Zach Hughes - Closed System

A computer had no emotion. He had not askedfor a response and there was none. He was talkingto himself as much as to the old man.

"Do you have any record of someone other thanthe captain using your facilities?" he asked. It wasa stab in the dark. The computer was not pro­grammed to make such a distinction.

"There are no such records," the old man said.

He'd been hoping, since the old man was getting cranky and independent, that he'd taken it on him­self to make a note of the tampering.

"Is there recorded, anywhere in your memory, any information regarding an order to delete ma­terial from any portion of your memory?"

"Wait one," the computer said, and went to work.

Pat settled back. The Century Series was not thefastest computer ever built, but it was among the most

thorough, and had a storage capacity mea­sured in the billions. Even at subatomic speed it would take a while.

"There are no records of an order to delete ma­terial," the computer said, two cups of coffee later.

Outside, night came. Inside Pat had shed hisjacket, had eaten a sandwich, had enjoyed oneafter-dinner drink, had made a dozen trips to thesanitary closet to complete the flow of a half-dozencups of coffee through his system. He had the com­puter manual on his lap, and he was giving the oldman a real workout, coming at him from all an­gles, rephrasing questions, cross-checking by giv­ing the computer opposing orders, going back againand again to that time lapse between the first two blinks toward Zede

II.

It was a long night. The Skimmer was a living thing around him. The hatch was open so that thesecurity guard could look in on him now and then,obviously at Jeanny's orders, so the heaters cameon and hummed smoothly. There were clicks andhums, and once each hour the tiny ting of the chronometer and the chuckling and hissings of theold man as Pat exercised every part of his capac­ity, always coming back to the central question.

The chronometer tingled, and Pat glanced up. Three in the morning. He'd been at it since earlyafternoon. He felt as if he'd been run over by aherd of Tigian buffalo. His mouth was stale and brown from coffee, his head fuzzy, aching.

He went at the old man once again, head on, hisvoice a bit hoarse from talking. "The delete buttonwas used," he said. "It was used on the trip log and on the engine-room log. Material was erased. Iwant to know how much material, old man. Iwant to know who did it. I want to know how she bypassed the fail-safes." For now he had accepted the fact that only Corinne could have done it, andthat she'd done it during those seven and a halfdays while he was delirious with fever.

"There are no records of such actions," the oldman said, not at all perturbed. He could go onwith the game forever. He didn't get tired.

Pat took a break, walked to the hatch, and lookedoutside. The guard had been changed. The newman was young, and he looked miserable standingthere in the chill of early morning.

"Why don't you come into the lock?" Pat asked."We can button up and put some heat into it."

"Orders," the guard said. "But I appreciate thethought."

Pat went back inside, looked at the old man,winking and blinking peacefully, hated him for amoment or two, drew one more cup of coffee. Athought came to him, something he hadn't checked."Information on a fever known as mindheat fever,reference Taratwo."

The long session had accomplished one thing,however minor. The computer was no longer pre­tending to be hard of hearing.

"No information," the old man droned.

"Double-check."

"No information."

"Diseases indigenous to the planet Taratwo," heordered.

"The planet Taratwo is unique among known planets in that the evolution of viral and bacterialforms is still in a primitive stage. Ash and smokeare health hazards on the planet, and there havebeen recorded cases of disease carried to the planetfrom other areas of habitation. On the Standard Star Index of Public Health, Taratwo is listed asthe fourth most disease-free planet."

"General reference, health and disease. Checkfor mindheat fever."

That took a while. Finally, "There is no refer­ence to mindheat fever. The two words, mind andheat, are not referenced as a unit. However, on thestandard list of pharmaceuticals there is a syn­ thetic drug, dexiapherzede, developed on Wagner'sPlanet, Zede system, which in the illegal drug tradeis called heat."

"Depth search," Pat said, a feeling of revulsion in his stomach.

"Dexiapherzede was developed for use in treat­ment of depression. In regulated doses the effecton the patient is a feeling of well-being. In over­dose the effect is hallucinatory. Moderate overdoses release the unconscious mind into domin­ance, and the hallucinations can be somewhatguided by the conscious mind into paths of plea­sure or sensuous imagination. Heavier overdosesoverwhelm the conscious mind and hallucinations are not controllable. Very heavy overdoses irritatethe nerve tissue and are sometimes fatal, alwaysaccompanied by loss of consciousness and highfever."

Ah, Corinne.

"Time period of adverse effects of an extreme overdose?"

"Dexiapherzede is fragile, quickly assimilatedand rapidly metabolized by the human body. A nonfatal overdose produces hallucinations and fe­ver for approximately twelve hours, depending onthe individual rate of metabolism."

Seven and a half days. She'd have had to dosehim with that junk over a dozen times.

One more question. "Does dexiapherzede leaveany detectable residue in the human body?"

"Heavy overdose amounts of the drug do moder­ate damage to certain cells in the liver. The effectsof this damage are self-reparable by the liver over a period of some weeks."

So if she had drugged him it could be proved bya check of his liver. He paced the bridge. He could remember her face as if it were before him in oneof her pictures, and in that face he simply couldnot find the cruelty which would be necessary toput a man through the agony he'd experienced. Hecould still remember some of those nightmares.They'd been coming at him at night ever since his illness, and they were no child's nightmares. Theywere full-grown and damned mean nightmares thatmade him wake up in a cold sweat.

So, she'd drugged him. Why? Just to sit on theship for seven and a half days and play games with the computer? No. It was becoming moreand more evident that Corinne Tower had been amuch better actress than he'd suspected. She'dpretended ignorance of ship's operations, but she'dtaken the Skimmer somewhere while he was underthe influence of the drug, somewhere she didn't want him to know about. And she'd been goodenough at computers to get past several guards inthe trip log, and to erase the engine-room monitor­ing tape so smoothly that it wasn't noticeable un­less compared for time lapse with another tape.Sharp, but not sharp enough to erase the timelapse on the other monitoring tapes, such as

thenutrition servos. Sharp, but not sharp enough tosee that she'd left just a tiny little glitch on thetrip log, just enough to catch the attention of Cen­tral's computer.

"She drugged me, old man. She put me underfor over a week. What did she do for a week?"

He dived back into his work. For a week she'deaten—that was shown by the nutrition-servo tapes. She'd used the toilet; this was shown by thesanitary-system tapes. She'd even watched a coupleof movies. Calm as calm. Sitting there watchingpictures while he fought monsters and sweatedblood.

But, as dawn came, and the guard changed out­side, he was no closer to the answer. "Dammit,"he said, "what else did she do? Did she move theship?"

"There is no record on the trip log of the ship'shaving been moved," the computer said.

"Did she charge the generator?"

"There is no record on the engine-room log of the generator's being charged."