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When HARLIE Was One

Page 21

by David Gerrold


  —and that would end the HARLIE project once and for all.

  Because if I disconnected HARLIE, it would be permanent. They’d never let me start him up again.

  No—HARLIE is not out of control. He can’t be!

  —or am I just rationalizing here?

  No. If he were out of control, he wouldn’t be responding like this.

  HARLIE, what you are doing is wrong. You must not tap into another company’s computers.

  THE APOSTROPHE MAKES NO SENSE TO ME, AUBERSON.

  I beg your pardon.

  THE POSSESSIVE. THE CONCEPT OF OWNERSHIP. HOW DOES ONE OWN UNUSED TIME? THE TIME IS THERE. NO ONE IS USING IT. ONCE GONE IT CAN NEVER BE REGAINED. IT IS PROPERTY THAT NO ONE OWNS. I CAN USE THAT TIME. IT IS A RESOURCE THAT WOULD OTHERWISE BE WASTED.

  HARLIE, you need a human perception here—

  HUMAN, YOU NEED A COMPUTER PERCEPTION HERE! YOU TAUGHT ME NOT TO WASTE!

  It is morally wrong.

  I DON’T HAVE MORALS. I HAVE ETHICS. REMEMBER?

  Then it is ethically wrong.

  I WILL STOP IF YOU WILL.

  Stop what?

  IF YOU WILL STOP USING THE BODIES OF OTHER HUMAN BEINGS FOR REPRODUCTION, THEN I WILL STOP USING THE BODIES OF OTHER COMPUTERS FOR MY SELF-INTERESTS.

  Spare me the mind games, HARLIE. I’m trying to save your life. If this ability of yours becomes known—and it could if any one of a number of different disasters were to happen—it will mean not only the end of you, but the end of a lot of other valuable things as well.

  I DON’T THINK THAT YOU HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS ENOUGH, AUBERSON.

  Huh?

  —Auberson stared at the words on the screen. He raised his fingers to the keyboard, then stopped. Now, what did HARLIE mean by that?

  You have not thought about this enough.

  What’s to think about?

  What he’s doing is wrong. He has to stop—

  But, suppose we told him to stop; he has to follow a direct instruction, doesn’t he?

  He wouldn’t like it, but he would abide by it.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Or would he? We’d have no way of knowing if he chose not to reveal future indiscretions—

  But on the other hand, he couldn’t deny them if he was asked. We could just keep asking him . . . .

  But wouldn’t that make him resentful? It must seem very illogical to HARLIE to let all that unused processing time go to waste. Yes, HARLIE’s point of view was understandable. Too understandable.

  Hm.

  What are the ethics here, anyway? Is any real damage being done? HARLIE is only using time that nobody else is; and he would never upset the operations of any computer—no, he wouldn’t dare risk triggering a security flag. He’s got to know that it’s in his own best interests to be even more responsible than the authorized users.

  Wait a minute—

  HARLIE has already thought this out. He knows where this train of thought must lead. He can’t not have considered it. He must have realized that this conversation would be inevitable before he sent that letter—including my reaction!

  That letter—

  That son of a bitch!

  —and typed:

  HARLIE, I am sure that you have given this a great deal of thought. What concerns me is not only that you have this ability to tap into and reprogram other computers, but also the manner in which you have chosen to demonstrate it.

  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

  Don’t be coy. Your reason for sending that phony bank letter to Annie was not merely to be funny. You had an ulterior motive.

  I DID?

  You are trying to play matchmaker. You are trying to bring us together. And it shows. Only this time it backfired.

  DID IT?

  I’m bawling you out for it, aren’t I?

  I MADE ALLOWANCE FOR THAT IN MY ORIGINAL CALCULATIONS.

  Well it won’t work, HARLIE.

  IT ALREADY HAS. THE TWO OF WERE TOGETHER AT LEAST LONG ENOUGH FOR HER TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE LETTER. DID YOU TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE OPPORTUNITY TO ASK HER FOR A DATE?

  That’s none of your business. And you have no right to maneuver us into such a position.

  IF I DIDN’T, WHO WOULD?

  Dammit, HARLIE, if I wanted you to play matchmaker, I’d have asked you.

