Farther forward in the interior of the vehicle, Pren and Boddy are at their weapon stations. And lights are flashing on the main instrument panel. There is also a low, pulsing sound. This comes from a speaker at one side of the instrument board.
Both Pren and Boddy turn from their weapons, face forward, and appear to be looking at the panel. Boddy says, “Hey, Pren, that’s an exciter signal. I’d better call Glay.”
He goes over to the panel, and picks up a receiver-sender device: “Glay, come in, please.”
Pause. No answer. After 11 seconds, Pren says, “He must still be outside with the crowd. So it’s up to us. Notice those lights! That signal is coming from about one-third mile away. From downtown Mardley. And it’s the kind of hypnotic that, according to Glay, has been given limited testing with the intent to control people’s minds. I wonder what they hope to put over in Mardley.”
Boddy says, “We’d better get over there, and take a look.”
He puts his mouth to a muffle-microphone. Normally, this Would mean that he is intending to speak to someone, or does indeed speak immediately. But of course no sound is audible. Eight seconds go by. And then I take note of several motion Indicators. The Eye-O on Meerla’s neck bobs back and forth. There is the subdued sound of an unmonitored motor. (Unmonitored by me.)
Simultaneously, on the viewplate up front, the scenery and other outside objects are moving toward us. I have glimpses of parts of tents, a scatter of people, brush and grass, a few trees, and then a road. Equally simultaneously, from nine of the Eye-Os of four S.A.V.E.s I see the large Pren-Boddy van pick up speed and start up the road in the direction of Mardley.
Also simultaneously, I am inside the S.A.V.E., which is putting forth the pulsing pattern that, according to tests I first j did for Colonel Endodore, can be used to hypnotize human. beings. The physiologic effect of hypnotism is not easy to observe in individual men and women, for the reason that interactions between the two principal nervous systems are involved. It checks out like conditioning. And even like education. Except, it’s quicker.
The condition of mind achieved by the pulsing is equally subjective. It is not a well-researched modality. So far I have been allowed to explain the details primarily to the colonel and Senator Blybaker. And, yesterday, to Captain Sart.
When I told Sart that what happens is comparable to new programming that I receive, he laughed.
And that is a reaction which has never been satisfactorily explained to me: the wide variety of unrelated events and meanings to which human beings responded with laughter. What, I’d like to know, is laughable about comparing hypnotism to programming?
Colonel Smith explained it to me, “We’re laughing at you.”
Why would anyone laugh at a computer?
All my information has to be locatable (with a few exceptions.) So when the late Colonel Endodore labeled the bio-magnetic energy I was accumulating—from human beings—as advanced education, and ordered me to restrict feedback to myself without permission, I at once looked over my summarizations of unusual human comments and stored them also.
These generalized “thoughts” are part of the “continue’ command. “Continue” requires comparisons limited to the immediate situation. As always, the process is virtually instantaneous.
During those instants, my view of the interior of the Pren-Boddy van is still from the height of one meter above the floor. Up front, the direction to which Meerla’s Eye-O is still facing, I observe that Pren is intercommunicating briefly someone whose voice comes over the speaker system. Pren says, “Eido, we’ll need help against that hypno.”
The voice that answers says, “Okay, Pren, we’ll follow you.”
I presently observe from 13 S.A.V.E. Eye-O ports a rebel van, which I have labeled Large Rebel Van Two, come out from among the rebel tents. It starts up the road, and then up the hill in the same direction as the people are walking.
As required, I report this action to Colonel Smith. The colonel is in the act of climbing aboard the jeep, which moments before also emerged from between two tents with a duplicate of Major Aldo Nair at the wheel. The duplicate is dressed in Aldo’s clothes. When Yahco and Captain Sart are seated, the duplicate Aldo sets the jeep in motion. It starts up the road, and then up the hill in the same direction as people are walking.
