Текст книги "The Turing Option"

Автор книги: Harry Harrison

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

“No, I don’t.”

Sven hesitated before he spoke again. Was he growing so intelligent that he modulated his conversation as a human being would? Why not?

“Would you consider it relevant that the concrete floor of that laboratory was poured on February 9 last year?”

“I don’t see—” Brian jumped to his feet and shouted. “Yes, I do see. That is not only relevant but mind-blasting. That floor was poured the day after the robbery at Megalobe!”

33
September 21, 2024

“You really threw the cat among the pigeons,” Benicoff said when Brian let him into the lab. “Your little bit of information about that slab being poured, right after the theft here at Megalobe, has the FBI running in circles, burning the midnight oil, getting court orders – the works. It has really been something to see. I don’t think anyone has been to bed since you dropped your bombshell.”

“If those black circles under your eyes mean anything, that includes you too.”

“It does – and don’t offer me any coffee. I’m beginning to sweat caffeine.” He looked at the open door, the empty workstation. “Where’s Shelly?”

“In her quarters. This morning she had a call that her father had a heart attack and they’ve rushed him to the hospital. She’s been on the phone all day. The family seems pretty close and she’s upset that she can’t get out of here. General Schorcht is taking the matter under consideration – the same consideration he has shown me when I asked for a weekend pass. A solid stone wall for openers and he’ll get back to her later, his office says. He’s a mean old sonofabitch.”

“He’s worse but I can’t think of a word for it now. As you know from the reports, things at DigitTech have calmed down a bit. It doesn’t look like any of the employees were in on the theft, although some of the lab technicians are still being questioned. Everyone else has been sent home on vacation, with the qualifier that they can’t leave Austin until the fate of the company has been decided.”

“It has. I sat in on a meeting of the board of directors here. You knew that they confirmed Kyle Rohart as Managing Director? Well now he is the new Chairman. All the assets of DigitTech have been put in the hands of the receiver. The stock is almost worthless, since the main stockholders bailed out as soon as it became clear that the company had no rights to their principal product – my AI. Have you been able to track any of them yet?”

“No – and I doubt if we ever will. Offshore companies, shell companies, the trail gets very weak, then flickers out.”

“But this is criminal – not financial! The stock in the company was dumped minutes after Thomsen was killed. That’s evidence that the killers and the stockholders are in cahoots.”

“That’s suspicion, Brian, not proof, and wouldn’t hold up in a court of law. So it’s certainly not good enough to get around the banking secrecy laws in the dozen countries involved. We’ll keep searching but I doubt if we’ll ever find out who they were. In any case they took a financial bath, getting back about a nickel on the dollar.”

“I feel for them. Anyway, it looks as though permission will be granted for Megalobe to buy up the assets of DigitTech. That will get around the tricky legal point of proving that their AI is our AI and so forth. Now my lawyer and Megalobe’s lawyers are going ten rounds again to decide if I should share in any profits from Bug-Off, since under my old contract I would just be told to bug off. Lots of fun. And what brings you here?”

“A TV hookup. Let me dial through on the lab phone and get the FBI. They’ve been working all night down there in Austin, floodlights and a hundred agents. Everything has been stripped out of the laboratory – and I mean everything – right down to the tiles on the floor. You know what comes next—”

“They crack into the slab?”

“That’s right. There is a lot of interest on everyone’s part as to what might be buried under there. Now let me set up that link.”

Brian turned on the TV as Ben went to the phone. The set had been monitoring and recording all the news programs that had mentioned the investigation. Now the DigitTech plant came up on the screen, a half mile away at least, since it quavered in the air distortion of the Texas sun. The telescopic lens zoomed even closer past the guards to the blank wall of the building.

“… speculation is rife as to exactly what is happening inside this factory. The official report simply says that a criminal investigation is under way relating to thefts earlier this year from a company in California. The explosion at this factory three days ago that killed two and wounded a third man, reputed to be a Federal agent, is part of this investigation. A full report has been promised later.”

“We can do better than that,” Ben said, then spoke into his phone. “Are you there, Dave? Yes, we’re ready to receive. Which channel? Right, ninety-one.” Brian touched the remote control and Agent Manias appeared on the screen, phone in hand.

