The Turing Option

The computer bleeped and the fingers held the metal pad that held the fiber optic firmly in place against his skin. They rustled again as a strip of adhesive tape was picked up from the bench and passed along swiftly to the site on his neck, where it was pressed down firmly to secure the pad in place. Only then did the arms contract and move away. Snaresbrook nodded to the nurse and orderly, who withdrew.

“Now it begins. I want you to tell me anything you see or hear. Or smell.”

“Or think about or imagine or remember, right?”

“Perfectly correct. I’ll start here…” She made a slight adjustment and Brian shouted hoarsely.

“I can’t move! Turn it off! I’m paralyzed — !”

“There, it’s all right now. Did it clear up instantly?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I sure hope you won’t have to do that again.”

“I won’t — or rather the computer won’t. We have been trying to locate, identify and establish controls over the major low-level agencies in the brain stem. The system apparently shut off the whole cerebellum. Now that the computer knows — it won’t happen again. Are you ready to go on?”

“I guess so.”

At times there was warmth, then darkness. A chill that filled his entire body in an instant, vanished as quickly as it had come. Other sensations were impossible to describe, the functions of the mind and body at the completely subconscious level.

Once he shouted aloud.

“Are you in pain?” she asked, worried.

“No, really — the direct opposite. Don’t stop, please, you mustn’t.” His eyes were wide, staring at nothing, his body rigid. She did not hesitate to interrupt. He relaxed with a profound sigh. “Almost… hard, impossible to describe. Like pleasure squared, cubed. Please note the site.”

“It’s in the computer’s memory. But do you think it wise to repeat—”

“Quite the opposite. Stay away from there. Something like that, like a rat pressing a button to stimulate its pleasure centers until it dies of thirst and hunger. Stay away.”

Erin Snaresbrook was keeping track of the time and when an hour was up she stopped the session.

“I think that is enough for the first day. Tired?”

“Now that you mention it — the answer is yes. Are we getting anyplace?”

“I believe so. There is certainly a lot of data recorded.”

“Any matchups?”

“Some…” Snaresbrook hesitated. “Brian, if you’re not too tired I would like to go on a few minutes longer.’’

“I bet you want to try some new way to locate higher-level nemes?”

“Precisely.”

“Well I do too. Fire it up.”

If anything was happening Brian was certainly not aware of it. The answer was obvious when he thought about it. If the machine really was connecting bundles of nerves, reestablishing memories, there was really no reason for him to be aware of the process. Only when he made an attempt to recover those memories would it be obvious that they were there. Yet he was aware of something happening at a very remote level of consciousness. It was a transient thought that slipped away like an eel when he tried to approach it. This was annoying. Something was happening that he couldn’t quite grasp. And he was tired. Plus the fact that now he had noticed, it was like an itch he couldn’t quite grasp.

That’s enough, he thought.

“I think that we’ll stop for the day,” the doctor suddenly said. “It’s been a long session.”

“Sure.” Brian hesitated, but then decided why not. “Dr. Snaresbrook — can I ask you a question?”

“Of course. But just a second until I finish here — now, what is it?”

“Why did you decide to end the session at that moment?”

“Just a little difficulty. The control is very fine and this is all still experimental. There was an abort signal on one of the connections being established. I must admit this was the first time something like this has happened. I want to rerun the program to that point and find out why.”

“You won’t have to — I can tell you.”

Erin Snaresbrook looked up, startled, then smiled. “I doubt if you can. This wasn’t in your brain but in the CPU, or rather in the interaction of the implanted central processor and the one in the computer.”

“I know. I told it to shut down.”

The surgeon fought to keep her voice calm. “That’s hardly possible.”

“Why not? The CPU is on the chip implanted in my brain — and is interrelating with my brain. Is there any reason why there can’t be feedback?”

“None whatsoever — except to my knowledge it has never been done before!”

“There’s a first time for everything, Doc.”

“You must be right. It appears that while the computer was learning some of the connections in your brain, parts of your brain were learning some of the computer’s control signals.”