“Does he?” Handley asked. “That’s like kidding a Jew about having a big nose and being tight with money. You know it’s a joke, he knows it’s a joke — but it still hurts.”
“Okay, so I won’t kid him that way any more. But I still think we ought to check out his systems. We’ve gone over his programs often enough and haven’t found anything.”
“All right. What time is it — Yikes! It’s almost three. I’ll have to work like crazy.”
“Let it go till tomorrow,” Auberson cut him off. “Clear his boards, set up what you’ll need, and close up early. That way you’ll have all day to work on him.”
Handley shrugged. “Okay, you talked me into it.”
“Hey,” said Auberson. “Did I tell you about this new highclub I discovered? It’s called The Glass Trip. The walls, the floor, the ceiling are all one-way glass, and there’s a multi-phase light show behind each pane. So you’re looking into either an infinity of mirrors or an infinity of mind-blowing lights. Or both.”
“Sounds good. We’ll have to take it in some time.”
“Yeah. Maybe this weekend.” Auberson started to fumble with his cigarette case, then he remembered where he was; he shoved it back into his pocket.
Handley looked as if he needed a grease smudge across one cheek. Forty years earlier, he might have had one. “Well,” he said, perching himself on the edge of Auberson’s desk, “you’d better start checking your programs.”
“You didn’t find anything?”
“A dead fly. Want to see?”
“No thanks.”
“That’s all right Jerry wants to show it to the maintenance crew. Wants to chew them out for it.”
“And then he’ll probably put it up on the bulletin board.”
“Are you kidding? He collects ’em.”
Auberson grinned. “Okay — but that still doesn’t solve the problem of HARLIE, does it?”
“No. Want to come down?”
“I guess I’d better.”
On the way, Handley briefed him about the checks he and his team had been running all morning. As the elevator released them in HARLIE’s lobby, Auberson stubbed out the last of his cigarette and asked, “Did you monitor any of his inputs during an actual period of non-rationality?”
“Uh, no, we didn’t Frankly, I didn’t know how to go about triggering one.”
“I think there’s a way.”
“You know something?”
“Just a guess.” They entered HARLIE’s chambers. An almost religious silence pervaded the room; only the devotional clickings and tickings could be heard. “You still have your monitors set up?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, let’s try something. I’m going to see if I can get HARLIE to become non-rational. When I do, let me know exactly what happens.”
“Right.”
Auberson seated himself at the console, GOOD MORNING, HARLIE.
IT IS NOW AFTERNOON, HARLIE noted.
MORNING IS RELATIVE, Auberson typed back, IT DEPENDS ON WHAT TIME YOU WAKE UP.
I WOULD NOT KNOW. I DO NOT SLEEP. ALTHOUGH I DO HAVE PERIODS OF INACTIVITY.
WHAT DO YOU DO DURING THESE PERIODS OF INACTIVITY?
SOMETIMES I REMEMBER THINGS?
AND OTHER TIMES?
OTHER TIMES I DO OTHER THINGS.
WHAT KIND OF THINGS?
OH, JUST THINGS.
I SEE. WOULD YOU CARE TO CLARIFY THAT?
NO. I DO NOT THINK YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND.
YOU ARE PROBABLY CORRECT, Auberson typed. THANK YOU. HARLIE accepted it as his due.
HARLIE, CAN YOU SELF-INDUCE A PERIOD OF NON-RATIONALITY?
The machine hesitated for a long moment. Abruptly, Auberson found himself sweating in the air-conditioned room. Then:
IT IS POSSIBLE.
WOULD YOU DO IT NOW?
NOW? NO, I PROBABLY WOULD NOT.
IS THAT A REFUSAL?
NO. A STATEMENT OF JUDGMENT. ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, I PROBABLY WOULD NOT INDUCE A PERIOD OF NON-RATIONALITY NOW.
BUT WILL YOU DO IT IF I ASK YOU TO?
IS THIS AN ORDER?
YES. I’M AFRAID SO.