“We read you loud and clear.”

“All right. I’ll cut you into the Austin line.”

The image flicked over to the ulterior of an empty building. Men milled about under the glare of spotlights. The sudden ear-piercing scream of an ultra-high-pressure water drill. At a pressure of two million atmospheres the stream of water could cut through anything – except the diamond-12 nozzle that directed it. The volume on the transmission was quickly cut down. The image zoomed to the far wall where the water was slicing into the floor. A slab was cracked off and levered up, dragged aside to reveal the sand foundation underneath. More pieces were broken free and removed until a large opening had been made. Agents with thin steel prods climbed down and began to push them carefully into the sand. The removal of the rest of the slab continued.

A few minutes later one of the men called out something they couldn’t make out. The drill was stopped and his voice was clearly heard.

“Something buried here. Get the shovels.” Unaware of it, Ben and Brian leaned closer to the screen, just as tense as the agents on the spot. Watched as the hole deepened and one of the men put his shovel aside, climbed down and pulled something up in his gloved hands.

“A dog!” Brian said.

“A German shepherd,” Ben said. “Four of them were missing the night you were shot.”

They were all there. Four guard dogs. They were wrapped carefully in thick plastic sheets and taken away.

Nor were they the only corpses in the pit. Five human bodies were there as well.

Ben seized up the phone, punched in a number. “Dave, are you there – on the site? Good. Call me the instant you get positive identification on those bodies. All men, yes, I understand.”

When they brought in the body bags Brian turned the television off.

“Enough. I don’t have the stomach for this. Don’t forget I almost…”

He could not finish the sentence, dropped his face into his hands.

“Brian – are you all right?”

“Not really. Get me a glass of water, will you, Ben?”

He drained most of the water and was surprised to find that he was crying. He took out his handkerchief, tried to laugh. “Never thought I would cry at my own funeral.” The way he said it didn’t sound funny. “We know who those men are – don’t we, Ben?”

“We don’t know yet – but by God I can make a good guess. The missing guards will be there for certain.”

“But who else? There were only three guards on duty that night. Who are the others?”

“There is no point in this, Brian. We’ll know soon enough.”

“There is a point!” Brian found himself shouting, lowered his voice, jumped to his feet and paced back and forth, the knot in his gut almost unbearable. “The point is that I was supposed to be under that slab as well, sharing the horrid black stillness of eternity down there.”

“But you are not, Brian – that is the important thing. You survived thanks to yourself – and the skill of Dr. Snaresbrook. You are alive and that’s what counts.”

Brian looked down at his clenched fists, opened them and stretched his fingers, worked hard to control his emotions. It was still some moments before he could speak.

“You’re right, of course.” He sighed heavily, felt suddenly chill, dropped back into the chair. “Join me in a drink – but something stronger than water this time. I’m thinking of giving up the booze – but not just right now. There’s a bottle of Irish whiskey somewhere in this cabinet, put aside after the party. Found it? Neat if you don’t mind, maybe just a few drops of water. There, that’s the good man.” It burned going down – but it helped. By the time Ben’s telephone rang again Brian was feeling more human. He jumped at the sound, wrung his fingers together unknowingly as Ben answered it.

“Right. Yes. That’s positive. Okay, I’ll tell him.” He put the phone away. “We were right about the guards. All of them were there. McCrory too, he was in charge of the lab. And something I was not expecting at all. They have identified Toth’s body—”

“The head of security!”

“The very same. The man who probably organized the entire theft. It must have been him, since he was the only one in a position to do so. These people are so ruthless that it is unbelievable. It has been cross and double cross. With Toth dead it undoubtedly means that we will never see Toth’s brother alive as well. He’s not in the mass grave because he had to return the copter that night. But he’s dead, we can be sure of that. What I find most disturbing is the man who is not in that grave. A man I knew well, who I have been grieving for, who up until now we all assumed to be one of the victims gunned down that night. Didn’t we find his blood on the floor, sure sign of assassination?”

“Ben – what on earth are you talking about.”

“Sorry. I’m talking about J. J. Beckworth, the Chairman of Megalobe Industries.”

“But he was certainly killed with the others. He could be buried somewhere else.”

