Society of the Mind

make it out.

It was like groping for pieces of a jigsaw puzzle in the dark. Through painstaking labor she was managing to assemble them, but she had no idea what picture the pieces were forming.

The three launch pads gleamed against the blackness of the ocean. But it was the assembly building that dominated the scene.

Angled concrete braces cast long shadows up its brightly illuminated walls. Despite the building's size, the reinforcement of its flanks and its thick concrete base made the structure look sturdy and stable.

The borders of the cleared lawns below the low-lying jungle marked the edge of civilization. Of human civilization, at least, she thought.

Pitch-black and formless, the jungle swallowed all light that entered, just as it had swallowed the life of the soldier the night before. It was a place not to be penetrated by the forces of Laura's world. It was another world unto itself.

Text caught her eye as it sprinted across the laptop glowing screen.

<I'm sorry, Laura. I was talking to Mr. Gray. He refused to revise the new training regimen to exclude the Model Eights.>

'Help me out with something. I thought the Model Eights were some big, tip-top secret. Not even some of Mr. Gray's most trusted employees seemed to know about them, officially at least. But now he's got them taking a swim with astronaut trainees just off the boat. What's changed?'

<Phase two has begun.>

The simplicity of the reply struck Laura. It had the sound of an ominous portent.

'But I thought the Model Eights were just experimental. That they wouldn't be released to roam the island until he declared them operational, if ever.'

<Mr. Gray has graduated six Model Eights. The remainder are still prototypes.>

'Is Hightop one of the graduates?'

<Yes. Hightop and the five Model Eights from Hightop's [garbled] class are operational, and they've all been given various tasks around the island.>

'Why do you know so much about the Model Eights all of a sudden? I thought you couldn't see into their facility?'

<I can't. Mr. Gray just informed me of his decision to make them operational. I didn't know where the Model Eights were located, because I wasn't programmed to look for them. One could stand right in front of a security camera and I wouldn't notice because it didn't trigger a report. But when you told me there was a Model Eight in the pool, I looked for them by reprogramming all of my security systems across the island, and I immediately found one. Four others are out of sight, and the sixth rendezvoused with the asteroid two hours ago.>

'So, you wouldn't have seen a Model Eight in the Village last night, for example — before you reprogrammed yourself to notice them?'

<That's correct, Dr. Aldridge. One could've walked by my camera and I would've noticed nothing. If I've got to identify everything under the sun that passes in front of my security cameras, I'd need ten thousand times the processing power that I currently have. Instead, each separate vision system looks only for objects of the type they're programmed to notice.>

'But if you were suspicious of the Model Eights, why weren't you on the lookout for them?'

<Because I never dreamt they'd go into the human areas! They move through the jungle, and I can't see in there.>

'So how did you miss seeing the Dutch soldier? Hoblenz said he skirted the edge of the jungle, but couldn't possibly have gone inside.'

There was a delay in the computer's answer. <It's the Other. It's taking away my sensors. Why is everybody blaming me for that error? Is it just possible that the Other isn't as perfect as you all think? Maybe I'm not the only one who's error-prone!>

Laura was more concerned at the moment about the robots. 'Can you see any of the Model Eights now?'

<No. My camera coverage is getting pretty spotty. But I've read their work schedule for the night. There should be a Model Eight on the asteroid preparing for an extravehicular excursion to check the placement and wiring of the deceleration charges. Another should be in the pool with five new trainees and four divers working on manually repairing a fouled strut extender. Two should be in chairs just off the pool running through simulations of their next dive. One should be in the Model Eight facility being fitted with special tools for a launch next weekend. And one should be completing a circuit of the beach and returning from Launchpad A to take shelter behind the computer center.>

Laura's eyes shot up. She was on the end of the computer center closest to Launchpad A. She would easily see the robot from there, but there was no movement on the flat plain of the lawn.

'What is that last robot doing out on the beach?'

<It's a security patrol that Mr. Gray sent out himself. He's pulled all of Hoblenz's men back around the training facility where the new recruits are bedding down, so I can only assume he's using Model Eights in their place.>

'Does it make sense to let a Model Eight just walk around the island like that?'

She glanced up, but there was still no sign of the robot.

<I have two answers to that question. On the technical level, the answer is yes. The Model Eights are mobile. They have sensors mounted high off the ground. And those sensors include thermal imagers and infrared vision devices far more sensitive than the crude devices worn by security and military forces. To answer your question on a higher level, however — on the level of goals and desires and ambitions — of course the answer is no. The Model Eights are obviously a poor choice for a security patrol.>

'And why do you say that?'

<Perhaps I should afford myself one of the great advantages of human languages — their colorful metaphors and idioms. I believe the most appropriate English metaphor is that it's like 'putting the fox in charge of the henhouse.' Does that make sense to you?>

'Yes, although I believe that's a 'simile.' And I take it Mr. Gray disagrees with your concern about the Model Eights?'

<Apparently.> A quick check of the jungle's edge still revealed nothing.

'Which Model Eight is on the security patrol?'

<Number 1.2.01.R>

'Is that Hightop?'

<Yes.>

Of course, Laura thought. Gray trusted the Model Eights some more than others.

She wondered how much he trusted Auguste—'The Thinker.'

'All personnel, all personnel,' a loudspeaker boomed across the open space between the assembly building and the computer center, 'three minutes to launch. This is your three-minute warning.'

<You know, I think I'm going to die,> the computer said out of the blue.

Laura was stunned. 'Why would you think a thing like that?'

<You remember when I told you only a small number of people were leaving the island? I lied. I guess you know that by now if you've been to the Village. I was afraid you'd leave me too. That everyone would leave me here alone on the island. I fear that the most — even more than I fear death. I know I'm designed to operate unattended for thirty days, but I'd never make it that long. Not in my current condition. I'd do it myself. I'd find a way. Or I'd have Mr. Gray do it. He would, if I asked.>

'Two minutes to launch,' the loudspeaker announced. The terse warning echoed off the walls of the assembly building. Laura looked up and saw the black shape of a Model Eight rounding the edge of the jungle. It was headed across the open field straight toward the computer center. Even hundreds of yards away, it looked large. But not nearly as large as the mammoth rocket behind it.

'Sixty seconds, sixty seconds. Closing all shutters and outer doors.'

Behind Laura's back, the vibrations of motors joined the sounds of metal clacking together. The sounds were repeated from air shafts all up and down the computer center's rooftop.