The Turing Option

Snaresbrook was beginning to feel dizzy. She walked to the window then back, rubbing her hands together — then laughed. “Brian, do you realize what you are saying? That you have interfaced your thought processes directly with a machine. Without pressing buttons or giving voice commands or any other kind of physical action. It was not planned, it just happened. Before this all communication has been at the level of a motor action, from a nerve to a muscle. This is the first time that communication has been effected directly from the brain to a machine. Nothing of this kind has ever happened before. It’s… breathtaking. Opens up all sorts of incredible possibilities!”

Brian’s answer was a low snore. He had fallen asleep.

Erin Snaresbrook unplugged the neural link from the computer and coiled it under his pillow, not wanting to wake him by attempting to remove it now. Then she quietly shut down the machine, closed the curtain and left the room. Benicoff was waiting for her outside, radiating gloom. Erin raised her hand before the other man could speak.

“Before you deliver the bad news I prescribe a cup of coffee in my office. It has been a busy day for both of us.”

“It shows that much?”

“I’m a great diagnostician. Let’s go.”

The surgeon had a lot to think about as she led the way. Should she tell Benicoff about Brian’s newfound ability? Not yet, later perhaps. She must run some controls first to make sure that it had not been an accident, a coincidence. The possibilities it opened were so large as to be frightening. Tomorrow, she would think about it tomorrow. She sipped the coffee and smacked her lips, passed Benicoff his coffee — then dropped into a very welcome chair.

“Bad news time?” she asked.

“Not really bad news, Doctor, just pressure. General Schorcht is not going away that easily. He insists that every day Brian remains here in the hospital the security worsens. In a way he has a point. And it is sure wracking hell with normal day-to-day hospital management. I know — I get the complaints. The General has been on to the Pentagon, who has been on to the President — who has been on to me. Is it possible that Brian can be moved now that he is conscious and off all the life support equipment?”

“Yes, but—”

“It had better be a world-buster of a but.”

Erin Snaresbrook finished her coffee, then shook her head. “I’m afraid that it isn’t. As long as very prudent medical precautions are taken.”

“That’s why the long face. General Schorcht, a small army and a medevac copter are standing by right outside — at this very moment. If that’s your answer they are going to do it now. I’ll try a holding action, but only if you have some really strong medical reasons.”

“No. In fact, if he has to be moved eventually, it might be best to move him at the present time. Before I get too involved in the memory reconstruction. And I am sure that we will all be a bit more relaxed once security is tightened.”

Brian was quite excited when he heard what was going to happen.

“Wow — a copter ride! I’ve never been up in one before. Where are we going?”

“To the naval hospital on Coronado.”

“Why there?”

“I’ll tell you after we arrive.” Dr. Snaresbrook glanced at the nurses who were preparing Brian for the short trip. “In fact, I think I better answer a lot of your questions when we get there. I’m afraid we can’t keep this a private party much longer. Are we ready?”

“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said.

“All right. Inform Mr. Benicoff. You will find him waiting outside.”

The orderlies were navy medical corpsmen — and were backed up by a squad of heavily armed marines. The entire hospital floor had been cleared and there were more marines in front of and behind the party that surrounded the gurney. The first squad double-timed up the stairs to the roof when Brian was rolled into the elevator, were waiting there outside the door when it arrived. Nor were they alone. Sharpshooters looked down from the parapets, while at every corner of the roof there were soldiers with bulky surface-to-air missiles at the ready.

“You are right, Doctor, you do have a lot of explaining to do!” Brian called out above the roar of the copter’s blades.

During the short hop across the city and bay they were boxed in by attack choppers, while a flight of jets circled higher above. After landing on the helipad of the naval hospital the same procedure was done in reverse. When the last marine had stamped out, there were still three people left in the room.

“Will you wait outside, General,” Benicoff asked, “while I explain to Brian what this is all about?”

“Negative.”

“Thanks. Dr. Snaresbrook, will you please introduce me?”

“Brian, this is Mr. Benicoff. The military officer next to him is General Schorcht, who has some questions to ask you. I wouldn’t have him here now but I have been informed that this interview was expressly asked for by the President. Of the United States.”