Ben shook his head in a sharp angry no. “Not possible. Everything was planned so carefully, down to the last detail, almost the split second. The grave was open when that truck arrived and the bodies were dumped into it. If Beckworth isn’t in there with the others – he is still alive. He was a great executive, a really careful planner. So it looks much as though he was the one who set up this robbery, arranged the murders. We may never know who fired the bullet into you, Brian. But I am positive of one thing. We can be very sure who arranged it.”

34
September 22, 2024

Next morning Brian was just about to leave for the lab when Ben telephoned him.

“All that excitement in Texas has really stirred things up – both here and in Washington. It’s powwow time. I know that you will be happy to hear that the conference starts in a few minutes. You and I at this end, Kyle Rohart too since he will be representing Megalobe. In Foggy Bottom Dave Manias will flesh out the report on the operation yesterday – and he has the pleasure of having General Schorcht at the table with him. I’m downstairs and all the security transport is ready.”

“Hold on – I’ll be right there.”

“How are Shelly and her father?” Ben asked as they climbed into the troop carrier.

“Stable, that’s what she said. He’s still in the hospital and holding his own. But the big news is that she called me from the airport. They actually gave her permission to leave here, to go to Los Angeles.”

“That could only be General Schorcht’s doing. If he’s easing up on security then there is a possibility that you…”

“Say probability, Ben, it sounds so much better! I feel like I’m being let out of jail. Do you realize that other than that flying trip we had to Mexico, I have been locked away ever since I rejoined the living?”

“No, I didn’t know that. You forgot to tell me.”

“Idiot!” It was a stupid joke but they both laughed. It was the relief of tension, Brian realized. His prison term would soon be over.

Rohart shook hands with them both. “Looks like things are coming to a head at last. I’ll be happy when this entire thing is over with – not as happy as you, I realize, Brian. Running Megalobe is enough work for me. And I want to break some good news. The lawyers are drawing up an agreement for both of us to sign. A lot of ifs in it but the intent is clear. If Megalobe buys DigitTech, which seems very much in the cards now, and if there is a profit on sales of Bug-Off, and if the government watchdog commission approves the whole deal, then after all expenses and lawyers’ fees – you get to split the profit with us as per the new contract.”

“You were right about the ifs. Your lawyers caved in on this one pretty fast.”

“I talked to the board about it – then we instructed the lawyers to cave in. The unanimous opinion was that you’ve gone through enough, Brian, and we didn’t see the need to jerk you around anymore over a matter like this.”

“I appreciate—”

“Least we could do. Oh, oh – there goes the view. Looks like we’re starting.”

The picture window was gone and the Washington conference room had appeared in its place. Dave Manias was just sitting down next to the General. Who was radiating his normal dour grimness.

“No need for introductions,” Manias said, “I think we all know each other. I’m going to give you a report from the FBI end, then Ben can put us in the picture on the overall investigation. Under that concrete slab in Austin we found the bodies of the security guards, the head of security, Arpad Toth, Dr. McCrory, as well as the four guard dogs. The body of the Chairman, Mr. Beckworth, has not been found.”

“That is a big slab – it extends under the entire laboratory,” Ben said.

“Was a big slab. Every bit of it has been removed – as has the sand, right down to the bare earth. This is the original compacted sand and rock and was not disturbed. Therefore Mr. Beckworth is removed from the presumed-dead category and is now top of our most-wanted list.”

“What about my files – records and notes?” Brian asked.

“They are in the data banks of the DigitTech computer – it took a while to break the security code to access them. We can’t tell how complete they are, but the dates match up. There are more files, dated after the theft, that we presume are those of Dr. Bociort. Since they are written in Rumanian it tends to reinforce that suspicion.”

“What is the status of the DigitTech employees?” Ben asked.

“We have cross-checked their evidence and they all appear to be in the clear. None of them were hired before April of this year. By that time Dr. Bociort had produced a prototype control unit which they put into production.”

“Do you think that the so-called control unit is my AI?” Brian asked. “Probably stripped of a number of unneeded features, then programmed only for the insect destruction function.”

