The Turing Option

Before Brian could query him the MI was gone. There was a short queue at the window and he joined it. Asked about connecting trains to Belfast from Dublin, made sure that he was remembered by having the man consult the schedules on his terminal. Then he walked down the platform past the waiting train, then strolled back. He was sure that no one saw him slipping out of the station in the darkness. He walked through the rain past the row of cars parked at the curb, to the appointed spot.

Only Sven wasn’t there, the shop entrance damp, dark and empty. Had he gone far enough? Perhaps the next shop; empty as well.

“Over here,” Sven said through the open window of the nearest car. “The door is unlocked.” In shocked silence Brian climbed into the front seat. Sven started the engine, turned on the headlights and pulled smoothly out into the road. The MI had removed its head and extended its eyes, clutched the steering wheel in its multibranched grip.

“I didn’t know you could drive,” Brian said, realizing the inanity of his words even as he spoke them.

“I observed the driving operation in the taxi. While I was waiting for you I retrieved a driving simulator program that had been bundled with other files. I then programmed it into a powerful virtual reality. I ran this at teraflop speed enabling me in a few minutes to accumulate the equivalent of many years of driving experience.”

“I am filled with admiration. I am also almost afraid to ask where you got this motor.”

“Stole it of course.”

“That’s why I was afraid to ask.”

“Do not fear that we will be apprehended. I removed this vehicle from the locked premises of an auto dealer. Before they open in the morning we will no longer be driving this particular car.”

“We won’t? Where will we be? You don’t mind if I sort of know about the plan?”

“I detect from the phraseology that you are being sarcastic and I am sorry if I gave offense. When last we talked I had a number of options open. This one proved the most practical. If you approve we will now drive to Cork City. If you do not approve I will suggest alternative choices.”

“This one seems good so far. But why Cork?”

“Because it is a seaport with a daily ferry service to Swansea. Which is a city in Wales, which in turn is located on the largest of a group of islands called the British Isles. From there it is possible to drive on a motorway system to a tunnel that leads to the mainland of Europe. Switzerland is a country on that mainland.”

“All this without a passport?”

“I have studied the relevant data bases. The European Economic Community forms a customs union. A passport is needed to enter any member country from outside the community. After that there is no need to show it again. However, Switzerland is not a member of this group. I thought that this problem might be postponed until we reached that country’s border.”

Brian took a deep breath, watched the windscreen wipers slap back and forth, found it a little difficult to believe that this was really happening.

“Then as I read it — your plan is to steal and abandon a series of motorcars and drive from here to Switzerland?”

“That is correct.”

“You and I are going to have to have a long talk about morality and honesty sometime soon.”

“We already have done that, but I will be pleased to amplify our earlier discussions.”

Brian smiled into the darkness. It was happening all right. Sven would have had no problem unlocking a locked garage — or in jumping the car’s ignition. Once the MI had analyzed how the machine operated, driving it was obviously simplicity itself. He certainly had enough cash for fuel and ferry tickets.

“The ferry — it won’t work. I can see their faces now when you drive aboard, three glassy eyeballs staring out of the window. They’ll die of heart attacks!”

“I would not wish that to happen and my plan postulates that you will be driving the vehicle aboard the ferry. I will be in a box in the trunk. Which is referred to as a boot in this country, as I am sure you know.”

“But I don’t know how to drive.”

“That will not be a problem. I have in memory downloaded copies of your personal motor-coordination machinery. I also possess an adequate set of copies of your personal semantic networks and other knowledge representations. I will now teach them to drive.”

“How will that help me?”

“Transfer.” Sven remained motionless for several seconds, men reached out and touched one of his brashes to the terminals under Brian’s skin. “It is done. You may take the wheel.”

Sven stopped the car on the shoulder and got out. Brian took his place. Turned on the power and drove smoothly out onto the road.

“I can’t believe this. I’m driving without even thinking about it at all — as though I’d been doing it all my life.”