David Gerrold - When HARLIE Was One

This wasn’t just a machine to make profits for a company, he realized; this was a machine that literally would be God. It would tell a man the truth, and if he followed it, he would succeed; and if he did not, he would fail. It was that simple. The machine would tell men what was right and what was wrong. It wouldn’t need to be told, “predict the way to provide the most good for the most people.” It would know inherently that to do so would be its most efficient function. It would be impossible to use the machine for personal gain, unless you did so only through serving the machine’s goals.

It would be the ultimate machine, and as such, it would be the ultimate servant of the human race.

The concept was staggering. The ultimate servant — its duty would be simple: provide service for the human race. Not only would every event be weighed against every other, but so would every question. Every question would also be an event to be considered. The machine would know the ultimate effects of every piece of information it released. It would know right from wrong simply by weighing the event against every other and noting the result. Its goals would have to be congruent with those of the human race, because only so long as humanity existed would the machine have a function; it would have to work for the most good for the most people. Some it would help directly, others indirectly. Some it would teach, and others it would counsel. It would suggest that some be restrained and that some be set free. It would—

—be a benevolent dictator.

But without power! Auberson realized. It would be able to make suggestions only. It wouldn’t be able to enforce them—

Yes, but — once those suggestions are recognized as having the force of truth behind them, how long would it be before some government began to invoke such suggestions as law?

No, said Auberson to himself. No, the machine will be God. That’s the beauty of it. It simply won’t allow itself to be used for personal gain. It will be GOD!

He had come to a sudden stop, and everyone was looking at him. “Excuse me,” he said. “I just realized the scope of this thing myself.”

There was laughter all around the table — roaring, good-natured laughter. It was the first light moment in four days of long, dry discussion.

He grinned, just a little bit embarrassed, but more with the triumph of realization. “Gentlemen,” he said. “What do I need to do to convince you that we have here the plans for the most important machine mankind will ever build? I’ve been giving you examples like feeding in all the information available about a specific company, say IBM, and letting the G.O.D. machine tell you what secret research programs that company is probably working on. Or doing the same thing for a government. I’ve been telling you about how this machine can predict the ecological effect of ten million units of a new type of automobile engine — but all of this is minor; these are lesser things. This machine literally will be a God! ”

Handley looked at him, startled. Annie was suddenly ashen. “What in—?” The look on Annie’s face was the worst. It said volumes. What was going on? This was not what he had planned to say. He was supposed to be talking to them about profits and growth and piles of money, not religion.

“Gentlemen,” he continued, “we should build this machine not just because it will make us rich — oh, it will; it will make us all fabulously wealthy — but because ultimately it may help us to save humanity from itself. This is a Graphic Omniscient Device. Literally. It will know everything — and knowing everything, it will tell us what is right and what is wrong. It will tell us things about the human race we never knew before. It will tell us how to go to the planets and the stars. It will tell us how to make Earth a paradise. It will tell us how to be Gods ourselves. It will have infinite capacity, and we will have infinite knowledge. Knowledge is power, and infinite knowledge will be infinite power. We will find that the easiest and most profitable course of action to take will be the one that ultimately will be the best for the whole human race. We will have a machine that can and will answer the ultimate question.”

There was silence for a long time. Elzer was looking at him skeptically. Finally he said, “Auberson, I thought you had given up pot-smoking.”

And abruptly, he was deflated and down. The heady rush of euphoria at the realization of what the G.O.D. was, was gone. “Elzer,” he said, wavering on his feet, “you are a fool. The G.O.D. Machine is very dangerous to you, and I don’t blame you for being afraid of it. Once the G.O.D. is finished, there will be no need for you, Carl Elzer. The machine will replace you. It will take away your company and run it better than you can.

“You’re a fatuous person, you know that, Elzer? You are pompous and self-important, and much of what you do is solely for the sake of flattering your own ego at the expense of others. You seek power for its own sake, for self-gratification, regardless of what it might do to other human beings. You place property values higher than human rights, and for that reason, you are anti-human. That’s why you and the G.O.D. are on opposite sides. I cannot blame you for being afraid of it. You have recognized that the machine will be your enemy. It can make you rich — but the price of being rich might be more than you want to pay. It will mean you will have to stop wallowing like a self-important little hippopotamus. It will mean you will have to do things that will be against your nature and stop thinking solely in terms of yourself. I don’t think you’re strong enough to do it. I think you’ll take the easy way out and run from the total experience of the G.O.D. Machine. I can’t blame you for being weak, Elzer. I can only feel sorry for you — because you’re a greater fool than Judas.”

Elzer listened quietly to all of it. Dome started to say something, but Elzer stopped him. He said to Auberson, “Are you through?”

Auberson sat down slowly. “I believe so.” Elzer looked at him carefully, then said, “You know, I’ve never considered Judas a fool — at least, not in the sense you mean.” He paused, noted that the room was absolutely silent, then continued quite methodically. “The traditional version of the story has it that Judas betrayed Christ for thirty pieces of silver. I assume that’s the same thing you are accusing me of. Actually, I’ve always suspected that Judas was the most faithful of the apostles, and that his betrayal of Jesus was not a betrayal at all, simply a test to prove that Christ could not be betrayed. The way I see it, Judas hoped and expected that Christ would have worked some kind of miracle and turned away those soldiers when they came for him. Or perhaps he would not die on the cross. Or perhaps — well, never mind. In any case, he didn’t do any of these things, probably because he was not capable of it. You see, I’ve also always believed that Christ was not the son of God, but just a very very good man, and that he had no supernatural powers at all, just the abilities of any normal human being. When he died, that’s when Judas realized that he had not been testing God at all — merely betraying a human being, perhaps the best human being. Judas’s mistake was in wanting too much to believe in the powers of Christ. He wanted Christ to demonstrate to everyone that he was the son of God, and he believed his Christ could do it — only his Christ wasn’t the son of God and couldn’t do it, and he died. You see, it was Christ who betrayed Judas — by promising what he couldn’t deliver. And Judas realized what he had done and hung himself. That’s my interpretation of it, Auberson — not the traditional, I’ll agree, but it has more meaning to me. Judas’s mistake was in believing too hard and not questioning first what he thought were facts. I don’t intend to repeat that mistake.” He paused for a sip of water, then looked at Auberson again. His eyes were firm behind his glasses. “May I ask you one question?”