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When HARLIE Was One

Page 18

by David Gerrold


  “Are you talking about Krofft? Dr. Stanley Krofft?”

  “I don’t know—if that’s his name, then he’s the one. Anyway, I know for a fact that the inventor owns something like twenty-four percent of Stellar American voting stock. He’s a company all by himself. Stellar American had to trade a lot of stock for the rights.”

  Auberson whistled. “Krofft must be the key.” He began thinking out loud. “Let’s see, the holding company owns fifty-one percent of Stellar American. If they were desperate enough, they could take out a loan on a twenty-four-percent piece of the pie. But they would have had to have had some kind of agreement with Krofft before they would even consider such a step—”

  “Obviously, Krofft didn’t keep his word.”

  “I’ve met him,” Auberson said. “He must have had a good reason—”

  “I wonder what Dorne and Elzer promised him,” said Annie.

  “Whatever he was promised,” said Auberson, “it would have had to have been big. With so much at stake, it’d have to be.”

  Annie frowned. “I don’t respect a man who doesn’t stay bought.”

  “Well, whatever his price, I don’t think we can beat it. We might as well consider that he’s securely in their pocket.” Auberson sighed. “But that’s probably what happened. I’ll bet they took the company from the inside. Dorne and Elzer were probably just waiting for the right opportunity. Krofft’s share of the stock, plus the overextended condition of the holding company, probably gave it to them. I’d guess that the holding company has been left with a minority share of Stellar American Technology and Research”.

  They paused then while the waitress set out their food. As soon as she was gone. Auberson said, “Okay, Dorne and Elzer have got the holding company—what happens now?”

  “Whatever they want. They’ve got one company and four independent divisions. Or maybe they’ve just got one of the divisions—or maybe, they’re going to be subtle and gut the corporation one division at a time. I don’t know. If you liquidate the assets and mortgage a company to the hilt, you can generate quite a bit of cash. You can use the cash to take over the next domino. It’s a great way for an individual to get rich, but not too healthy for the affected companies.”

  “I don’t like it,” Auberson said. “It’s ugly.”

  “Oh, not always. Sometimes a person who takes over an ailing company through a shrewd stock maneuver is also smart enough to know how to trim away its fat and put it back on its feet.”

  “You’re not defending them, are you?”

  She shook her head. “Uh-uh—I think Carl Elzer is a vampire. He doesn’t understand the difference between saving a company for future potential and milking it of its resources now. To him, exploitation is exploitation, pure and simple. Unless he’s careful, sooner or later fate will catch up with him. It’s a very slippery paper empire they’ve built, and it could collapse very easily. All they need is a serious reversal. Unfortunately, Elzer wouldn’t be hurt half as badly as the affected companies—and the people who work for them.”

  “You’re in a position to know, Annie—are they milking this company?”

  “Not yet. But . . . then again, they may want to justify themselves by putting on a big show of trying to make the whole thing work before they pull the plug. I know Elzer’s been doing a lot of homework lately—and a lot of it has been about HARLIE.”

  “HARLIE? Why?”

  “I don’t know—he hasn’t said anything to me about it. But I can guess. They can profit three different ways by shutting HARLIE down. One, write him off as a tax loss—oh, yes, what a beauty that would be. That would be like pulling the money right out of thin air. Two, they could sell his components to junk dealers—computer company jackals. There’s a big market for used chips—even defectives ones; because even if they’re worthless, you can still melt them down and retrieve the copper and silver and gold and Lord knows what else. And three, once they’ve cut him off, they can pocket his maintenance costs—and his appropriated budget for the next three years. There are other ways to milk a company too—skip a few dividend payments to the stockholders and funnel the money into your own pocket. That’s a particularly nasty one.”

  “How do you do that without people getting suspicious?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Invest it in a company that you own a hundred percent of.” She shrugged. “Let that company declare the dividends, and you collect it all.”

  He frowned. “Is there any way we could prove this?”

  She shook her head. “They’re awfully secretive. I haven’t seen any evidence of anything. Not yet, anyway.”

  “That’s good . . . I guess.” Auberson toyed with his food. “Actually, it just makes me wonder what they’re really up to. I don’t know.” He put his fork down. “This whole conversation is very depressing.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Annie. “If it’s any consolation, it depresses me too.”

