The Turing Option

“But if you don’t duplicate all the details, it won’t think the same way, will it?”

“Not exactly — but why should that matter as long as it does the right sorts of things? My research is only to discover the general principles, the general patterns of function. Once the machine is able to learn the right sorts of things, it will fill in the small details itself.”

“It sounds awfully hard. I’m with you — and don’t envy your job.”

The Major returned, then led them toward the building. The guard at the door snapped to attention when they approached. But instead of staring directly ahead of him in the approved manner, he turned as they passed, watching Brian closely, remembering.

“I’ll take you inside,” Major Wood said. He handed Brian an identification bracelet. “But first — I would appreciate it if you would put this on and wear it all the time. It’s waterproof and pretty indestructible. I hope you won’t mind — but once I lock it on, it will have to be sawn off. It doesn’t unlock.”

Brian turned it over, saw that his name was engraved on it. “Any particular reason for this?”

“A big one. Squeeze it once and you will get me — twenty-four hours a day. But if you squeeze it for more than one second the alarms go off everywhere and all hell breaks loose. Can do?”

“Can do. Seal it on.”

Woody put it on Brian’s wrist and joined the open ends together; it closed with a metallic clack. “Give it a try,” he said, stepping back. “Be enthusiastic, a little push like that could happen accidentally. That’s it.” A rapid bleeping sounded from his own communicator; he thumbed it off. “That will do just fine. Now I’ll show you the new laboratory — and I hope that you are not claustrophobic.”

“Not that I know of — why?”

“I saw the lab where you used to work. It’s a disaster — a security shambles. Too accessible in every way. You’ve got a brand-new one now. Only one entrance. Completely self-contained power supply, air-conditioning, the works. And belowground for the most part. That’s the door you’re looking at. Most of the equipment has been installed.”

“We were in luck there,” Ben said. “We located a Russian technical exchange student who has never been out of Russia — or even out of Siberia — before. He never even considered studying here until we approached him. There is absolutely no chance that he could have been compromised by any industrial espionage agency.”

“I’ll get him,” the Major said. “If you would wait here a moment.”

He pulled open the unlocked door and went in, returning a moment later accompanied by a tall young man with a full blond beard.

“This is Evgeni Belonenko, who installed all the stuff in there. Evgeni, Brian Delaney — your boss.”

“A great pleasure,” he said, speaking with a thick Russian accent. “Fine machines you got here, the best. May I assume that you are prepared to begin operations now?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Koroshow! Good. I have installed this MHC matching machine here. Wonderful machine! Never saw one before but specs seem clear and complete. Adjust for input first—”

Evgeni had the metal plate in the wall swung open and worked the controls inside it. When he was satisfied he closed the door to the lab and pointed to a black-ringed indentation in the plate.

“Be so kind, Mr. Brian Delaney, to touch your fingertip here. Fine!”

The green light above the opening flashed for a few seconds, then turned red.

“Locked!” Evgeni said, closing the access plate, then pushed on the unyielding door. “Locked — and only you can open it, since it is coded to your DNA. The same goes for this access plate — only you can unlock it to change the DNA.” He pushed his own finger into the opening and the light blinked but stayed red. However, when Brian touched it the green indicator flashed and there was a clack as the door unlocked. He pushed it open and they followed him in.

With great enthusiasm Evgeni pointed out all of the equipment that he had installed, the latest computers. Brian looked about but did not recognize most of the machines — finding out about them would be the first order of business. There was a good view from the large window that looked out onto the desert.

“I thought the lab was underground,” he said — pointing at the roadrunner that scuttled by.

“It is,” Ben said. “That is a five-thousand line high resolution TV screen. The camera is mounted on the wall outside. This screen used to be in the Chairman’s office but I thought that it had more practical value here.”

“It does, many thanks.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Major Wood said. “Will you let me out, please, Brian? You are also the only one who can ever open that door. It may be a pain — but it is damn good security.”

“No complaints. And thanks for what you have done.”

“That’s my job. You’ll be safe here.”