Cordwainer Smith - Norstrilia

“But you know I’m in danger.”

“I know it.”

“What did you say, a while back, about not being able to stop Old Hot and Simple without stopping everybody else too? Could you stop everybody else?”

“Permission requested to correct error. I could not stop everyone. If I tried to use violence, the war computers at Commonwealth Defense would destroy me before I even started programming my own actions.”

“You’re partly a war computer.”

“Admittedly,” said the unwearied, unhurried voice of the computer, “but the Commonwealth made me safe before they let your forefathers have me.”

“What can you do?”

“Rod McBan the hundred and fortieth told me to tell no one, ever.”

“I override. Overridden.”

“It’s not enough to do that. Your great grandfather has a warning to which you must listen.”

“Go ahead,” said Rod.

There was a silence, and Rod thought that the machine was searching through ancient archives for a drama cube. He stood on the peristyle of the Palace of the Governor of Night and tried to see the Norstrilian clouds crawling across the sky near overhead; it felt like that kind of night. But it was very dark away from the illuminated temple porch and he could see nothing.

“Do you still command?” asked the computer.

“I didn’t hear any warning,” said Rod.

“He spieked it from a memory cube.”

“Did you hier it?”

“I was not coded to it. It was human-to-human, McBan family only.”

“Then,” said Rod, “I override it.”

“Overridden,” said the computer.

“What can I do to stop everybody?”

“You can bankrupt Norstrilia temporarily, buy Old Earth itself, and then negotiate on human terms for anything you want.”

“Oh, lord!” said Rod, “you’ve gone logical again, computer! This is one of your as-if situations.”

The computer voice did not change its tone. It could not. The sequence of the words held a reproach, however. “This is not an imaginary situation. I am a war computer, and I was designed to include economic warfare. If you did exactly what I told you to do, you could take over all Old North Australia by legal means.”

“How long would we need? Two hundred years? Old Hot and Simple would have me in my grave by then.”

The computer could not laugh, but it could pause. It paused. “I have just checked the time on the New Melbourne Exchange. The ’Change signal says they will open in seventeen minutes. I will need four hours for your voice to say what it must. That means you will need four hours and seventeen minutes, give or take five minutes.”

“What makes you think you can do it?”

“I am a pure computer, obsolete model. All the others have animal brains built into them, to allow for error. I do not. Furthermore, your great 12-grand-father hooked me into the defense net.”

“Didn’t the Commonwealth cut you out?”

“I am the only computer which was built to tell lies, except to the families of MacArthur and McBan. I lied to the Commonwealth when they checked on what I was getting. I am obliged to tell the truth only to you and to your designated descendants.”

“I know that, but what does it have to do with it?”

“I predict my own space weather, ahead of the Commonwealth.” The accent was not in the pleasant, even-toned voice; Rod himself began to believe it.

“You’ve tried this out?”

“I have war-gamed it more than a hundred million times. I had nothing else to do while I waited for you.”

“You never failed?”

“I failed most of the time, when I first began. But I have not failed a war game from real data for the last thousand years.”

“What would happen if you failed now?”

“You would be disgraced and bankrupt. I would be sold and disassembled.”

“Is that all?” said Rod cheerfully.

“Yes,” said the computer.

“I could stop Old Hot and Simple if I owned Old Earth itself. Let’s go.”

“I do not go anywhere,” said the computer.

“I mean, let’s start.”

“You mean, to buy Earth, as we discussed?”

“What else?” yelled Rod. “What else have we been talking about?”

“You must have some soup, hot soup and a tranquilizer first. I cannot work at optimum if I have a human being who gets excited.”

“All right,” said Rod.

“You must authorize me to buy them.”

“I authorize you.”

“That will be three credits.”

“In the name of the seven healthy sheep, what does it matter? How much will Earth cost?”

“Seven thousand million million megacredits.”

“Deduct three for the soup and the pill then,” shouted Rod, “if it won’t spoil your calculations.”

“Deducted,” said the computer. The tray with the soup appeared, a white pill beside it.

“Now let’s buy Earth,” said Rod.

“Drink your soup and take your pill first,” said the computer.

Rod gulped down his soup, washing the pill down with it.

“Now, let’s go, cobber.”

“Repeat after me,” said the computer, “I herewith mortgage the whole body of the said sheep Sweet William for the sum of five hundred thousand credits to the New Melbourne Exchange on the open road…”

Rod repeated it.

And repeated it.

The hours became a nightmare of repetition.

The computer lowered his voice to a low murmur, almost a whisper. When Rod stumbled in the messages, the computer prompted him and corrected him.

Forward purchase… sell short… option to buy… preemptive margin… offer to sell… offer temporarily reserved… first collateral… second collateral… deposit to drawing account… convert to FOE credits… hold in SAD credits… twelve thousand tons of stroon… mortgage forward… promise to buy… promise to sell… hold… margin… collateral guaranteed by previous deposit… promise to pay against the pledged land… guarantor… McBan land… MacArthur land… this computer itself… conditional legality… buy… sell… guarantee… pledge… withold… offer confirmed… offer cancelled… four thousand million megacredits… rate accepted… rate refused… forward purchase… deposit against interest… collateral previously pledged… conditional appreciation . guarantee… accept title… refuse delivery . solar weather… buy… sell… pledge… withdraw from market… withdraw from sale… not available… no collections now… dependent on radiation… corner market… buy… buy… buy… buy… buy… firm title… reconfirm title… transactions completed… reopen… register… reregister… confirm at Earth central… message fees… fifteen thousand megacredits…

Rod’s voice became a whisper, but the computer was sure, the computer was untiring, the computer answered all questions from the outside.

Many times Rod and the computer both had to listen to telepathic warnings built into the markets communications net. The computer was cut out and Rod could not hier them. The warnings went unheard.

…buy… sell… hold… confirm… deposit… convert… guarantee… arbitrage… message… Commonwealth tax… commission… buy… sell… buy… buy… buy… buy… deposit title! deposit title! deposit title!

The process of buying Earth had begun.

By the time that the first pretty parts of silver grey dawn had begun, it was done. Rod was dizzy with fatigue and confusion.

“Go home and sleep,” said the computer. “When people find out what you have done with me, many of them will probably be excited and will wish to talk to you at great length. I suggest you say nothing.”

Drunk with fatigue, Rod stumbled across his own land back to his cabin.