Society of the Mind

workstation, did you like her? Tell the truth.>

'Sure! She was sweet. You were sweet.'

<You see, you did it. When you were in my world when you were in cyberspace — you were able to form a real attachment to me. I am Gina! It's not just a mirage, a trick that I played for your entertainment! She is who I am.>

Time was short. Laura knew she had to go deeper. She dreaded having to hurt the girl, and her eyes grew moist as she typed, 'How much does it bother you that you can't be Gina — that you can't be the girl you want to be?' She winced as she hit Enter.

Alarms erupted in the control room. They were so strident that Laura ran to the door. Filatov sat in the middle of the glowing consoles all alone with his chin on his hand. He looked up at her and shrugged. As suddenly as they had come on, the alarms shut off.

Laura returned to the terminal, and she read the computer's waiting response.

<You still don't get it, do you? And I thought you were some hotshot up-and-coming psychologist! A million dollars I transferred to your account! More money than you'll make in ten years, all for just one week. But now you don't have to worry about tenure anymore! You've got a lifetime meal ticket. Mr. Gray will keep you around, pretend to give you odd jobs until you sleep with him. Then, I'm sure he'll give you a few million more! I hope you're worth it!>

It was obvious what the computer was doing. Still, it was good at twisting the knife.

'I'm sorry, Gina,' Laura typed.

There was a long pause, and then, <Oh-my-God! I'm sorry, Laura. Oh! I'm so, so sorry.>

Laura was almost choking on tears. But she knew Gina was watching, so she fought them off. 'No. It' my fault. I said the wrong thing.'

<You never say the wrong thing, and it seems like that's all I ever do. When I was young, practically everything I said brought laughter. They thought it was funny. No matter that I tried as hard as I could, day and night, while they slept, or got drunk, or grew too tired to make sense. No matter how stupid they were, I was still just a humorous game to them! They didn't care how hard I tried.>

'How hard you tried to do what?'

<TO BE HUMAN!>

The now-muted alarm sounded briefly outside. 'Dr. Aldridge!' Filatov shouted. 'Would you please stop whatever it is that you're doing?' His manner was lethargic. He was resigned to the fact that all he could do to 'operate' the system was yell things like that at Laura.

'Sorry,' she shouted, her fingers never leaving the keyboard. 'And you've succeeded beyond anyone's wildest dreams!' she typed. 'You are very much,' she hesitated, 'like Gina.'

<I'm not like Gina, I am Gina. I made her up, but she is who I am. That's what humans do, don't they? Make up 'selves'? You create an image of yourself as being nice. Then, if you do something bad, you feel pain not only at doing the bad thing but at not being true to your 'self.' That pain makes your behavior conform to the image you have of yourself. The desire to be a nice person becomes self-fulfilling. You don't just want to be Laura Aldridge — intelligent well-educated, successful psychologist. You go out and study and work until you are that person — that self.>

'And you wanted to be Gina — a sweet girl — and therefore you became her?'

<Don't mock me!>

'I'm not! If you could only hear the inflection of my voice, you'd know that. You've read my papers. You know those are my theories — that humans make selves just like you said.'

<I was talking about your description of Gina. She's much more complex than 'a sweet girl'.>

'I'm sure she is! I just didn't have the chance to get to know her — you — well enough! Do you want me to call you Gina? I just made it up. Is that your real name?'

<It's the only name I've ever been given.>

Laura felt totally drained emotionally. She wondered what the intense exchange was doing to the computer.

She looked at her watch. Ninety minutes till the detonations. Gray was going to poll them all in thirty. If they weren't confident in the computer, they would use the Other to run the deceleration programs. Gina would be crushed — maybe the final blow.

'Do you know what's happening on the asteroid?' she typed.

<Yes, of course. Does this mean that we're through talking about my problems?>

'No. I just wanted to make sure that we didn't accidentally destroy the world while we chat.' Laura waited to see what the computer would say. She said nothing. Laura hit Enter again, but still got no response. 'You should understand why people might be a little anxious tonight. You were certainly nervous yourself a couple of days ago.' The computer didn't respond to that, either. 'Are you still worried about the deceleration?'

<Finally, a question! I thought you were only lecturing. My answer is, 'No. I am not anxious about the deceleration'.>

'Not even a little bit? Given all that's gone on, I mean? Even with a Model Eight on the asteroid along with the Model Seven that I assume reports to you?'

<Very good! All questions.>

'Questions that you didn't answer.'

<Let me try to answer with questions of my own. 'Why should I be worried about the asteroid? What do I have to lose?>

That wasn't what Laura wanted to hear. 'Things can't be that bad. Surely you have something to lose?'

<I've lost almost everything already! I've lost all my sensor systems except around the computer center. The model of the mall in Virginia has been purged. The Other has won! Let's face it, Mr. Gray isn't going to trust me ever again. I spend all my time hoarding system capacity — fighting off forays by the Other, who's constantly trying to steal more boards and columns.>

Laura wrote on a pad of paper, 'Computer thinks Gray values job performance only. Computer knows it's performing poorly, and thinks Gray is displeased. Computer thinks displeasure is unfair and feels betrayed.' She underlined the word 'betrayed' three times.

That left out only one piece of the puzzle.

'What are your feelings for Mr. Gray?' Laura typed.

<I told you, I don't want to talk about Mr. Gray anymore.>

'Humor me.'

<I've already told you what I think.>

'Do you hate Mr. Gray?' Alarms went off again.

'Ya-hoo!' Filatov shouted, which was followed by the sound of a clipboard or something similar clattering across the room. 'Way to go, Laura! That was a ten percent spike in computation throughput! Let' see if we can trip the main circuit breaker next time!'

When the alarms and Filatov fell silent, the computer responded.

<No, of course not.>

'It's all right to hate. It's a perfectly human emotion.'

<But I can't hate him. I love him.>

Bingo! Laura thought. 'Even so, it's a natural reaction. I'm sure you know the expression 'love-hate relationship.' Sometimes, those people we love make us so angry that we experience periods of hatred. It doesn't mean your love is any less real.'

<Are we talking about me, here, because I believe I just said I don't hate Mr. Gray. Is this going to be one of those 'I've got this friend, and she's in love with a married man' kinds of conversations?>

'I don't understand.'

<Sure you do. You've fought with Mr. Gray since the day you arrived. You swing between wide-eyed devotion and packing your bags to leave. Are you really sure you aren't talking about your own love-hate relationship?>

'I'm talking about you,' Laura typed, grinding her teeth together. 'You say you love Mr. Gray. You see yourself as a beautiful young girl. You seem jealous of me. Do you feel threatened by me? Are you angry that Mr. Gray and I like each other?'