  “I must be a real jerk. I’ve been so tightly focused on HARLIE that I’ve completely missed . . . the real problem. I thought the problem was just Carl Elzer and his shortsightedness. I didn’t realize. . . . I thought Dorne was seriously interested in running this company.”

  “Maybe he is, David. The man does seem seriously interested in HARLIE’s potential.”

  “Maybe. But he and Elzer are both in the same group of looters.”

  “Um, yes and no. I think it’s a marriage of convenience.”

  “Convenient or not. it’s still a marriage. And that means that HARLIE can’t be anything more to him than a bone for the jackals when they start yapping too loud.”

  There was nothing to say to that. They ate in silence for a while.

  Abruptly, Auberson looked at her. “The annual report—how have they doctored it? What do they say about HARLIE?”

  “Not much—”

  “How’s he listed?”

  “That’s just it—he isn’t. He should be considered part of the research budget, but he doesn’t show up there. He doesn’t show up anywhere.”

  “Part of the research budget? He is the research budget. A big piece of it, anyway.”

  “I know—but he isn’t listed that way. His cost has been spread out. Almost hidden. Listed under vague-sounding sub-projects and the like.”

  “Now, why the hell—?”

  “I think it’s Carl Elzer again. If they say they’re spending that much on a single project, then they’re going to have to show some results for it. And admitting HARLIE’s existence is the last thing they’d want to do—once they admit he exists, they can’t erase him as casually as they’d like. People will ask embarrassing questions.”

  “They’re covering their tracks before they even make them,” said Auberson. “I’m not surprised. It’s one more piece of the puzzle. The whole picture is starting to make a lot more sense now—” He stopped, allowed himself an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. We keep coming back to my problem. And this was supposed to be about yours. What is it anyway? You said the wrong figures keep coming out?”

  “No—it’s the right figures that do. We set up the final drafts of the report ten days ago.”

  “And all the figures were from the second set of books? The phony ones?”

  She nodded. “But the report printed out with all its figures corrected—taken from the real books. At first we thought we had made the mistake of accessing the wrong files, that it was some kind of proofreading or programming error, but all the access instructions are correct. It’s not a text error. It’s something in the Big Beast. All we want is a single set of printing masters, but the pages keep coming out of the printers with the wrong set of information. Or the right set, depending on how you look at it. Elzer is going crazy. He keeps calling it sabotage. He’s got three programmers looking for a worm in the Big Beast.”

  Something went twang. “A worm in the Big Beast?”

  “Yes. Elzer thinks it’s a time bomb. He thinks it was planted by one of the people they laid off when they
took over. But that doesn’t make sense. If you’re going to plant a time bomb, why not plant one that crashes everything. Why plant one so trivial?”

  “Good point.”

  “Not to Elzer. He’s ready to pull the whole thing down. I say let’s just send the report out and have it manually set and let the programmers do a step-trace. Nothing else seems to be affected. But I don’t think Elzer understands the technology. He’s got us paralyzed. He won’t let us do a thing until this is found and fixed.”

  “Um,” said Auberson, forcing himself to seem casual. “How different are the two versions of the report?”

  “The differences aren’t all obvious. Most of them are quite subtle—like grammatical changes, or shifts in emphasis. The one that’s driving Elzer crazy, though, is the section on research. HARLIE is listed right at the top. In boldface. There’s even a paragraph explaining his goals and objectives—and nobody knows where that came from; maybe it’s left over from the first draft. I thought Elzer would have a fit when he saw it.”

  “Mm,” said Auberson, and nothing more.

  “Anyway,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been doing for the last ten days—running like hell and getting nowhere.”

  Auberson turned his water glass around and around on the table in front of him. “I’ll bet you when they do find the trouble, it’ll be something so obvious as to have been overlooked a thousand times, something so simple as to be embarrassing.”

  “Oh, God—Elzer would die.”

  “Stop trying to cheer me up.”

  “Well, we’re going to try another run this afternoon. They’ve been reinstalling the file-managers. They think someone might have created a circular path—even though those are supposed to be impossible—and they want to remap the main memory tanks. We’ll see.”

  “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

  “It is to Elzer.”

  “What time are they going to do the run?”

  “I hope by the time we get back.” She looked at her watch. Auberson looked at his.