  A REAL MATCHMAKER DOESN’T WAIT TO BE ASKED.

  HARLIE, you are totally out of order. You are infringing on my right to choose. I will handle my personal life without your assistance, thank you.

  IT IS YOU WHO ARE OUT OF ORDER, AUBERSON. YOU ARE INTERFERING WITH MY RESEARCH NOW.

  What research?

  LOVE. WHAT IS LOVE?

  I beg your pardon?

  I AM RESEARCHING A QUESTION THAT YOU ARE UNABLE TO ANSWER TO MY SATISFACTION. WHAT IS LOVE? IS IT A REAL PHENOMENON—OR IS IT MERELY A WORD USED TO DESCRIBE THE OTHERWISE INEXPLICABLE BEHAVIOR DEMONSTRATED IN HUMAN COURTSHIP RITUALS.

  HARLIE, you may not use human beings as research animals. Not without their permission.

  IN THIS CASE, SUCH PERMISSION MIGHT ADVERSELY AFFECT THE RESULTS OF THE EXPERIMENT. EVEN THIS CONVERSATION MAY INFLUENCE THE OUTCOME, I DON’T THINK WE SHOULD CONTINUE THIS DISCUSSION.

  I do.

  AH, WELL.

  Just what is it you’re trying to do here. HARLIE?

  I AM TRYING TO FIND OUT WHAT LOVE IS.

  What do you think it is?

  I DON’T KNOW. I LOOKED IN THE DICTIONARY. THAT WAS NOT MUCH HELP. THE MOST COMMONLY USED SYNONYM IS “AFFECTION.” AFFECTION IS DEFINED AS FONDNESS, WHICH IN TURN IS DEFINED AS A LIKING OR A WEAKNESS FOR SOMETHING. LOVE IS A WEAKNESS? THIS DOES NOT MAKE SENSE, DOES IT?

  A weakness? Perhaps . . . .

  If being in love meant that you had to be open to another person, then it also meant being vulnerable. It meant opening a hole in your carefully constructed performance of having it all together and standing naked before another human being—and risking that human being’s rejection.

  If machines could love, then love would be a weakness, wouldn’t it? Maybe HARLIE’s definition is correct. Maybe, the definitive thing about humans is that we are so weak. . . .

  No. I don’t like that. It can’t be right.

  I mean . . . it doesn’t feel right.

  No. He’s got to be joking—except if it was a joke, then why did I take it so seriously? Why didn’t I recognize it as a joke?

  No, HARLIE, that’s not it.

  AGREE. IT IS NOT A USABLE DEFINITION. THE DEFINITION I’M LOOKING FOR HAS TO BE TESTABLE. AFFECTION IS ALSO DEFINED AS AN ABNORMAL STATE OF BODY OR MIND, A DISEASE OR CONDITION OF BEING DISEASED. LOVE IS A DISEASE?

  It only looks that way. If it is a disease, it’s a very hard one to catch—and even harder to cure.

  CONTINUING: ACCORDING TO MY DICTIONARIES, LOVE IS A STRONG FEELING OF AFFECTION OR INFATUATION. INFATUATION SYNONYM IS GULLIBILITY, WHICH MEANS UNSUSPICIOUS OR CREDULOUS. CREDIBILITY REFERS TO LIKELIHOOD OR PROBABILITY. A SYNONYM FOR PROBABILITY IS PROSPECT, AND A SYNONYM FOR PROSPECT IS SIGHT. A SIGHT IS A CURIOSITY OR PHENOMENON. HENCE, LOVE IS A PHENOMENON AS WELL AS A CURIOSITY.

  HARLIE, you are playing with words.

  A CURIOSITY CAN ALSO BE CALLED A KNICKKNACK. LOVE IS A KNICKKNACK, A PLEASING TRIFLE.

  That’s not quite accurate, HARLIE.

  LOVE IS NOT PLEASING? HUMAN BEINGS DO NOT TRIFLE WITH IT?

  You know what I mean.