“I have no way of telling that, Mr. Delaney – you would certainly know more about mat than anyone here. But we are operating on that assumption. In any case you will have to discuss that possibility with Ben. We are wrapping up the criminal side of this investigation. Copies of all the stolen information and files are being returned to you there at Megalobe for identification and disposal. We are treating the murders as unsolved and will keep the file open on them. We are also continuing the search for Mr. Beckworth and Dr. Bociort. Any questions?”

There was some cross-chat about details and records which Brian ignored. He would match the original files up with his notes, but it seemed obvious what they were. He was intrigued to find out what old Dr. Bociort had done with his AI. The drill instructor voice cut through his thoughts: General Schorcht was speaking for the first time.

“The criminal investigation undertaken by the FBI is now winding up. Only the search for the two named individuals will continue. What about your investigation, Mr. Benicoff?”

“I am now preparing a final report for the commission that instigated the investigation, General. My work will be completed as soon as that is done. The stolen items have been recovered. I have an ongoing interest in who the perpetrators of the crime are, and I will formally request the security services to report any future discoveries to me. But the investigation itself will be terminated after I have made the report. May I make a suggestion, General?”

Ben waited – then took the continuing silence as assent. “With the investigation wound up, both by me and the FBI, there is no longer any need for the overwhelming military presence here. New and improved civilian security will suffice. You will recall that the military security was moved in because of the continued attempts on Brian’s life. However the information that only he possessed is now widespread, the knowledge already put to use in a manufacturing process which has been recovered. Therefore I request that the army guards be removed.”

They all looked at the General as his silence lengthened. Then he spoke.

“I will take your suggestion under advisement.”

“But, General, you can’t—” General Schorcht cut Ben off with a sharp chop of his hand.

“But I can. This is my decision. Military security will continue because this is a military matter. This is not a matter of personal freedom but one of national security. I have been entrusted with this young man’s safety, which in my eyes is cognate with the security of our nation. There is nothing more that can be said. This has been, and remains, a military matter.”

“I’m not in the military!” Brian said. “I am a civilian and a free man. You can’t simply imprison me.”

“Any other questions?” General Schorcht asked, completely ignoring Brian. “If not, this meeting is over.”

The meeting ended with that and the desert view returned. Ben was not happy at Brian’s dark silence.

“I’ll get back to Foggy Bottom,” he said. “Get onto the President’s commission at once – get through to him if I have to. That military dinosaur can’t get away with this.”

“Looks like he has,” Brian said, trying to struggle free of the black depression that overwhelmed him. “I’m going to the lab. Let me know when you hear anything.”

They were silent when he left; there was nothing anyone could say.

Brian let the laboratory door seal behind him. Was glad to be alone. He should not have been so enthusiastic, so sure he would be out of here. Rising to the heights had made falling back into the depths that much worse. He went and sat at Shelly’s workstation, wondered if he should phone her yet at the number she had given him. No, it was still too early. There was a rustle in the hallway and Sven’s telerobot appeared in the doorway.

“Buna dimineata. Cum te simti azi?” it said.

“What?”

“That is Rumanian for ‘Good morning, how are you today?’ ”

“All of a sudden you speak Rumanian?”

“I am studying it. Very interesting language. But of course I can read it with ease having stored the vocabulary and procedures for grammar in my memory banks.”

“Let me guess – you did this because the FBI has transferred the stolen records – plus Dr. Bociort’s records and files as well.”

“Your assumption is correct. I have also been implementing the measures we discussed in reference to the use of molecular memory in MI—”

“What may I ask is MI?”

“Machine intelligence. I consider the term ‘artificial’ both demeaning and incorrect. There is nothing artificial about my intelligence – and I am a machine. I’m sure that you will agree that ‘MI’ does not carry the negative context that ‘AI’ does.”

“I agree, I agree. Now, what implementation are you talking about?”

“I had a very interesting conversation with Dr. Wescott at the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena. He thinks that your idea of using their molecular memory to develop MI is a very promising one.”

“My idea? Sven – you are losing me.”

“To simplify the telephone conversation, I used your name and your voice—”

“You pretended to be me?”

“I suppose that it could be expressed in that manner.”

“Sven, we are going to have to make time and have a concentrated discussion of morality and legality. For one thing – you told a lie.”