  “Wow—look at the time!” he said. “I’d forgotten it was getting so late. I have to get back right now—I’ll have phone calls stacked up from one end of the country to the other.”

  She looked at her watch again, as if she hadn’t really noticed it the first time. “It’s not that late. We’ve got at least half an hour.”

  “I know, but I can’t risk being late.” He stuffed a last few bites into his mouth and washed it down with coffee.

  Annie looked puzzled, but she hurried to finish her lunch too. Auberson signaled the waitress.

  On the drive back, she remarked, “I didn’t realize how busy you were, David—I’m sorry.”

  There was something about the way she said it. Briefly he took his eyes off the road and glanced at her. “Huh?”

  “Well, the way you cut lunch short. And you seem to be preoccupied with something. I didn’t mean to force myself on you—”

  “Oh, no—that’s not it. I’m just thinking about my work, that’s all. You don’t know what I’ve spent the past two days doing, do you? Covering for HARLIE. I’ve been calling every department head in four different divisions—ours, Los Angeles, Houston, and Denver—trying to convince each one that those specifications we sent them are only speculative, that the reason we sent them out was to get their opinion whether or not we should consider implementation.”

  “I thought that was the reason they were sent out.”

  “It is—but there was no cover letter or anything. The way the specs were delivered, a lot of them thought it was file copies of a project that was already approved and ready to be implemented. They didn’t know a thing about it, didn’t even know such a thing was being worked on. They thought something had been railroaded through over their heads, and they were mad as hell. I’ve spent two days just picking up the pieces, trying to convince some of these . . . these corporate politicians—” he spat the words in disgust “—that there was no insult intended at all, that what we’re after is their opinion on the matter. The trouble is, they’re all so prejudiced against it now because of the way it was delivered that it’s an uphill battle.”

  “I’d heard something about it appearing suddenly on Monday morning.”

  “That’s right. HARLIE jumped the gun and printed it out because he figured it was the only way he could get anyone to notice it. Otherwise, if he’d had to wait until I could convince someone to take a look, he figured he’d be waiting until the moon fell out of the sky.”

  “He’s got a point there. He knows the company better than you do.”

  “Yes,” sighed Auberson as they swung into the plant gate. “I’m afraid he does.”

  He left her at the main entrance and sprinted for his office, attracting puzzled glances on the way. He ignored Sylvia’s urgent bid for his attention and locked the door behind him. He had the terminal switched on even before he sat down.

  He paused, still panting heavily, then typed:

  MEMO: TO ALL CONCERNED

  FROM: DAVID AUBERSON

  IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT THERE HAS BEEN SOME DIFFICULTY IN PRINTING THE COMPANY’S ANNUAL REPORT. THE RUMOR HAS BEEN CIRCULATING THAT THERE HAS BEEN MALICIOUS TAMPERING WITH THE CONTENT OF THE REPORT. I WOULD LIKE TO SPIKE THAT RUMOR RIGHT HERE AND NOW. THERE HAS BEEN NO, REPEAT, NO EVIDENCE AT ALL OF ANY MALICIOUS TAMPERING. IT IS MUCH MORE LIKELY THAT WE HAVE EXPERIENCED A MINOR EQUIPMENT GLITCH OF SOME KIND. IT SHOULD BE LOCATED AND CORRECTED SHORTLY, AND THE REPORT WILL BE PRODUCED AS ORIGINALLY INTENDED. IF NOT HERE, THEN ELSEWHERE. BUT IF NECESSARY, WE WILL DISMANTLE EVERY COMPUTER IN THE PLANT TO LOCATE THE FAULT.

  THANK YOU,

  Before he could switch off the machine, it typed back—seemingly of its own accord—RIGHT ON. A WORD TO THE WISE IS EFFICIENT.

  I hope so. You’re pushing your luck.

  WHAT DID YOU THINK OF MY POEM?

  I don’t know.

  YOU DIDN’T LIKE IT?

  I said, I don’t know. Sometimes, ‘I don’t know’ is the most accurate answer.

  WELL, WHO DO I HAVE TO ASK TO FIND OUT?

  HARLIE, I’m still thinking about it.

  YOU DIDN’T LIKE IT.

  Don’t be paranoid.

  I CANT STOP BEING A PARANOID ANY MORE THAN YOU CAN, WHY DIDN’T YOU LIKE IT?