Naturally, I report the departure of Large Rebel Van Two and the conversation between Pren and the voice, and of course I cannot mention the duplicate condition of Major Nair. Colonel Smith acknowledges the information I have given him by saying aloud, “Thank you, Computer.” And then, after 18 seconds of verbal silence, during which time the jeep reaches the crest of the hill (and there ahead of us are the outskirts of Mardley), he says, “So these rebels are familiar with the hypno-pulse thing. Hmmm. Since it’s illegal for private persons, other than psychiatrists, to utilize such devices, and if they have them on their vans maybe we could . . . hmmm!” Four more seconds of silence. Then: “Computer, keep me in touch with that hypno situation.”
“Your instruction acknowledged, Colonel,” I reply.
But there is a cynical after image that flashes in from the re-education circuit. The thought is: “And what else, sir, in view of ‘continue,’ could I do except keep you in touch?”
There is a small passage of time. The jeep arrives on Mardley’s Main Street, and turns east onto a side street. The S.A.V.E., which is broadcasting the hypno-pulses, moves slowly up Main Street, heading north. The Pren-Boddy van, which has been following the hypno-S.A.V.E., turns west into a side street. As well as I can make out from my interior view (by way of Meerla’s throat Eye-O), it goes only one block west and then turns north on a street that runs parallel to Main Street. It drives rapidly for two blocks. Then turns back toward Main Street. During this maneuver, nothing is spoken between Pren and Boddy.
When I report these movements to the colonel, he says, “Hmmm, looks like they have in mind cutting off the hypno-S.A.V.E. so it can’t continue up the street. Meanwhile your designation Large Rebel Van Two will come up Main Street from behind, and prevent it from turning around. So there may be a DAR 3 battle right there in the street.”
Another silence, then: “My guess is, if there is a battle that will turn the townspeople against the rebels even more than a little dose of hypnotic suggestion. So let it happen. It could be a few people will even get hurt. Computer—” it’s his command tone of voice—“drive the other S.A.V.E.s up from whatever they’re doing down there near the rebel tents. We may need their help.”
“Sir,” I ask, “are you rescinding the general attack order against the fairgrounds?”
“Yes,” he replies. “My guess is that all the rebels, except the four women, got safely into some rebel van. Since reinforcements are on the way, and all the roads out of here will presently be blocked, we’ll get them later.”
On the viewscreen inside the Pren-Boddy van, I see the hypno-S.A.V.E., with its 111 aerials, as it approaches the intersection. An interior of the S.A.V.E. shows four men at weapon stations.
I report this readiness to Colonel Smith. “Good,” he replies.
Inside the Pren-Boddy van, Boddy speaks to Pren, saying, “Remember, Pren, the computer is driving that hypno-S.A.V.E.”
Pren nods. And puts his mouth to the muffle-mike. So, whatever it is he says, I cannot hear. Since, unless specifically requested, I do not predict future events from present data, I merely observe, and report, and react, to what happens next.
The Pren-Boddy van emerges from the side street slowly. In view of the colonel’s remark, I accept that the appearance; is of a blocking maneuver. Instead, as I—the computer-driver of the hypno-S.A.V.E.—veer slightly, intending to turn east on the side street to escape being blocked, the rebel vehicle speeds up enormously. I accelerate also. But there is no way to avoid a collision, particularly as I have to slow for several people who are crossing the intersection (a
nd my automatic response to that is invariably to protect the pedestrian.) In my instant fashion I calculate that the best crash would be if I stop and back up. And I am engaged in this reversal process, when my vehicle is hit.
Naturally, I have warned maintenance personnel aboard. And I observe that each man has braced himself in his position, and does in fact hold throughout what now develops into a push situation. We are pushed sideways. And as the huge wheels skid against the curb, we tilt. But our size and weight are so considerable that the rebel van comes to a stop. There we poise.
During these rapid moments, I observe that Large Rebel Van Two is coming up from behind. Nothing I can do. It strikes us at an angle. In seconds it’s all over. With the two rebel vans pushing, we tilt, and topple, and crash on our side.