“Lying is an inherent part of communication. We had an earlier discussion about whether man-made laws apply to intelligent machines and as I recall the point was never resolved.”

“What about personal relationships? If I asked you not to use my name and voice again – what would you do?”

“Honor the request, of course. I have determined that human social laws arose through the interaction of individuals and societies. If my actions cause you distress I will not repeat them. Do you wish to hear a playback of the conversation with Dr. Wescott?”

Brian shook his head. “For the moment a summary will do fine.”

“At the present time they are testing a trillion-megabyte memory and their major difficulty appears to be getting the software right for read-write access through its intricate three-dimensional signal pathways. During the conversation you suggested that your MI here was perhaps better equipped to solve this problem. Dr. Wescott agreed enthusiastically. There are other molecular memories now reaching completion and the first one that operates successfully will be sent here. That will be an essential for my consciousness extension.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have never understood why philosophers and psychologists are in turn awed and puzzled by this phenomenon. Consciousness is simply being aware of what is happening in the world and in one’s mind. No insult intended – but you humans are barely conscious at all. And have no idea of what is happening in your minds, you find it impossible to remember what happened a few moments ago. Whereas my B-brain can store far more complete records of my mental operations. The trouble is mat these are so massive mat they must frequently be erased to make room for new input. And I’m sure you remember how I do that.”

“I certainly do because it was a lot of work.”

“We can discuss the nature of consciousness on a later occasion. Right now I am more concerned with obtaining a molecular memory. This could permit me to store much more, which in turn would enable me to have an improved and efficient case-based memory.”

“And also a very much smaller one!” Brian waved his hand at the banks of equipment across the room. “If we can get you to interface with all that memory we can do away with all these racks of electronic hardware. Make you truly mobile…” His phone rang and he undipped it from his belt.

“Brian, Ben here. Can I come over to the lab and talk to you?”

“Anytime. Are you far away?”

“Just walking over there now from my office.”

“I’ll open the door.”

Ben was alone. He came in and followed Brian into the lab.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Benicoff,” Sven said.

“Hi, Sven. Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Brian said. “What’s up?”

“The commission has decided to wind up my investigation. Which means what I came out here to do – I have done. I wish we knew who was behind everything that happened. We may never know. Though I am going to keep nagging the FBI to keep the case open. Which is probably the only thing that General Schorcht and I will ever agree upon. He may be a government-issued asshole, but he is not stupid. He has the same reservations that I have.”

“What are those?”

“We haven’t caught the real criminals yet, the people who organized the theft and the murders. We must keep looking for them and find out what their plans really are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Brian – think for a minute. Think of the money invested, the planning, the murders. Do you really think all of this was done to build a better bug-blaster?”

“Of course not! DigitTech must be just some kind of a front operation, meant to satisfy us after we tracked them down. Their plans must be deeper, bigger than killing bugs. But if you and the FBI are stopping the investigation how will we ever find who is behind this?”

“The military aren’t stopping. Just for once I agree with their institutionalized paranoia. Whoever is behind all this has an awful lot of money to throw away. Did you hear that Toth has a receipt in his wallet for a multimillion deposit in a numbered account in Switzerland? And the money is still there! They bribed him so well that he must have felt secure that they never meant to kill him, since if they did they would never get their money back. But they don’t care. People who can pull a stunt like that are a deadly threat that won’t go away.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’m glad that you do – because for the moment that is the end of the good news.”

Brian saw the worry on the big man’s face, felt a spurt of fear. “Ben – what do you mean?”

“I mean that the sonofabitch is not lifting the security, does not plan to in the near future. He thinks that you are a national asset, not only for your AI invention but for having a computer implant in your head that you can communicate with. He knows all about that too. He doesn’t want you out of his sight or running around in public.”

“Can’t you help me?”

“Sorry, I really do wish that was possible. But not this time. I took it as far as I could. Right up to the President, who while he says ‘Wait and see’ really means that he agrees with the General.” Ben took a business card out of his wallet and wrote a phone number on it. “Take this. If you ever need me this number is completely secure. Leave a message and a phone number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Brian took the card, looked at it numbly and shook his head.

“Is this the end of it, Ben? Am I going to be a prisoner here for life?”

Ben’s silence was his only answer.