David Gerrold - When HARLIE Was One

For sure, he hadn’t convinced the Board of Directors.

It didn’t make any difference either way. He’d have to talk to HARLIE again, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He still didn’t have an answer for HARLIE’s question. What was the purpose of a human being anyway?

He wondered if there even was an answer to that.

If there was one, it wasn’t going to come easy. He found himself reaching for his Highmasters, then remembered his resolution. He took another sip of his coffee instead. Bitter, too bitter.

A gentle voice intruded on his thoughts. “Hi, can I join you?” It was Stimson, the Executive Secretary.

“Sure.” He started to rise, but she waved him back down. The company cafeteria was no place for chivalry.

“Rough one today, wasn’t it?” she said, unloading a garish-colored tray. A sandwich and a Coke. When he didn’t answer, she smiled at him. “Oh, come on, Auberson, relax. I was only making small talk.”

He looked at her. Then he looked again. Her eyes were the deep glowing green of a warm Caribbean sea. Her skin was the gentle pink of the shore. Her auburn hair was a cascade of sunshine and embers. And she was smiling…

He dropped his gaze; it was getting too intense. “I’d like to relax,” he said. “But I can’t. This thing is too important.” After a bit he added, “To me, anyway.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” He looked at her again.

She didn’t answer. She only returned his gaze. For the first time he noticed the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. How old was she anyway? He returned to the study of his coffee cup. “HARLIE is like a… a… I know it sounds hokey — but he’s like a child, a son.”

“I know. I’ve read the company doctor’s report on you.”

“Huh?” His head snapped up. “I didn’t know—”

“Of course not. Nobody ever knows when we do a psychiatric report on them. It’d be bad policy. Anyway, you don’t have to worry.”

“Oh?”

She shook her head. “Oh, it did mention your introvertedness — and let’s see, what else — there was something about your worrying too much because you take on too much responsibility and…” She surveyed him thoughtfully as if trying to remember what else.

“You shouldn’t be telling me all this, should you?”

“Does it make a difference?” Her smile was like sunlight on sand, warm and bright.

“No, I guess not. What else was in the report?”

“He said you were becoming overly involved with the HARLIE project, but that such a development was almost unavoidable. Whoever became HARLIE’s mentor would have found himself emotionally attached.”

“Mm,” Auberson grunted.

“So you think HARLIE will have an answer?”

He started to reply, then stopped. Instead, he said, “Is that why you sat down here? To pump me for information?”

She looked stung. “I’m sorry you think that. No, I sat down here because I thought you might want to talk — might want someone to talk to,” she corrected herself.

Auberson surveyed her thoughtfully. He’d never paid much attention to her in the past; their paths didn’t cross much. Why had she sat down by him? Idly he wondered if those rumors were true that she was man-hungry. She seemed so open and friendly — damnit, why was he always trying to analyze everything?

There was an innocence in her face that made her appear so young, but this close to her he wasn’t sure. Perhaps she was nearer his own age of thirty-eight than he had thought. He didn’t see anything in her eyes to make him doubt her — yet, why was she being so forward? Or maybe he didn’t want to see anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been under pressure. And when I’m pressured I get moody and irritable.”

“ “I know. That was in the report too.”

“Is there anything that wasn’t in the report?”

“Only whether you like your steak rare, medium or well done.”

“Rare,” he said. Then, “Hey, was that a dinner invitation?”

She laughed. Silver chimes tinkling in a blue-white breeze. “No, I’m sorry. It was just the first thing that popped into my head.”

“Oh, okay.” He grinned back at her.

“You aren’t going to answer me, are you?”

“Huh?” He let the grin fade. “About what?”

“About HARLIE.”

“What about him?”

“Do you think you can find out what Dome wants you to?”

“I don’t know.” Noting her look of puzzlement, he explained, “I still don’t know what to say to him.” He rummaged through his briefcase. “Here, read this.” He handed her HARLIE’s last printout.

When she had finished, she lowered it and looked at him thoughtfully. “That’s quite a question,” she said.

“Uh huh. I wish I knew how to answer it.”

Miss Stimson smiled at him. “My father’s a rabbi. He’s been one for twenty-seven years. And he’s still not sure of the answer.”

“Maybe that’s the answer.”

“What is?”

“That our purpose is to find out what our purpose is.”

“And what happens when we do?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll have completed our task.”

“And then we get reprogrammed?” she mused.

“Or dismantled. Maybe there’s a Cosmic Elzer just waiting for the opportunity.”

She giggled at that. “Then we’re in trouble already, Mr. Auberson.” The way she said his name was not the way of a secretary to a boss, but that of a woman to a man. “Because if that’s true, then your realization of what our purpose is completes the task of finding out. Maybe someone up there — or out there — is listening to us right now, trying to decide whether or not to dismantle us.”

He considered it. “Hm.”

“Whatever our purpose, we probably aren’t fulfilling it. We’re not functioning as we should.”

He shrugged at her. “How should we function?”

“Like human beings.” She said it righteously.

“Isn’t that what the human race is already doing? Functioning like human beings — squabbling with each other, killing each other, hating…?”

“That’s not human.”

“Oh, but it is. It’s very human.”

“Well, it’s not what human should be.”

“Now that’s a different story. You’re not talking about what people are, but what you want them to be.”

“Well, maybe we should be what we aren’t because what we are now isn’t good enough. Maybe we should be dismantled.”

“I don’t think we have to worry too much about somebody up there doing it — we’re doing it ourselves.”

“That’s the best reason of all why we should be better than we are.”

“Okay,” he said. “I agree with you. Now, how do we do it? How do we make people better?”

She didn’t answer. After a moment she broke into a smile too. “That’s the same kind of question HARLIE asked. It can’t be answered.”

“No,” he corrected. “It can’t be answered easily .”

She sipped thoughtfully at the rest of her Coke until the straw made a noise at the bottom of the glass. “Mm, how are you going to answer it — HARLIE’s question, I mean.”

Auberson shook his head. “Haven’t got the slightest.”

“Can I offer a suggestion?”

“Why not? Everybody else has.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“No, I’m sorry. Go ahead. Maybe you can add something new.”

“You’re that desperate?”

He half-grinned, but it wasn’t a joke. “I’m that desperate.”

“Well, okay. You said that HARLIE was a child, didn’t you? Why not treat him as such?”

“Huh? I follow you and I don’t follow you.”

“It’s not only the problem,” she said. “It’s also the answer. Look — suppose you had a son about eight years old and, uh, suppose he was advanced for his age. I mean, suppose he was doing twelfth-grade work and so on.”