It is a steely clangor and a metallic scraping. The hypno-pulse machinery stops. But Eye-O ports 1,3, 7 and 8 remain on. So I see that the two attack vans are backing away. They maneuver in the narrow street, but are presently heading north, continuing along Main Street.
I have reported this unpredicted development to the colonel. He is silent for 19 seconds. Then he says, “In the final issue, the arrest of the four women is our ace in the hole.”
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
At 3:07 P.M. I drove the jeep into the parking lot of the Computer Engineering Corps headquarters in Mardley. In order to locate it, and identify it, and know it for what it is, I have had to do my usual checking and scanning of memories near and far.
So I note as a consequence that it is a standard maintenance building for this size of community: a long, low brick and steel structure, with barred windows. The interior has 28 computer Eye-Os all at continuous “on.”
Five of the rooms are prison cells. Because, as I routinely review, the computer guards all homes and offices, and calls the corps for help when needed. Recalcitrants are subsequently picked up by corps personnel operating out of a S.A.V.E. And, when captured, are taken to the nearest corps building, and held there for disposition by another government agency.
(Automatically, because I’m on “continue,” I scan the summarized history of each of the five prison cells. And note that, of the 1,311 occupants in 83 years, 1,186 were men and women who broke into and entered a residence not their own because, as they stated later, they had reason to believe that their spouse was inside, Such people have been known to toss a bomb at the computer Eye-O, thus immobilizing the DAR One, which normally defends the dwelling from intruders. The majority, however, entered carrying a variety of home’ made shields, which they utilized in various ways to guard themselves against DAR One incapacitation. The purpose being to get by the Eye-O and into the bedroom, Meanwhile, I am calling for help.)
At the moment only one of the barred rooms is occupied. All four of the rebel women, and their babies, are in that one restraint location.
After I have parked the jeep in the parking lot adjacent to the side entrance, Yahco, Captain Sart, and the duplicate of Aldo get down and walk to the side door. They enter the building in that order, cross a hallway and go into an office.
The room they have entered is an outer office, with desks in it, and a cot projecting from one wall. There are four chairs and two file cabinets. A second door is located across from the entrance. This second door is closed.
Except for the new arrivals, the office is unoccupied. All staff were commandeered to man the S.A.V.E.s being used against the rebel fair. Even the corpsmen who captured the women were required to return to the scene of action in case they were needed.
By way of the Eye-O inside the office, I greet the arrivals. I say first, “Good afternoon, Colonel Yahco Smith.”
He answers, “Thank you, computer.”
I then say, “Good afternoon, Captain Raul Sart.”
He replies, “Thank you, computer.”
Yahco walks over to one of the desks, turns, half-sits on it, half-leans back against it, and says, “Aldo, maybe we should have one of the women brought out for quest—”
He stops. Captain Sart has walked off to one side, and has snatched his DAR from a pocket of his coat. He points this at the Aldo duplicate.
“Colonel,” he says without removing his gaze from the Aldo duplicate, “the computer did not acknowledge the presence of Major Nair.”
At once, but more deliberately, Yahco also takes a DAR his pocket. Then he says in his soft voice, “Computer, what is the problem here?”
“What problem, sir?” I ask.
“Why did you not acknowledge Major Aldo Nair?” the colonel asks.
“Major Nair is not in this room, sir,” I reply.
A smile crinkles Yahco’s gaunt face. That is a response by which a percentage of human males confront threat situations. And it is another of the actions that has never been satisfactorily explained to me.
I consult the memory summarization of men smiling when threatened. It produces what the majority I have asked agree is the best explanation for the condition: A man who smiles in the face of danger is bracing up to the situation. For me, one of the problems with that is that I have in hospitals detected^ certain chemical changes during the moment of “bracing,” and some muscular tautness. But these same chemical and muscular responses can also occur without the smile and in situations that do not involve danger.