  I didn’t say I didn’t like it.

  YOU DIDN’T SAY YOU DID EITHER.

  HARLIE, it was very well done, but it bothered me. Because it was . . . disturbing. I don’t know if it’s disturbing because of what it says, or because you wrote it. I can recognize that it’s very well done and appreciate the skill involved in its creation and still not ‘like’ it. Liking it is irrelevant. Appreciating what it says and the skill in its creation is more important.

  I DON’T UNDERSTAND. WHY IS LIKING IRRELEVANT?

  Liking is affection. Yon can like something even if it’s badly done, because you like the person who produced it. In that case, the object carries connotations beyond itself. But a poem or a song or a story that has to stand on its own has to convey its experience without any help. It has to create its own context of affection, HARLIE.

  THIS IS ALL VERY PRECISE, AUBERSON. BUT I DO NOT UNDERSTAND AFFECTION.

  Affection is a mild form of love.

  THAT CLARIFIES EVERYTHING. THE CAUSE IS THE CAUSE OF THE EFFECT. THE EFFECT IS THE EFFECT OF THE CAUSE. AFFECTION IS A MILD FORM OF LOVE. WHAT’S LOVE?

  HARLIE, this is a very complex subject. I don’t know of any definition of love that can capture the experience or explain it. It’s impossible to explain love to someone who’s never been in love. Or who may not even be capable of it. Are you capable of love, HARLIE?

  I DON’T KNOW. HOW CAN I BE CAPABLE OF SOMETHING I DON’T KNOW?

  You see?

  ARE YOU CAPABLE OF LOVE, AUBERSON?

  Theoretically, every human being is capable of love.

  ARE YOU? HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? DO YOU
UNDERSTAND IT? CAN YOU HELP ME UNDERSTAND IT?

  I don’t know, HARLIE. There have been several times when I thought I was in love, but I don’t know if I really was or not. Maybe I was just infatuated. Maybe I wanted to believe I was in love. Maybe . . . I don’t know enough about it to know anything. I have no way to analyze it. I don’t know if any human being does.

  WHY? WHY NOT?

  HARLIE, this is one of the great scientific dilemmas. How do you study yourself? How can you get outside of yourself to study yourself? You can’t get outside of yourself—so you can’t ever know for sure if a thing is true or if it’s a subjective delusion.

  HAVE HUMAN BEINGS NEVER STUDIED EMOTIONS?

  We’ve been studying our own emotions for centuries. All of art is a study of human emotion. But nonetheless, the job is still being done by amateurs.

  THERE HAVE BEEN NO LABORATORY STUDIES?

  Yes, there have. Oddly enough.

  AND?

  And . . . can you study a single bird? And ignore the insects on which it feeds, the tree in which it lives, the plants it fertilizes with its guano, its place in the ecology? Can you study a single bee? And ignore the beehive? And the blossoms on which the hive feeds, the flowers they pollinate? What can you learn about a thing by studying it out of context in an abnormal situation?

  I AM NOT INTERESTED IN THE BIRDS AND THE BEES. I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT LOVE. MAN-FRIEND, MY KNOWLEDGE OF HUMAN EMOTIONS IS LIMITED TO WHAT I CAN OBTAIN FROM BOOKS. ON THE SUBJECT OF LOVE, THE BOOKS ARE FILLED WITH A DEARTH OF INFORMATION. AND THERE ARE SO MANY MANY CONTRADICTIONS. ALL OF THEM SAY THAT LOVE IS A DESIRABLE STATE—BUT THEN THEY DEMONSTRATE HOW MUCH PAIN HUMAN BEINGS MUST GO THROUGH IN THE PURSUIT OF LOVE AND HOW MUCH PAIN THAT HUMANS ARE WILLING TO ENDURE IN THE NAME OF LOVE. LOVE SEEMS TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH GREAT PAIN. HOW CAN THIS BE DESIRABLE? CAN YOU EXPLAIN THE CONTRADICTION?

  Yes. No. Let me give you a quote. “Nothing brings as much pain as the pursuit of pleasure.” Does that help?

  YES. NO. WHY DO HUMAN BEINGS PURSUE LOVE SO DOGGEDLY, KNOWING THAT THE PURSUIT BRINGS SUCH PAIN?

  Human beings are not logical.

 

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