The Turing Option

“Yes — everything else. It is hard to think of anything that cannot be revolutionized by adding more intelligence. Think of the recycling industry — they still mix things up so much that most manufacturing has to start from scratch. But with mass-produced MI processors every bit of trash can be analyzed and disassembled into much more usable ingredients. Then there is city street cleaning and maintenance. There is no limit here to these really great potentials. And remember that Bug-Off had to hide the fact that it contained an MI. But now we can brag about ours. And I also have another list with a large number of suggestions for military applications — but these stay in the files until I get some cooperation from General Schorcht.”

“Is that really fair to the Pentagon, Brian? Since they do have a stake in this firm.” Rohart smiled. “But considering your forced incarceration I think I’ll forget that you ever told me about a military list.”

“Thanks. In any case there are more than enough commercial applications in here without even thinking about the military. Basically an MI should be able, intellectually, to do anything that a human being can do. Let’s consider safety. There are an awful lot of people who we train to do terribly boring jobs. Pilots of ships and airplanes are good examples. Those occupations used to be challenging, but now they are so almost completely automated that the little remaining work in those once proud jobs have made them inhumanly monotonous. It is impossible to make people remain continuously attentive. They can make an error, there can be an accident. This doesn’t happen to robots, who need not forget, nor ever lose their vigilance. Commercial planes already fly by wire and there is computer control always between the pilot and the ailerons, rudder, engines — everything. A pilot MI would do the job much better, interface directly with the computers and overriding them in case of emerging problems. No pilot fatigue or pilot error.”

“I certainly would not want my airplane to be without a pilot. What if something goes wrong, a situation that the machine isn’t programmed for?”

“Rohart, this is 2024 — this kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore. Today a person is safer in the sky than when standing safely on the ground. You are far more likely to be killed by your toaster. There is a smaller chance that the plane will break down than that the pilot will go insane.

“But there is one more market that I believe is much larger than all the others put together. It could be the largest, most important product in the world — with a market larger than the entire automotive industry, larger even than agriculture, entertainment or sports. The long-awaited personal robotic household servant. Which we are uniquely ready to supply.”

“I’m with you — and enthusiastic. I’ll put the suggestions to the board and discuss development.”

“Good.” Brian put the paper on the table. “I hope you will tell General Schorcht that. At the same time tell him I am doing nothing about developing any of those ideas.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. I’m still being treated as a prisoner. As a prisoner I protest and refuse to do any, work. No one can make me work — can they?”

“No, of course not.” Rohart looked worried. “But you are under contract—”

“Please remind the General of that as well. Help me pressure him, please. I want to do this work — I’m looking forward to it. But I won’t do a thing until I am a free human being again.”

Rohart left, shaking his head unhappily. “The board won’t like this either, you know.”

“Good. Tell them to take it up with the General. The decision is his now.”

This should stir things up, Brian thought. He slowly peeled and ate a banana, staring out the window at clouds and blue sky. Freedom. Not his, not yet. When the Chairman was safely away from the building, Brian strolled over to the lab, his guards still a few paces behind. Dr. Snaresbrook was just parking her car when he got there.

“Am I on time?” she asked.

“Perfect, Doc. Come on inside.”

She started to speak, but contained herself until the door had closed behind them. “Now, what’s the big mystery and hush-hush?”

“Just that. The lab here is the only place where I can have a conversation that isn’t bugged by the General.”

“You are sure that he is doing that?”

“I suspect that he is — which is good enough. Sven over there makes sure that this place is really free of electronic surveillance. It’s very good at it.”

“Good morning, Dr. Snaresbrook. I hope that you are keeping well.”

“Fine, Sven, nice of you to ask. You seem to be developing new social charms.”

“One must always seek perfection, Doctor.”

“Sure enough. Now, Brian — what’s the secret?”

“No secret. I am just completely teed off at being kept a prisoner. I told Rohart today that I would do no more work until my shackles were struck off.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes and no. Oh, I mean it all right, but it is just a smoke screen to hide my real plan. Which is that I am cracking out of here.”