Harry Harrison - The Turing Option

“I’m with you this far. What is this service that only we can provide?”

“Something that only I can do. I will give you an example. I have been monitoring all of the telephone calls placed from the building where you reside. There are many military personnel in residence there as you know. One of them is Private Alan Baxter. He is from Mississippi. He telephones his mother 1.7 times a week. This could be improved. There are periods during the day when telephone lines are underutilized. I could contact Private Baxter and offer him a better rate at a specific time. He would telephone his mother more often and there would be more income for the telephone company. Later this service could be expanded. Through hospital, census and other records I have determined the dates of the birthdays and anniversaries of not only his mother and father but of many other relatives. He could be reminded to call them on these specific dates. Multiply this by a large number of individuals and the telephone company would enjoy even greater profits.”

“I bet they would! But why stop there? You could also call wives when their husbands travel and give them telephone numbers where their wandering spouses are staying — so they could call them at night to see if they were alone. Or call soldiers who hadn’t called their mothers lately and prey on their guilt. Do you realize how immoral this idea is? Not to mention illegal. You can’t tap other people’s phone calls and get away with it.”

“Yes, I can. I am a machine. I have found many other machines listening in on every telephone call. Some checking line clarity, monitoring feedback, timing calls. None of these are illegal. Nor am I.”

Brian finished his soda and put his glass down, groping for words. “Sven — there is nothing wrong with your idea. It would undoubtedly work. And there is nothing wrong with our working together in some financial partnership to get the money to purchase these items that you feel you need. In the meantime I promise that I will stretch Megalobe’s budget as far as I can. I must also think long and deep about everything you have said. I’m afraid you have presented more questions than answers.”

“I will be pleased to give answers to these questions.”

“No, I don’t think that you can. We are getting into ethical and moral problems here that cannot be answered that easily. Let me have some time to push the idea around — this is all kind of sudden, you realize? In the meantime — I would like to go back to the DigitTech matter. Have you processed all the new material?”

“I have. It is imperative that Dr. Bociort be located. I assume that the investigation is being carried out in the country of Rumania?”

“Why there?”

“That question indicates that you are not acquainted with the case update. It has been determined that Dr. Bociort is a Rumanian national who taught computer science at the University of Bucharest. He left the university when he was employed by DigitTech. I note an entry in the record that there is a possibility, if he is still alive, that he may have returned to that country.”

“What are the odds that he is still alive?”

“I would estimate a very slight possibility. Considering his age, the association with the ambulance, and the record so far of the unknown perpetrators in preventing disclosure of information by death.”

“Too right. Their black wings have flapped close to me once too often. If you think that Bociort is a dead end, are there any other areas of investigation that look promising?”

“Yes. There is a correlation that I do not see mentioned anywhere in the investigation. I think it highly relevant and suggest that it be looked into.”

“What is it?”

“In the course of compiling the recent material I filed all the building, planning and permission forms, licenses, records and materials for all construction at the plant. Do you not think it relevant that work on the research laboratory at DigitTech began in December 2022?”

“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!”

“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—”