Society of the Mind

idea always survives. The theories for which you've been ridiculed, once released into the belief system, can't be put back into the bottle. One day they'll sweep the weaker ideas away and be accepted as indisputable fact because they are the more persuasive, the more compelling.>

Laura was dumbfounded now.

Was it talking about the paper she'd presented in Houston? What could it possibly know about that bitter experience? And what were all of those bizarre analogies, autoimmune systems and antibodies?

She looked around the room, her eyes landing again on the small black lens by the door. She was alone, but she put a neutral expression on her face and rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder to relax her suddenly tense neck.

And why does he say that I'm brilliant? Laura wondered, then caught her mental slip of the tongue. 'It!' she said aloud — warning herself through clenched teeth not to let the praise of a clever computer program overinflate her fragile ego. 'It's a computer, Laura!' she mumbled while trying to sort things out.

'Okay,' she typed, 'back to basics. When a robot reports something to you, do you actually see what the robot saw, or just read a message?' She hit Enter.

There was no response. She waited a moment, then hit Enter again.

Still, there was no answer.

'Are you there?' she typed.

<I don't feel like talking anymore.>

Laura stared through bleary eyes at the screen, her head beginning to pound from the growing difficulty of the effort. Her shoulders were sore from all the typing, and she sat back and rubbed her eyes and then her temples. The fatigue hit her all at once, and she remembered that she still had to make the trek back up the mountain. And there was a breakfast meeting in six hours.

'All right,' she typed. 'I'll talk to you some more tomorrow. Good night.'

She hit Enter and waited. Again, there was no response. With a sigh Laura rose and headed out. The door slid into the wall, but she remembered that Margaret had turned the terminal on when they first came in. She returned to the desk to shut the power off.

<Sleep tight,> was printed out at the bottom of the screen.

15

Despite her late night, Laura rose early. She would feel terrible all day if she didn't get some exercise, so she decided to run before the 'team' met for breakfast.

She stood in front of a mirror — straightening her shoulders and tugging the Spandex running shorts and top into place. A wisp of hair dangled across her forehead, and she tucked the loose strand under the brightly colored headband she wore. She then changed her mind and spent a few moments pulling her bangs out over the elastic band.

Gray was nowhere to be seen when Laura wandered down the steps to the foyer. She even took a stroll around the relatively open public rooms on the first floor. The palace seemed to be empty.

'Good morning, Dr. Aldridge,' Janet said in a loud voice — nearly causing Laura to jump out of her skin.

'Morning, Janet,' Laura replied after quickly recovering — turning to the woman from where she stood peering into a darkened two-story library.

'Going for a jog, are we?'

'Yep,' Laura replied. Her embarrassment at having been caught snooping left her feeling awkward and inarticulate.

'Well, it's a lo-ovely morning to be outdoors. Have a good one.'

Janet smiled and headed off.

'Oh, Janet?' Laura called out. The woman turned and waited.

'Do you happen to know why I'm staying here? In Mr. Gray's house, I mean?'

Janet looked mortified. 'Is there some problem? There are plenty of other rooms if—'

'No, no. That's not what I mean at all.'

Janet sagged and rested her hand flat against her chest, greatly relieved. 'What I meant was, why was I put up in Mr. Gray's house instead of a hotel or something? Not that I want to move to a hotel,' Laura said, holding both hands up to forestall another overreaction. 'I was just, you know, curious who made the arrangements.'

'Well, as I recall,' Janet said, looking thoughtful, 'I got an E-mail. It informed me of your expected arrival, and directed that I put you up in the blue room.'

'But who sent the E-mail?'

'Why, Mr. Gray, I would imagine. Are you sure everything is all right?'

Laura nodded, already lost in thought. She thanked Janet, and they parted company — Laura heading for the front entrance with her shoes squeaking along the polished floor.

Gray had been surprised to learn she was staying at his house.

He might have been oblivious to the day-to-day details of his luxury, but surely he couldn't have completely forgotten adding a lone guest to his household for the week. No, Laura decided, Gray definitely didn't send that E- mail to Janet.

The computer, Laura realized with a start. It had made the arrangements. But why would the computer give her shock treatment?

Laura headed through the front door into the wonderfully crisp morning air. 'A driverless car — a Model Three robot — waited patiently at the bottom of the stone steps. Laura descended to the curb and began to stretch on the sidewalk in front of the car. The presence of the vehicle totally distracted Laura from her earlier thoughts.

The 'robot' just sat there, unmoving. It looked inanimate, but was it? The night before she had waited outside the computer center by the road, doing just as one of the operators had instructed.

'Stand right on the curb,' he'd said, 'so it can see that you want a car.' Laura hadn't asked who 'it' was, but after less than a minute her taxi had arrived. 'Mr. Gray's house' was all she'd said, and it had flashed her a 'Fasten Your Seat Belt' reminder. Once the belt was clasped, the robot had sped through the sleeping kingdom straight to the very spot where this car now sat.

Laura scanned the courtyard to confirm she was alone and then approached the car hesitantly. Buried amid the headlights, fog lamps, and turn signals along the molded front grill was the ubiquitous black marble — the eye of the computer. She scrutinized the car under the bright morning sun for any other distinguishing feature, but from the outside it looked fairly nondescript. Four doors, an aerodynamic but not racy body, a coat of off-white paint. She stopped beside the front door and looked inside. That was where it was different. All four seats were for passengers.

The door didn't open. Laura looked down and saw that her toes were right on the edge of the curb. She wondered whether the car was reserved or something — Gray's private limousine. Or maybe, she thought, the computer sees what I'm wearing and that I'm stretching and guesses that I'm going for a run.

'Going for a run, are we?' Janet had asked inside the house… out loud. Laura shook the thought from her head. The computer wasn't allowed to pry into private homes.

Laura looked up at the stucco walls, which formed a U around the spacious and thoroughly beautiful courtyard. The computer must be able to see her there. How else could the system work?

Laura decided to give the car a little test 'Excuse me,' she said quietly to the door.

Nothing happened.

She waved her hands in the air and said, 'Excuse me!' It had no effect on the car whatsoever.

She reached out and lightly knocked on the door's window. The door made a whooshing sound, and Laura jumped back.

The wing rose into the air, opening to allow her to enter. Laura checked the front steps and the verandas and windows at the front of the house. No one had seen her fooling around with Gray's robot.

She leaned inside the car and whispered, 'That's all right. Never mind.'