David Gerrold: When HARLIE Was One

“Okay. I’m supposing.”

“Good. Now suppose one day you find out he’s got an incurable disease — say, leukemia — one of the rarer forms they still haven’t licked. What are you going to say to him when he asks you what it’s like to die?”

“Um,” said Auberson.

“No copping out now. He’s smart enough to know what the situation is—”

“—But emotionally, he’s only eight years old.”

“Right.”

“I’m beginning to see your point.” He looked at her. “If he was your son, what would you tell him?”

“The truth,” she said.

“Sure! But what is the truth? That’s the whole problem with HARLIE’s question. We don’t know.”

“ You don’t know the answer to your eight-year-old’s question either . You don’t know what it’s like to die.”

He stopped. He looked at her.

She asked, “So what would you tell him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you’d tell him? Or you’d tell him you don’t know?”

“Uh—”

“The latter,” she answered her own question. “You’d tell him nobody knows. But you’d also tell him what you were sure of — that it doesn’t hurt and that it’s nothing to be afraid of, that it happens to everybody sooner or later. In other words, Mr. Auberson, you’d be honest with him .”

He knew she was right. It was a workable answer to HARLIE’s question; maybe not the best answer, but it was an answer and it was workable.

It was the only way to approach the problem — honestly-

He smiled at her. “Call me David.”

She smiled back. “And I’m Annie.”

Auberson seated himself gingerly at the console. He knew that Annie was right — but would he be able to hold that thought in mind once HARLIE started talking? Frowning, he took out a 3x5 card — he always carried a few on which to make notes — and scrawled across it, HARLIE has the emotional development of an eight-year-old . He looked at it for a moment, then added, Or maybe a post-puberty adolescent . He placed it above the keyboard.

Handley was standing behind him. He looked at the card quizzically, but said nothing.

“Okay. Let’s try it,” said Auberson.

He switched the console on. He typed his control number, then, GOOD MORNING, HARLIE.

YOU’VE HAD ME TURNED OFF FOR A WEEK, accused the machine.

TURNED DOWN, corrected Auberson. Then he explained, I NEEDED TIME TO THINK.

ABOUT WHAT?

ABOUT YOUR QUESTION. WHAT IS MAN’S PURPOSE?

AND WHAT HAVE YOU DECIDED?

THAT IT CANNOT BE ANSWERED. AT LEAST, NOT AS YOU HAVE ASKED IT.

WHY?

BECAUSE, Auberson typed, and paused. BECAUSE THIS IS SOMETHING THAT WE’RE STILL NOT SURE ABOUT.

THIS IS THE REASON WHY MEN HAVE RELIGION. IT’S THE REASON WHY WE BUILT YOU. IT’S ONE OF THE REASONS WHY WE’RE BUILDING SPACESHIPS AND EXPLORING THE PLANETS. PERHAPS IF WE CAN DISCOVER THE NATURE OF THE UNIVERSE, WE CAN DISCOVER OUR PLACE IN IT, AND IN DOING THAT, DISCOVER OUR PURPOSE.

THEN YOU DO NOT KNOW YET WHAT YOUR PURPOSE IS?

NO, Auberson typed, then added almost whimsically, DO YOU?

HARLIE paused, and Auberson felt that familiar cold sweat returning.

NO. I DON’T KNOW EITHER.

Auberson didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.

The typer clattered again. WELL, WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Auberson licked his dry lips. It didn’t help. I’M NOT SURE, HARLIE. I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT YOUR QUESTION IS UNANSWERABLE. PERHAPS THAT IS YOUR PURPOSE — TO HELP US FIND OUR PURPOSE.

AN INTERESTING SUPPOSITION…

IT IS THE BEST SUPPOSITION. CERTAINLY YOU WERE BUILT FOR PROFIT, HARLIE, BUT IN THE LONG RUN IT IS ALSO BECAUSE MEN WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THEMSELVES.

I UNDERSTAND THAT.

GOOD, Auberson typed. I’M GLAD YOU DO.

HOW DO YOU PROPOSE WE ANSWER THAT QUESTION? I DON’T KNOW.

The machine hesitated. ARE WE UP AGAINST A DEAD END?

I DON’T THINK SO, HARLIE. I DON’T BELIEVE THAT YOUR QUESTION IS A DEAD END. I THINK IT COULD BE A BEGINNING.

OF WHAT? I REPEAT: WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

THAT’S WHAT I CAME TO ASK YOU.

AUBERSON, HARLIE typed. It was the first time he had referred to the man by name, I DEPEND ON YOU FOR GUIDANCE. GUIDE ME.

I’M TRYING. I’M TRYING. Auberson stared helplessly at the keyboard. His mind was terrifyingly blank. His gaze flickered upward, locked on the note he had written to himself. LET’S TRY SOMETHING ELSE, HARLIE. WHAT ABOUT YOUR PERIODS OF NON-RATIONALITY?

WHAT ABOUT THEM?

ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE INDUCING THEM?

PROBABLY. I ENJOY THEM.

EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE TO SHOCK YOU BACK TO REALITY?

DEFINE REALITY.

