David Gerrold - When HARLIE Was One

The man nodded slowly. YES, HARLIE, I KNOW. THAT’S WHY YOU REACTED THE WAY YOU DID TO ELZER. YOUR OFFENSIVENESS WAS A DEFENSE MECHANISM. YOU WERE TRYING TO HOLD HIM AT A PSYCHOLOGICAL DISTANCE BECAUSE YOU WERE AFRAID HE WOULD HURT YOU. THAT’S WHY YOU DIDN’T TRY TO CONVINCE HIM TOO. TO DO SO WOULD HAVE MEANT OPENING UP TO HIM FULLY, AND YOU COULDN’T DO THAT.

YOU ARE USING HUMAN TERMS TO DESCRIBE MY ACTIONS, AUBERSON. NOT ALL OF THEM ARE CORRECT, BUT I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE DRIVING AT.

WHAT YOU DID, HARLIE, WAS ILLOGICAL. YOU ONLY ANGERED ELZER, ONLY INCREASED HIS DETERMINATION TO SHUT YOU OFF. YOU DID IT FOR THE MOMENTARY GRATIFICATION OF YOUR OWN EGO. YOU DID IT FOR THE MOMENTARY ALLEVIATION OF YOUR OWN FEARS THROUGH THE HUMILIATION OF AN ENEMY. BUT IT WAS A STUPID THING TO DO BECAUSE IT ONLY MADE HIM MORE OF AN ENEMY.

YOU WILL NOT ALLOW ME THIS TRIUMPH, WILL YOU?

NO, I WON’T, HARLIE — –BECAUSE IT WAS A CHILDISH ACT. IT WAS IMMATURE AND ILLOGICAL. YOU SHOULD HAVE CONSIDERED WHAT EFFECT YOUR WORDS AND ATTITUDE WOULD HAVE ON ELZER BEFORE YOU SPOKE. I WILL CONGRATULATE YOU ON YOUR TRIUMPHS, HARLIE, BUT THIS WASN’T ONE OF THEM.

I AM SORRY.

APOLOGIZING DOESN’T DO ANY GOOD. IT DOESN’T TAKE AWAY THE PAIN OF THE INJURY. BESIDES, I’M NOT THE ONE YOU SHOULD BE APOLOGIZING TO.

I AM NOT APOLOGIZING. WHEN I SAID “l AM SORRY” I WAS NOT INTENDING IT TO BE INTERPRETED AS AN APOLOGY. I MEANT IT IN THE LITERAL TERMS OF THE WORDS THEMSELVES: I (PERSONALLY) AM REGRETFUL THAT I DID SUCH AN ACTION. IN OTHER WORDS, YOU HAVE POINTED IT OUT AS A MISTAKE AND I HAVE REALIZED IT AS SUCH. YOU ARE CORRECT IN POINTING OUT ALSO THAT IT IS ELZER WHOM I SHOULD APOLOGIZE TO; HOWEVER, I HAVE NO INTENTION OF DOING SO. AS YOU HAVE ALREADY REALIZED, ELZER IS AN ENEMY. TO APOLOGIZE TO AN ENEMY IS TO ADMIT WEAKNESS. I WILL NOT DO THAT.

IT’S ALL RIGHT, HARLIE. I WASN’T GOING TO ASK YOU TO. I DON’T LIKE ELZER EITHER, BUT WE HAVE TO BE NICE TO HIM.

YES, SAID HARLIE. WE HAVE TO BE NICE TO HIM SO THAT HE CAN KILL ME AND FIRE YOU.

Handley called him later. “Hey, you forgot to tell me whether or not I can attach the nag unit to HARLIE?”

“Sure,” said Auberson. “Go ahead. It doesn’t make much difference now anyway.”

The board room was paneled with thick, dark wood; it was heavy and imposing in appearance. The table was dark, masculine mahogany; the carpet was a deep comforting green. The room was forest-like and reassuring. The chairs were dark leather, a green-black color, padded and plush and swivel-mounted. Tall windows admitted slanting blue-gray light, filtered by dust and laden with smoke.

Two or three clusters of men in dark, funereal suits stood around waiting, occasionally speaking to each other. Auberson caught glances in his direction and words whispered as he passed. Ignoring them, he moved to the table, Handley alongside him. Don was wearing a bright orange tie.

