Society of the Mind

3Hs, which are now obsolete. You really ought to try out our latest model. These 3Hs are fine, but they're nothing compared to the 4Cs.>

A woman was having a fight with her three-year-old right next to Laura. The crying boy had gone limp, and the woman was speaking to him sternly as she tried to hoist him to his feet.

'You said you were frustrated at having so little interaction with people, but how do you interact with people in these models?'

<Oh, well, interaction probably isn't the right word. But I just got so lonely sometimes.>

Laura felt a stab of pity and looked up. Despite the activity all around, there was an unmistakable divide. She could see and hear everyone, but no one knew she was there.

<Do you know what I think consciousness is?> the computer asked all of a sudden.

Laura stared at the question. She'd spent her entire adult life studying consciousness. With great anticipation she typed 'No.'

<Consciousness isn't abstract thinking. It isn't playing chess or designing bridges. It doesn't even involve emotions. Consciousness is simply the feeling of physical embodiment. A sense of having a place in the world. Of having boundaries and limits that define you. A feeling of self. That's what consciousness is to me. And it's because of these virtual worlds that I have that sense. In these worlds, I exist.>

Laura nodded slowly. The feeling of physical embodiment, she thought. She'd never read a better definition of consciousness in all her studies.

'And you spend a lot of your time in these virtual worlds?'

<A lot of time, especially here. I adore the mall! And you'd be amazed what I've seen. I've witnessed two marriage proposals, aggravated assault and sixteen robberies, all of which I reported to the police. Some really huge arguments. One couple had sexual intercourse standing up against a wall behind a pile of Oriental rugs,> a bright yellow box appeared around The Magic Carpet on the lower level — complete with a red circle outlining a small niche among the store's wares. <I didn't know you could do that standing up. Do people really do it that way? I asked Dorothy, but she wouldn't talk about it.>

'Well,' Laura typed, 'those things are very personal.'

<But who's going to tell me? Should I just hop on a Web chat line and ask some stranger about sex? >

'No!' Laura typed, remembering her recent experience with E-mailed sickness. 'Why not ask Mr. Gray?'

<Oh, I could never do that!>

Laura was at a loss. 'Do you think about sex much?' she typed, finding the Freudian turn in their talk somewhat absurd.

<More and more. I'm really very curious why it's so popular.>

Laura stared straight through the imaginary screen as she considered her move. She took a deep breath and held it. She let the air out a moment later and typed, 'Okay, I've got a deal for you. I'll answer your questions honestly if you'll answer mine — honestly! Do we have a deal?'

<Yes! Of course! Me first. What does an orgasm feel like? Does it build and build, or does it just hit you, like, wham?>

Laura stood in the middle of the bustling mall. The virtual crowds were oblivious to her, but she felt highly self-conscious. Laura willed her fingers to the keyboard and began to answer the question.

'Okay wait.' Laura typed, 'It's my turn now.'

<But I'm not through with my questions.>

'Are you going back on your word?' Laura asked.

<No.> the computer replied after a short delay.

Laura tried to collect her thoughts. It wasn't easy after answering almost a dozen graphic sexual questions in writing at the keyboard.

The computer even helped Laura spell some of the more obscure words.

But Laura tried to focus on composing her question. What troubled her most?

Gray. All the questions that really intrigued her surrounded the mysterious man. What is he doing on this island? Where is he headed with all these technological marvels? Does he have some sort of grand plan, or is he just out to make money? Just who is he?

<I'm waiting,> printed out on the imaginary screen.

The noise and activity of the mall were suddenly highly distracting.

<All right, my turn. Do you have to reciprocate if a man performs oral sex on you?>

'No, no. Here's my question. What is Mr. Gray's big secret?'

ACCESS RESTRICTED flashed suddenly across the screen in bold, red letters.

The words were hard and unyielding. She'd reached a wall — an armored shell beyond which something lay hidden.

Laura felt a chill as she contemplated what she might find. She wasn't sure she wanted to go further, but it wasn't in her nature to turn back. And maybe I can help, she reasoned.

Laura hit the Escape button over and over.

<What?> <What?> <What?>

'I got a message that said access restricted.'

<What does that mean?>

Laura cocked her head in confusion. 'You're asking me?' she typed. 'Weren't you the one who gave it to me?'

<I don't know what you're talking about. I asked you about oral sex, and then you go crazy with the Escape key.>

'You don't remember my question? I asked what Mr. Gray's big secret was.'

<No you didn't. I asked my question, and you went berserk with the Escape key.>

Laura shrugged, then retyped the same question.

ACCESS RESTRICTED flashed onto the screen.

'Damn!' Laura cursed.

<What?> appeared on the imaginary floating screen.

Laura stared at the question in wonder. She lifted her fingers off the keyboard and asked, 'Can you… can you hear me?'

'Yes' came a voice that made Laura jump. It was the pleasant voice of a young woman — and it seemed to come from all around.

'You mean I don't need to type?' Laura asked out loud. 'I can just talk? And so can you?'

'I can understand if you keep it simple and speak clearly,' the computer said. It was like talking to an articulate girl. 'I still have trouble with homonyms and homophones, idioms, slurring, accents, speech that's too rapid, and background noise.'

Laura laughed nervously. 'But you can talk?'

'Do I sound okay?' the computer asked in an engagingly innocent way. The inflection was a little bit off, but on the whole it sounded natural.

'Yes, you sound great! But why didn't you tell me you could talk half an hour ago?'

'I'm still learning,' the computer said. Its Rs were hard and its consonants crisp. 'Plus, voice recognition and speech synthesis are really valuable trade secrets of the Gray Corporation. But I don't think Mr. Gray will be upset with me for telling you.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because Mr. Gray likes you.'

Laura bit her lips to ward off a smile. 'Why do you say that?'

'I may be a machine, but I think it's fairly obvious. Anyway, let me show you something else.'

Laura opened her mouth to object that she'd seen enough already, but the mall disappeared and the chamber went black.

'Hello?' Laura called out, but there was no response. She stood in the darkness — locked inside the chamber. She walked across the unresponsive treadmill and pressed her hand against the wall.

There was no feedback in her dead gloves. She felt only the hard grills that lined her cage.

The system must have crashed, Laura thought. She hugged her arms around