Harry Harrison - The Turing Option

“I know. I told it to shut down.”

The surgeon fought to keep her voice calm. “That’s hardly possible.”

“Why not? The CPU is on the chip implanted in my brain — and is interrelating with my brain. Is there any reason why there can’t be feedback?”

“None whatsoever — except to my knowledge it has never been done before!”

“There’s a first time for everything, Doc.”

“You must be right. It appears that while the computer was learning some of the connections in your brain, parts of your brain were learning some of the computer’s control signals.”

Snaresbrook was beginning to feel dizzy. She walked to the window then back, rubbing her hands together — then laughed. “Brian, do you realize what you are saying? That you have interfaced your thought processes directly with a machine. Without pressing buttons or giving voice commands or any other kind of physical action. It was not planned, it just happened. Before this all communication has been at the level of a motor action, from a nerve to a muscle. This is the first time that communication has been effected directly from the brain to a machine. Nothing of this kind has ever happened before. It’s… breathtaking. Opens up all sorts of incredible possibilities!”

Brian’s answer was a low snore. He had fallen asleep.

Erin Snaresbrook unplugged the neural link from the computer and coiled it under his pillow, not wanting to wake him by attempting to remove it now. Then she quietly shut down the machine, closed the curtain and left the room. Benicoff was waiting for her outside, radiating gloom. Erin raised her hand before the other man could speak.

“Before you deliver the bad news I prescribe a cup of coffee in my office. It has been a busy day for both of us.”

“It shows that much?”

“I’m a great diagnostician. Let’s go.”

The surgeon had a lot to think about as she led the way. Should she tell Benicoff about Brian’s newfound ability? Not yet, later perhaps. She must run some controls first to make sure that it had not been an accident, a coincidence. The possibilities it opened were so large as to be frightening. Tomorrow, she would think about it tomorrow. She sipped the coffee and smacked her lips, passed Benicoff his coffee — then dropped into a very welcome chair.

“Bad news time?” she asked.

“Not really bad news, Doctor, just pressure. General Schorcht is not going away that easily. He insists that every day Brian remains here in the hospital the security worsens. In a way he has a point. And it is sure wracking hell with normal day-to-day hospital management. I know — I get the complaints. The General has been on to the Pentagon, who has been on to the President — who has been on to me. Is it possible that Brian can be moved now that he is conscious and off all the life support equipment?”

“Yes, but—”

“It had better be a world-buster of a but.”

Erin Snaresbrook finished her coffee, then shook her head. “I’m afraid that it isn’t. As long as very prudent medical precautions are taken.”

“That’s why the long face. General Schorcht, a small army and a medevac copter are standing by right outside — at this very moment. If that’s your answer they are going to do it now. I’ll try a holding action, but only if you have some really strong medical reasons.”

“No. In fact, if he has to be moved eventually, it might be best to move him at the present time. Before I get too involved in the memory reconstruction. And I am sure that we will all be a bit more relaxed once security is tightened.”

Brian was quite excited when he heard what was going to happen.

“Wow — a copter ride! I’ve never been up in one before. Where are we going?”

“To the naval hospital on Coronado.”

“Why there?”

“I’ll tell you after we arrive.” Dr. Snaresbrook glanced at the nurses who were preparing Brian for the short trip. “In fact, I think I better answer a lot of your questions when we get there. I’m afraid we can’t keep this a private party much longer. Are we ready?”

“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said.

“All right. Inform Mr. Benicoff. You will find him waiting outside.”

The orderlies were navy medical corpsmen — and were backed up by a squad of heavily armed marines. The entire hospital floor had been cleared and there were more marines in front of and behind the party that surrounded the gurney. The first squad double-timed up the stairs to the roof when Brian was rolled into the elevator, were waiting there outside the door when it arrived. Nor were they alone. Sharpshooters looked down from the parapets, while at every corner of the roof there were soldiers with bulky surface-to-air missiles at the ready.

“You are right, Doctor, you do have a lot of explaining to do!” Brian called out above the roar of the copter’s blades.

During the short hop across the city and bay they were boxed in by attack choppers, while a flight of jets circled higher above. After landing on the helipad of the naval hospital the same procedure was done in reverse. When the last marine had stamped out, there were still three people left in the room.

“Will you wait outside, General,” Benicoff asked, “while I explain to Brian what this is all about?”

“Negative.”

“Thanks. Dr. Snaresbrook, will you please introduce me?”

“Brian, this is Mr. Benicoff. The military officer next to him is General Schorcht, who has some questions to ask you. I wouldn’t have him here now but I have been informed that this interview was expressly asked for by the President. Of the United States.”

“For real, Doctor?” They may have been twenty-four years old but the eyes had the wide-eyed stare of a fourteen-year-old. Erin Snaresbrook nodded.

“Mr. Benicoff is a presidential appointee as well. He is in charge of an ongoing investigation — well, he’ll explain that himself.”

“Hi, Brian. Feeling okay?”

“Great. That was quite a ride.”

“You have been seriously ill. If you want to postpone this…”

“No thanks. I’m a little tired, but other than that I feel fine now. And I really would like to know what happened to me, what is going on around here.”

“Well, you do know that you succeeded in developing an operating artificial intelligence?”

“The doctor told me that — I have no memory of it at all.”

“Yes, of course. Well then, without being too detailed, you were demonstrating the AI when the lab you were in was attacked. We have reason to believe that everyone there with you was killed, while you were badly wounded in the head. By a bullet. We assume that you were left for dead. All of your notes, records, equipment, everything to do with the AI was removed. You were taken to the hospital and operated on by Dr. Snaresbrook. You recovered consciousness in the hospital and of course everything that has happened since then you know about. But I must add that the thieves were never caught, the records never recovered.”

“Who did it?”

“I am afraid to say that we have absolutely no idea.”

“Then — why the military maneuvers?”

“There has already been one other attempt on your life, when you were in the hospital that you just left.”

Brian gaped around at their blank faces. “So what you are telling me is that the AI has been pinched. And whoever has it wants to keep it their secret. So much so that they are ready to bump me off to keep it a secret. Even though I don’t remember a thing about it.”

“That’s right.”

“This takes some getting used to.”

“For all of us.”

Brian looked over at the General. “How does the Army fit into this?”

“I will tell you.” General Schorcht stamped forward. Benicoff started to interfere, then hesitated. Best to get it over with. Snaresbrook was of the same mind and nodded agreement when she saw Benicoff draw back. The General raised his single hand and held out a recorder.