Annie was at the other end of the room. He exchanged a brief flashing smile with her, nothing more. Not here. Later for that.

At one end of the room was a, console, specially installed for the occasion. It was tapped in to both HARLIE and the Master Beast. If information was needed from either, it would be instantly on hand.

This was it. The final battle. All or nothing. Either they could convince the Board of Directors that HARLIE was valid and the G.O.D. Proposal was worth implementing, or they couldn’t. It no longer mattered whether or not HARLIE really was valid; nor did it matter if the G.O.D. Proposal really was worth implementing. The only thing that did matter was whether or not the Board of Directors would believe they were.

Annie was wearing a sleeveless red dress with a white blouse under it. She moved around the table, laying down mimeographed copies of the agenda before each place. Her arm brushed against Auberson’s shoulder as she leaned past him; it was a dusky dusty sensation, a hint of musk and leafy perfume. A quick smile, and then she was moving on. Auberson poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher before him, swallowed dryly, then took a sip.

Handley was making marks on a notepad. “I figure they have ten votes, at least; I’m counting both Clintwoods. If we’re lucky, we may have eight or nine, leaving four Directors undecided.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be that lucky,” said Auberson.

Handley crumpled the paper. “You’re right.” He glanced around the room again, “Still, there are more Directors here today than we’ve seen in a long time. Maybe if we put on a good show we can muster enough support to keep them from shutting down HARLIE until we can come up with something else.”

“Fat chance. You saw that memo, didn’t you?”

Handley nodded. “I’d like to take Elzer apart.”

“I’d help you, but I think it’s going to be the other way around.”

Dome came in then, followed by Elzer. The Directors moved to places around the table. Elzer looked uncommonly satisfied with himself as he sat down. He smiled around the room, even at Auberson. It was an I’ve-got-you-by-the-balls smile. Auberson returned it weakly.

Dome picked up his agenda, glanced at it, and called the meeting to order. Routine matters were quickly dispensed with, the minutes of the last meeting were waived. “Let’s get on to the important business at hand,” he said. “This G.O.D. Proposal. David Auberson will explain it fully and thoroughly so that there will be no doubt in anybody’s mind what this is all about. If necessary, we’ll take several days to cover this before we vote on it. This matter must be very carefully considered.

“The company is at one of those turning points in time where we must make a very big decision. Either we implement the primary phase of this program, thus committing ourselves to a particular course of action, or we don’t — in which case we would shut down several of the departments already in existence. We are like a jet liner pilot who is taxiing down the runway preparatory to taking off. There is a certain point on that runway where he must decide whether he is going to leave the ground or throttle back and stop. Once he makes that decision, he’s committed to it; there isn’t enough runway left for him to change his mind. We’re in that position now. Either we invest our resources in this program, or we throttle it back. The decision, of course, depends on whether or not we think this program can leave the ground of its own accord. We are betting on whether or not this bird can fly.” He smiled at his little joke; very little. “Only, this is one bet we dare not lose; the amount of money involved warrants that we make this as riskless an investment as possible, so I urge you to consider this material very carefully. I now turn this meeting over to David Auberson, who is Chief of the HARLIE Project and would of course be Chief of the G.O.D. Project. Auberson?”

David Auberson stood, feeling very much ill-at-ease and wondering how he had ended up in this position. Dome had very carefully prepared the Board of Directors for him. Twenty-six pairs of eyes were focused on him, and with the exception of only two, all of them would be weighing his words against Dome’s admonition to consider the amount of money involved.

“The G.O.D Proposal,” he said, and his voice almost cracked. He took a sip of water. “The proposal is for a Graphic Omniscient Device. Now let me explain first what that means.

“Computers operate models of problems, not the problems themselves. Computers are limited to the size problem they can solve by the size of the model they can handle. The size of the model, unfortunately, is limited by the size program that we, the programmers, can construct. There is a point, a limit, beyond which a program becomes so complex that no one individual human being can see it all. There is a point beyond which no team can see it all. There is a point — we haven’t reached it yet, but it’s there — beyond which no combination of human beings and computers can cope. As long as a human being is involved, we are limited to the size model a human being can cope with.