Robert Heinlein - Time Enough For Love

"Agreed on both points, sir; you had my promise. Now one, moment while I tell my computer-"

"She's already heard me. Hasn't she?" Lizarus added, "Doesn't she have a name? Haven't you given her one?"

"Oh, certainly. I could not deal with her all these years without animism, fallacy though it is-"

"Not a fallacy, Ira, machines are human because they are made in our image. They share both our virtues and our faults-magnified."

"I've never tried to rationalize it, Lazarus, but Minerva- that's her formal name; she's 'Little Nag' in private because one of her duties is to remind me of obligations I would rather forget. Minerva does feel human to me-she's closer to me than any of my wives have been. No, she has not registered your decision; she's simply placed it in her temporaries. Minerva!"

"Si, Ira."

"Speak English, please. Retrieve the Senior's decision to undergo full antigeria, file it in your permanents, transmit it to Archives and to the Howard Rejuvenation Clinic for action."

"Completed, Mr. Weatheral. Congratulations. And felicitations to you, Senior. 'May you live as long as you wish and love as long as you live.'"

Lazarus looked suddenly interested-which did not surprise me because Minerva surprises me quite frequently even after a century of being "married" to her in all but fact. "Why, thank you, Minerva. But you startled me, girl. Nobody talks about love anymore; that's a major thing wrong with this century. How did you happen to offer me that ancient sentiment?"

"It seemed appropriate, Senior. Was I mistaken?"

"Oh, not at all. And call me 'Lazarus.' But tell me, what do you know of love? What is love?"

"In Classic English, Lazarus, your second question can be answered in many ways; in Lingua Galacta it cannot be answered explicitly at all. Shall we discard all definitions in which the verb 'to like' is as appropriate as the verb 'to love'?"

"Eh? Certainly. We aren't talking about 'I love apple pie'- or even 'I love music.' Whatever it is we are talking about, it's 'love' the way you used it in the old-style well-wishing."

"Agreed, Lazarus. Then what remains must be divided into two categories, 'Eros' and 'Agape,' and each defined separately. I cannot know what 'Eros' is through direct knowledge, as I lack both body and biochemistry to experience it. I can offer nothing but intensional definitions in terms of other words, or extensional definitions expressed in incomplete statistics. But in both cases I would not be able to verify such definitions since I have no sex."

("The hell she doesn't," I muttered into my scarf. "She's as female as a cat in heat." But technically she was correct, and-I've often felt that it was a shame that Minerva could not experience the pleasures of sex, as she was much more fitted to appreciate them than some human females-all glands and no empathy But I had never said this to anyone. Animism-of a particularly futile sort. A wish to "marry" a machine. As ridiculous as a little boy who digs a hole in the garden, then bawls because he can't take it into the house. Lazarus was right; I am not smart enough to run a planet. But who is?)

Lazarus said with deep interest, "Let's table 'Eros' for a moment. Minerva, the way you phrased that seemed to include the presumption that you could experience 'Agape.' Or 'can.' Or 'have.' Or perhaps 'do.'"

"It is possible that I was presumptuous in my phrasing, Lazarus."

Lazarus snorted, then chopped it off and spoke in such a fashion as to cause me to think that the old man was not quite sane-save that I am not sane myself, when the wind sets from that quarter. Or perhaps his long years had made him almost telepathic-even with machines.

"Forgive me, Minerva," he said gently. "I was not laughing at you but at the play on words with which you answered me. I withdraw my question; it is never proper to quiz a lady about her love life-and while you may not be a woman, dear, you are certainly a lady."

Then he turned to me and what he said next confirmed that he had guessed the secret I share with my "Little Nag."

"Ira, does Minerva have Turing potential?"

"Eh? Certainly."

"Then I urge you to tell her to use it. If you leveled with me when you said that you intend to migrate, come what may. Have you thought it through?"

"'Thought it through'? My resolution is firm-I told you so."

"Not quite what I mean. I don't know who holds title to the hardware that expresses itself as 'Minerva.' The Trustees, I assume. But I suggest that you tell her to start duplicating her memories and logics, and as she twins, start storing her other self aboard my yacht 'Dora.' Minerva will know what circuits and materials she needs, and Dora will know what space is available. Plenty, since memories and logics are all that matter; Minerva won't twin her extensionals. But start it at once, Ira; you won't be happy without Minerva-not after being dependent on her for a century, more or less."

Nor did I think so. But I tried-feebly-to resist. "Lazarus, now that you have agreed to full rejuvenation, I won't be inheriting your yacht. Not in the foreseeable future. Whereas I intend to migrate right away. Not more than ten years from now."

"So what? If I'm dead, you inherit-and I haven't promised to keep my hands off that suicide switch more than a thousand days no matter how patient you are in visiting me. But if I'm alive, I promise you-and Minerva-a free ride to whatever planet you pick. In the meantime, look around to your left- our girl Ishtar is almost wetting her pants trying to get your attention. And I don't think she's wearing any."

I looked around. The Administrator for Rejuvenation had a paper which she seemed eager to show me. I accepted it in deference to her rank-although I had loft orders with my Executive Deputy that I must never be disturbed while with the Senior for any reason short of armed rebellion. I glanced at it, signed my chop, thumb printed it, and handed it back-she beamed.

"Just paper work," I told Lazarus. "Some clerk has taken all this time to turn your registered assent into a written order. Do you want them to go right ahead? Not this minute but tonight."

"Well...I'd like to go house hunting tomorrow, Ira."

"You're not comfortable here? Tell me what you want changed, it will be done at once."

He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with this place except that it's too much like a hospital. Or a jail. Ira, I'm durn well certain they've done more to me than shoot me full of new blood; I'm well enough to be an outpatient-live elsewhere and come here only as the schedule calls for it."

"Well...will you excuse me while I talk Galacta a bit? I want to discuss the practical aspects with your technician in charge."

"Will you excuse me, Ira, if I point out that you've left a lady waiting? That discussion can wait. But Minerva knows that I suggested that you have her twin herself so that she can migrate with you-but you haven't said Yes, No, or make me a better offer. If you're not going to have her do it, it's time you told her to wipe her memory of that part of our conversation. Before she blows a circuit."

"Oh. Lazarus, she doesn't think about anything she records in this suite unless she is specifically told to."

"Want to bet? No doubt most subjects she just records-but this one she just has to think about; she can't help herself. Don't you know anything about girls?"

I admitted that I did not. "But I know what instructions I gave her about keeping records on the Senior."

"Let's check. Minerva-"

"Yes, Lazarus?"

"A few moments ago I asked Ira about your Turing potential. Have you thought about the conversation that followed?"

I swear that she hesitated-which is ridiculous; a nanosecond is longer to her than a second is to me. Besides, she never hesitates. Never.

She answered, "My programming on the doctrine covered by the inquiry reads as follows: Quote do not analyze, collate, transmit, nor in anywise manipulate data stored under control program except when specific subprogramnung is inserted by Chairman Pro Tem-end of quote."