And that sounds like they’ve already made up their minds about HARLIE.” Remembering some of his earlier conversations with Dome, he added, “You’re probably right. That explains why they’re afraid of publicity — for either HARLIE or this kind of research. It would risk their precious profits. I thought it was merely his schematics they were protecting. It isn’t. It’s the whole HARLIE concept. Or maybe I shouldn’t say •protecting — afraid of might be better. Damn them anyway.”

“The best thing now would be for HARLIE to come up with some surefire method of making money.”

“That’s what we’re working on — only I hadn’t realized just how tight the pressure was getting. Thanks for clueing me in.”

“Don’t thank me — you’re the one who worked it out All I did was tell you about my problems with the annual report.”

“You haven’t even done that yet What is the problem? You said the wrong figures keep coming out?”

“No — it’s the right figures that do. We set up the final drafts of the report three weeks ago.”

“And all the figures were from the second set of books? The phony ones?”

She nodded. “But the report printed out with all its figures corrected — taken from the real books. At first we thought someone had changed it on the copy; you know, someone not in on the secret might have double-checked the figures and changed them — but it wasn’t that. Those reports had been fed into the typers exactly as we had composed them.”

Something went twang. “The typers?”

“Yes, we have a magtyper composer — it’s one of the new IBM photo-typing units. It was ordered especially for handling reports, brochures and pamphlets. It justifies lines automatically to any length you specify, even divides words when necessary. The only modification in it is that instead of using the IBM memory tank, we’ve hooked it into the master system. That way, we can use any typer in the plant for input and use the IBM full time for photo-typed output. You could write a letter in your office if you wanted to and get a perfectly justified printout — any typeface — off the composer unit. Camera-ready copy.”

“Um,” said Auberson. “I have a feeling that that’s what your problem is — the master system. The master beast,” he corrected.

“That’s what we thought. We’ve been checking the computer outlets for two weeks now, and we can’t find a thing. Yet, every time we set up a printout we get the same damn figures. We’ve tried correcting the original tape, feeding it in again, and I don’t know what-all. It’s not so much the report any more as finding out why it keeps coming out wrong — er, right. Well, you know what I mean — with the figures we don’t want the stockholders to see. Like one of the things is HARLIE. He’s listed right at the top of the research budget in the real version — quite prominently — and there’s even a paragraph explaining his goals and objectives. Nobody knows where that came from — I thought Elzer would have a fit when he saw it. If we had the new systems analysis network completed, it could tell us where the trouble is originating. But it’s nowhere near operational yet, at least not for the master beast. We could always send the report elsewhere to be printed, but that would be personally embarrassing to Dome — the master beast is his brainchild.”

“Mm,” said Auberson, and nothing more.

“Anyway,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been doing for three weeks — running like hell and getting nowhere.”

“Oh, they’ll probably find the trouble soon enough,” said Auberson. “It’ll turn out to be a crossed wire or something stupid like that.” He sucked in his cheeks and examined a fingernail.

“I hope so,” she said. “We’re going to try another run this afternoon, just as soon as they finish checking the memory tanks again. If that doesn’t work, Dome is prepared to reschematic the whole system.”

“Is it that serious?”

“It is to Dome.”

“What time are they going to do the run?”

“I hope by the time we get back.” She looked at her watch. Auberson looked at his.

“Wow — look at the time!” he said. “I’d forgotten it was getting so late. I have to get back right now — I’ll have phone calls stacked up from one end of the country to the other.”

She looked at her watch again, as if she hadn’t really noticed it the first time. “It’s not that late. We’ve got at least half an hour.”

“I know, but I don’t want to be late.” He stuffed a last few bites into his mouth and washed it down with coffee.

Annie was puzzled, but she hurried to finish her lunch too. He signaled the waitress.

On the drive back, she remarked, “I didn’t realize how busy you were, David — I’m sorry.”

There was something about the way she said it. Briefly he took his eyes off the road and glanced at her. “Huh?”

“Well, the way you cut lunch short. And you seem to be preoccupied with something. I didn’t mean to force myself on you—”

“Oh, no — that’s not it. I’m just thinking about my work, that’s all. You don’t know what I’ve spent the past two days doing, do you? Covering for HARLIE. I’ve been calling every department head in four different divisions — ours, Los Angeles, Houston and Denver — trying to convince each one that those specifications we sent them are only speculative, that the reason we sent them out was to get their opinion whether or not we should consider implementation.”

“I thought that was the reason they were sent out.”

“It is — but there was no cover letter or anything. The way the specs were delivered, a lot of them thought it was file copies of a project that was already approved and ready to be implemented. They didn’t know a thing about it, didn’t even know such a thing was. being worked on. They thought something had been railroaded through over their heads, and they were mad as hell at the implied loss of authority. I’ve spent two days just picking up the pieces, trying to convince some of these… these corporate politicians—” he spat the word in disgust “—that there was no insult intended at all, that what we’re after is their opinion on the matter. The trouble is, they’re all so prejudiced against it now because of the way it was delivered that it’s an uphill battle.”

“I’d heard something about it appearing suddenly on Monday morning.”

“That’s right. HARLIE jumped the gun and printed it out because he figured it was the only way he could get anyone to notice it. Otherwise, if he’d had to wait until I could convince someone to take a look, he figured he’d be waiting till the moon fell out of the sky.”