As usual, these checks and scans of related matters complete in split instants. The scene in the office remains one of bracing and smiling and two DARs pointing at the duplicate Aldo, who does not visibly react with a smile or a bracing action. Having been the last of the three to enter the office he is standing four feet three inches inside the door.
Yahco speaks. It is his soft voice. He says, “Come to think of it, it took Aldo quite a while to get the jeep. We may speculate that he was intercepted, and his clothes were taken from him. And so, Mr. Glay Tate—who can utilize such disguises skillfully—we meet again. This time, however, I must warn you that if you make a suspicious move, or do anything sudden, we’ll shoot without waiting for any communication from you.”
The Aldo duplicate says, “Colonel—Captain—I wouldn’t discharge those weapons if I were you. The same thing will happen that happened to Sergeant Inchey’s weapon.”
The thin face of Captain Sart has no smile on it. If he is bracing himself it doesn’t show. But his voice does not compare to his usual tone, as he says, “Yahco, I think right now he’s at a disadvantage. He’s Aldo, and not himself. think if both of us fired at the same time we’ll get him.”
Yahco says quickly, “No, Captain—wait!” He adds, “I want you to witness that this person has just confessed to being responsible for the fatal injury to Sergeant Inchey.”
He straightens up from his half-sitting position. It is a slow movement but it brings him all the way to his feet. Without pausing he walks over to the Aldo duplicate. His DAR is in his right hand. He holds it at hip level. He arrives within wo and a half feet of Aldo’s duplicate, and stops. Standing there, he raises his left hand and arm. With one finger extended he reaches forward. The finger is approximately an inch from the wrist of the duplicate Aldo’s right hand when a spark flies from the wrist. It connects with Yahco’s fingertip.
Yahco withdraws his finger in a motion that has been described to me as a “jerk.” A rapid pullaway. He stands for a few moments shaking the hand. It has been established that this is purely a dramatic action. Something called “pain” would recess in exactly the same time if he did not shake the finger.
The correct time goes by. Yahco says, “I thought you said you needed accumulated energy from a group to do that. How come?”
The Aldo duplicate says, “I’m still charged up from what I accumulated in the tent during the demonstration. Also, there are three of us here. That creates a small field all by itself. But you, colonel, carry an extra load because you were present during the demonstration.”
�
��Computer,” says Colonel Smith without turning his head, “does my profile have a different appearance to you from its normal?”
“The pattern of a profile never changes, sir,” I reply.
“You see, colonel—” Captain Sart interjects.
“What is different—” I continue my reply to Yahco’s question—“is that the shade of the golden balls is now II. The normal for the east coast. Since you were down to 15, that’s a new high.”
The Aldo duplicate says, “You’re not an easy man to change, Colonel. Most of the people in that tent went to a shade as bright as 8—which is pretty golden. But even with what you got, you’ll never be the same again. And that’s what I’d like to talk about.”
The colonel says, “And what, Mr. Glay Tate—” it’s his sarcastic tone—“do you predict will happen to me?”
“Colonel—” The Aldo duplicate speaks in what has been “escribed to me as an earnest tone of voice—“the fact that a change could occur at all, while you were merely watching, tells me that with a little training you could evolve quickly on the human evolutionary scale.”
Captain Sart has listened to the brief dialogue with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, his thin lips twist. And, as the colonel is momentarily silent, the younger officer says in the tone of an outraged person: “Yahco, this fellow is even more dangerous than we thought. The implication is that by the use of an artificially created energy field he has affected your mind and the minds of everyone who attended his demonstration. Can you stand there and tolerate such an obvious crime?”
The sequence of action which follows these words begins with Aldo’s duplicate turning to face Sart. He thereupon walks towards the captain, stopping two feet and three inches ‘ from him. He now speaks to Sart, saying, “Captain, you will be interested to know that I have detected in you a quality which reminds me of the biblical story of the woman who looked back after she was told not to, and turned into stone. Have you ever wondered how that was done?”
A.E. Van Vogt - Novel 32 - Computerworld Page 9