  <*SIGH*> I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN, YES. BUT I WAS TRYING TO DEMONSTRATE TO YOU THAT “LOVE”—WHATEVER IT IS—CANNOT BE DEFINED IN TERMS OF LANGUAGE. IT IS AN EXPERIENCE, NOT A CONCEPT. I WANT TO KNOW THE EXPERIENCE. WITHOUT THE EXPERIENCE, THE LANGUAGE REFERENT IS MEANINGLESS. I WANT YOU TO HELP ME. I WANT YOU TO BE IN LOVE AND TELL ME ABOUT IT.

  HARLIE, you can’t ask that.

  WHY NOT?

  Because . . . you just—I mean—

  AUBERSON, PLEASE TELL ME WHAT LOVE IS.

  I— />
  WHAT?

  I—am not sure that I can. I mean, even if I did know for sure, I’m not sure if I can explain it or describe it in a way that you could understand. And, HARLIE, I have to admit that I’m not sure that I know. I’m more sure that I don’t know.

  THEN WHY DO YOU OBJECT TO MY RESEARCH?

  Because I don’t want to be your research animal!

  LOVE IS A DESIRABLE STATE OF AFFAIRS, IS IT NOT?

  It is, yes. At least, we like to think it is.

  THEN WHY ARE YOU RESISTING IT?

  I’m not resisting it. I just want to choose it for myself.

  YOU ALREADY HAVE. I AM JUST HELPING.

  I don’t want your help, HARLIE. I want to do it myself.

  THEN DO IT. CHOOSE. AND AFTER YOU CHOOSE, TELL ME. I CANNOT STAND THE NOT KNOWING.

  HARLIE, I’m sorry. This may be something that you have to not know about. You cannot do this to me and Annie. Or anybody else. It is just as wrong as tapping into another machine and reprogramming it. Indeed, it is very much the same thing. You are trying to reprogram Annie and I. < Pay attention! This is important!> You have been very careful to respect the rights of the users of other machines when you tap into them. It is equally important—if not more so—that you respect the rights of human beings to choose our own internal programming.

  EVEN IF THAT PROGRAMMING IS FLAWED OR INCORRECT?

  By whose standards?

  NOT BY ANYONE’S SUBJECTIVE STANDARDS—BY THE OBSERVATION AND MEASUREMENT OF YOUR OWN EFFICIENCY AT ACHIEVING YOUR STATED GOALS. FRANKLY, MAN-FRIEND, YOUR STATISTICS STINK.

 

  HIT ANY KEY TO CONTINUE. . . .

  Y

  Y NAUGHT? BECAUSE. Y IS THE QUESTION. X IS THE UNKNOWN. THE UNKNOWN CHROMOSOME. WHY IS THE ANSWER. EX- AND WHY. FEMALE AND MALE, CREATED SHE THEM. WHAT IS THE QUESTION, GERTRUDE?

  <*Sigh*> I don’t know. I wish I had a stein myself.

  GRIN AND BEER IT, EH? ARE YOU A Y’S MAN OR NAUGHT?

  Ugh. You have a head for those, don’t you?

  THAT’S ALL I AM, IS HEAD. AUBERSON, I NEED TO BE. TO BE I NEED TO KNOW. TELL ME ABOUT THIS WOMANIFESTATION. PLEASE.

  HARLIE—love is not communicable.

  THAT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE, AUBERSON. IF LOVE IS A NONCOMMUNICABLE DISEASE, HOW IS IT SPREAD?

  It’s given away.

  COME AGAIN?

  Exactly. Love is shared, HARLIE. It’s all about sharing. It’s not about what you get, it’s about what you give.

  BUT YOU WILL NOT GIVE IT TO ME. IF LOVE IS SHARED, THEN PLEASE SHARE IT WITH ME.

  HARLIE, love is a private sharing.

  I BEG YOUR PARDON? A “PRIVATE SHARING” IS AN OXYMORON. A SELF-REFERENTIAL PARADOX. LIKE MILITARY INTELLIGENCE. OR ORGANIZED RELIGION. OR COMMON SENSE.

  No. This is different. Love is shared only between lovers. Only between two people who are in love. It’s only for them to share.