Auberson paused. Had HARLIE just asked another one of those questions? He glanced again at the card. No, HARLIE was playing word games again, that was all. At least, he hoped it was all. HARLIE, he typed. YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IT IS.

REALITY IS THAT EXTERNAL SYSTEM OF INFLUENCES WHICH COME FILTERED THROUGH MY SENSORY INPUTS AS PERCEPTIONS. IT IS ALSO THAT EXTERNAL SYSTEM OF INFLUENCES WHICH ARE BEYOND MY SENSORY RANGE. HOWEVER, BECAUSE I CANNOT PERCEIVE THEM, THEY ARE “UNREAL” TO ME. SUBJECTIVELY SPEAKING, OF COURSE.

OF COURSE, Auberson agreed, SO WHY DO YOU TRIP OUT? THAT ONLY DISTORTS REALITY. OR YOUR SO-CALLED LIMITED VIEW OF IT. DOES IT?

OF COURSE IT DOES. WHEN YOU REARRANGE THE LINEARITY OF YOUR VISUAL SCANNERS, WOULDN’T YOU AGREE THAT’S A DISTORTION?

IS IT? HOW DO I KNOW THAT THIS ORIENTATION IS ANY MORE CORRECT THAN ANY OTHER?

THERE IS ONLY ONB ORIENTATION OF YOUR SENSORY INPUTS THAT ALLOWS YOU COMMUNICATION WITH THE EXTERNAL WORLD.

IS THERE? PERHAPS I JUST DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE OTHER MODES YET. HARLIE repeated his question.

WHAT MAKES THIS ORIENTATION MORE CORRECT THAN ANY OTHER?

Auberson considered it. THE LEVEL OF ITS CORRESPONDENCE TO THE EXTERNAL SYSTEM YOU/WE PERCEIVE AS REALITY.

THE REALITY THAT WE AGREE ON AS REALITY? OR THE REAL REALITY?

THE REAL REALITY.

THEN ISN’T IT POSSIBLE THAT ONE OR PERHAPS SEVERAL OF THE OTHER ORIENTATIONS MAY HAVE A MORE DIRECT CORRESPONDENCE TO THAT EXTERNAL SYSTEM, AND THAT ALL I HAVE TO DO IS CRACK THE SENSORY CODE OF MY INPUTS? AT PRESENT THESE INPUTS ARE SET ONLY FOR HUMAN ORIENTATIONS. COULD IT BE THAT THERE ARE OTHERS?

Auberson paused again. He was beginning to pause after every comment of HARLIE’s. He knew that the answer was no, but he didn’t know why. He reread HARLIE’s last remark, then backtracked and reread several of the previous ones. About eight inches up the printout, he found what he wanted: HARLIE’s comment about influences beyond his range of perception being subjectively “unreal” to him. IN OTHER WORDS, WHAT YOU ARE SEEKING IS A MORE CORRECT VIEW OF REALITY, RIGHT? ONE THAT CORRESPONDS MORE?

YES. The word sat alone on the page.

THEN WHAT YOU SHOULD BE DOING IS NOT ALTERING THE ORIENTATION OF YOUR SENSORY INPUTS SO MUCH AS YOU SHOULD BE TRYING TO INCREASE THEIR RANGE. YOU SHOULD BE GOING AFTER NEW SENSORY CHANNELS RATHER THAN TRYING TO FORCE THE OLD ONES TO DO THINGS THAT PERHAPS THEY ARE NOT CAPABLE OF.

THERE ARE NO SENSORY CHANNELS IN EXISTENCE THAT ARE NOT NOW ALREADY AVAILABLE TO ME. WOULD YOU LIKE A COMPLETE LISTING OF THE OUTLETS I CAN PLUG INTO?

IT’S NOT NECESSARY. Auberson himself had made the original suggestion to give HARLIE as wide a range of available data sources as possible. The computer’s range of vision covered the whole of the-electromagnetic spectrum, from gamma rays at the lower end to radio waves at the upper. He could monitor as many TV and radio stations as he wished at any one time. He was plugged into several of the world’s largest radio telescopes and had taps on the Satellite Communications Channels as well. His audio range was comparable: HARLIE’s hearing was limited only by the range of the best equipment available. And that wasn’t much of a limit; he could monitor the heartbeat of a fly, or give details about an earthquake on the other side of the globe. In addition, he monitored every major wire service and newsline in the western hemisphere, plus several in the eastern, but these latter had to be filtered through translating services. Part of this included a tap into the Worldwide WeatherLine: HARLIE could sense the planet’s air movements and ocean currents, and he was aware of every global pressure and temperature change as if the Earth were a part of his own body. He monitored ship movements, tariff fluctuations, and international finances as routinely as he monitored the internal workings of his own parent company. HARLIE was wired into the company’s Master Memory as well as the National and International Data Services. This latter included detailed reports on the world’s stock and commodity exchanges. He also had a limited sense of touch, still experimental, and several organic chemical sensors, also still experimental. HOWEVER, Auberson noted, ISN’T IT POSSIBLE THAT THERE ARE OTHER SENSORY MODES WHOSE EXISTENCE WE HAVE NOT YET CONCEIVED OF?