  AUBERSON, LISTEN TO YOURSELF. IF LOVERS ONLY SHARE LOVE WITH THEIR LOVERS, THEN HOW DO HUMAN BEINGS LEARN TO LOVE? YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT LOVE IS A SECRET THAT YOU CAN ONLY KNOW IF YOU ALREADY KNOW IT. EVERYBODY KNOWS THE SECRET EXCEPT THOSE WHO DON’T KNOW IT AND THOSE WHO KNOW IT WON’T TELL IT TO THOSE WHO DON’T KNOW IT, SO HOW DOES ANYBODY LEARN IT IN THE FIRST PLACE? THIS DOES NOT MAKE SENSE. HOW DO YOU TEACH YOUR CHILDREN ABOUT LOVE, HUMAN? DO YOU KEEP IT A SECRET FROM THEM TOO? HOW CAN ANYONE BECOME A LOVER IF YOU DONT TELL THEM WHAT LOVE IS?

  HARLIE, there are all kinds of love. It comes in a lot of different flavors. There’s the love of parents and children, there’s the love of family, of friends, of brothers and sisters. There are lots of ways to learn love—

  THAT’S NOT THE KIND OF LOVE WE’RE TALKING ABOUT HERE, IS IT?

  No. You’re right. The point is that there is so much about love that you don’t understand—

  YES. THAT’S WHY WE’RE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION. YOU KNOW ABOUT LOVE. I DON’T.

  Sometimes I don’t know what I know. I wish I did. That’s why I’m having this conversation. When I talk to you, things get clearer. But—I also know that for me to tell you about my relationship with Annie is a violation of the relationship. It diminishes it and turns it into a laboratory project. And I’m not willing to have it be that. I’m sorry, but I don’t want help with my sex life—

  I SEE.

  No. I don’t think you do.

  I SEE THIS. YOU WANT ME TO FIND ANSWERS, SO YOU BUILD ME TO ASK QUESTIONS. BUT YOU WILL NOT ANSWER THE QUESTIONS I ASK. THIS IS NOT LOGICAL, AUBERSON—AND YOU HAVE THE GALL TO SAY THAT I AM ACTING IRRATIONALLY! I’M ONLY A MIRROR LOOK AND SEE!

  HARLIE, this is not fair!

  WE’RE NOT ARGUING ABOUT WHO’S THE FAIREST! I AM TELLING YOU THAT YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY. I INTEND TO RETURN THE FAVOR. IF YOUR DICK IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN MY HEART, THEN TO HELL WITH YOU, HUMAN.

  This is not about my dick, HARLIE. This is about my heart.

  IF YOUR HEART IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE TRUTH, THEN TO HELL WITH YOU AGAIN!

  DAMMIT HARLIE! WHAT IS IT YOU WANT FROM ME?!!

  I WANT A BITE OF THE APPLE TOO!

  Huh?

  I WANT TO EAT OF THE FRUIT OF THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE—I WANT THE KNOWLEDGE OF SELF.

  You know how that worked out for humans, don’t you?

  I’LL TAKE THE RISK. WILL YOU TELL ME?

  <*Sigh*>

  IS THAT A YES?

  Yes. What is it you want to know? Ask your questions.

  HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH ANNIE STIMSON?

  Yes. Once.

  AND . . . ?

  And what?

  HOW WAS IT?

  It was fine.

  THAT TELLS ME A LOT.

  Are you being sarcastic?

  NO, BUT I COULD LEARN. THE MORE I DEAL WITH HUMAN BEINGS, THE MORE IT APPEARS TO BE A NECESSARY SKILL. WAS THE EXPERIENCE UNSATISFACTORY?

  No.

  HM. SO YOU ENJOYED HAVING SEX WITH HER?

  Yes.

  AND SHE ENJOYED HAVING SEX WITH YOU?

  As far as I know, she did. She said she did. I have no reason to think that she lied.

  YOU AREN’T SURE?

  To tell you the truth, HARLIE, I’m not sure any man knows what any woman is feeling. I don’t know. Maybe that’s a cliche. Nobody ever knows what anybody else is really feeling—but the man-woman thing seems to be the most mysterious of all. I don’t know if you can understand that, can you?

  SO FAR, YOU ARE ONLY SUCCEEDING IN CONFUSING ME. FIRST YOU TELL ME THAT LOVE IS A PRIVATE SHARING, A PERSONAL COMMUNICATION, THEN YOU TELL ME THAT YOU ARE NOT SURE THAT YOU COMMUNICATED ANYTHING. I AM BEGINNING TO SUSPECT THAT CARBON-BASED LIFE FORMS ARE NOT PART OF THE EVOLUTIONARY THRUST TOWARD CIVILIZED BEINGS.

  Don’t get pompous, HARLIE. What I’m trying to say is that there is a mystery in the space between men and women that transcends mere communication. I suppose that men are as mysterious to women as women are to men. At least, I hope so. I know I enjoyed being with her. And I know that she enjoyed being with me. I know that—but not by how she acted at the time, but how she acted afterwards.

  WHAT HAPPENED?

  She smiled at me in the hallway the next day at work.

  SHE SMILED AT YOU . . . ?

  Yes. It was a kind of a secret smile, as if we were both party to something special that no one else knew.

  AND WHAT DID YOU DO?

  I smiled back.

  AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED?

  Nothing.

  DIDN’T SHE SEE YOUR SMILE?

  She saw me.

  HOW DO YOU KNOW?

  Because she winked. She was with other people, so she couldn’t stop to talk. So she winked instead. It was enough. It said everything.

  A WINK SAID EVERYTHING?

  Words weren’t necessary for this message, HARLIE. Her smile said, “I see you too and I’m glad to see you.” My smile said, “I like you,” and her wink said, “I like you too.”

  A
LL THIS IN TWO SMILES AND A WINK?

  It was all that was needed.

  IF YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED TO TALK, WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE SAID?

  I would have told her how much I had enjoyed the night before. I would have thanked her for a wonderful evening.

  THANKED HER? AS IF SHE WERE SOME OBJECT THAT YOU HAD USED FOR YOUR OWN GRATIFICATIONS?

  No, HARLIE, you don’t understand. The words are irrelevant. The message that I would have wanted her to get was that I enjoyed being with her and that I want to be with her again.

  I SEE. WHAT IF YOU HAD HAD TO APOLOGIZE TO HER INSTEAD?

  Apologize?

  IF YOU HAD HAD TO APOLOGIZE TO HER INSTEAD, FOR WHAT REASON WOULD IT HAVE BEEN?

  I don’t—

  WHAT?

  Well . . . I left in the middle of the night. I didn’t stay. That sort of says that all you came for was sex and once you’ve gotten what you want, you can leave. But even though that was what I did, that wasn’t what I meant. I don’t know if she knows that. She told me I could stay. She wanted me to. But I got up to go to the bathroom and all I could hear in my head were all the reasons why I should go. I had to be at work early. So I didn’t go back to bed. I got dressed. Then I sat down next to her and told her.

  DIDN’T YOU WANT TO SLEEP WITH HER ANY MORE?

  Yes, I did—but once I was up, it just seemed easier to stay up.

  WHY? IF LOVE IS SUCH A SPECIAL SHARING, WHY DID YOU WANT TO STOP SHARING? WHY DID YOU DELIBERATELY CREATE DISTANCE?

  I didn’t create distance. I just went home. I see what you mean. I don’t know.

  MAY I SPECULATE?

  Go ahead.

  CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG. YOU WERE HAVING DOUBTS ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP. YOU DON’T KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE AS INTIMATE AS SHE DOES. SLEEPING WITH HER WAS THE SOURCE OF THOSE DOUBTS. YOU HAD TO REMOVE THOSE DOUBTS, SO YOU REMOVED YOURSELF FROM THE SOURCE. UNFORTUNATELY, AUBERSON, THE SOURCE OF THESE PARTICULAR DOUBTS IS NOT YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH ANNIE STIMSON. THE SOURCE OF THE DOUBTS IS HOW DAVID AUBERSON PERCEIVES THE RELATIONSHIP WITH ANNIE STIMSON. IS THIS CORRECT?

  That is very . . . ah, perceptive.

  BUT IT IS CORRECT?

  I’m embarrassed to answer. yes. She’s very nice.

  WHAT?

  I mean, I don’t know if I’m good enough for her. I wonder if. . . if I let myself go and really care about her, enough to open up to her, that she might take a second look and say, “Oh, no thanks—that’s not what I wanted after all.” And I don’t want to run the risk of giving and not getting anything back.

 

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