East waits too. The worst that can happen is if East: strikes first and West is destroyed (–1). So on balance, West loses by waiting. Now what is West’s best strategy?’
Roderick looked at the diagram. ‘Striking first?’
‘Exactly. And of course it is also East’s best strategy. Without doubt, both sides ought to strike first. But if they both do that, we get–’
‘The worst of all possible worlds?’
‘Precisely. It’s a dilemma[6] all right: if both sides make their best play, everybody loses. Utilitarianism has to clean up dilemmas like this before it can come to a complete calculus of morality.’ The panama hat-brim vibrated with feeling. ‘Sometimes I’d like to get the real East and West here in my office and give them real buttons to push. Then, by thunder, we’d see!’
When Roderick and his guide were leaving, the old man added, ‘Come back soon. I’ll show you what we’re doing with catastrophe theory…’
They moved on to the next office, where with the aid of more diagrams, a man explained his speculations about solar energy: He was working out ways of storing it in common plants, especially cucumbers.
Next, Roderick met a team planning to recycle sewage to provide not only methane and fertilizers, but intriguing new foods. One of them said:
‘Sure, it must sound crazy, but the fact is. the demand for junk foods and fast foods is rising exponentially. In a few years, the public will demand the right to eat pretty much anything. My only worry is, can we meet the challenge fast enough?’
In the next office a large group were contemplating possible wars, and no combination was too unlikely to be considered: a clash between the navies of Luxembourg and Paraguay, a parachute invasion of Finland by the Boobies of Fernando Po, Las Vegas bombed by Lapps.
Another office was concerned with future possible natural disasters and their implications. Suppose for example California suddenly sank into the waters of the Pacific — how would the national economy be affected by the loss of so many millionaires? With Hollywood gone, where would the Mafia next invest its money? What would be the cultural effect of TV drama without car chases?
Other offices were devoted to monitoring various ‘fringe’ sciences that ‘just might’ turn into worthwhile lines of enquiry: parapsychology, for example. A pipe-smoking parapsychologist explained.
‘The whole field is bursting with new ideas, new research projects. Professor Fether in Chicago has been testing precognition in hippos. The Russians have had a breakthrough on the ouija board to Lenin. The ghost labs of California seem to be doing some solid research… Others are breaking new ground too, testing the hypothesis that hypnagogic visions are real… a new thought-gun that shoots down UFOs, a Dutch psychic who produces rabbits out of a hat… Seems to be a new theory that if you stare at the back of someone’s neck, they’ll turn around and look at you, even in a crowd…’
While in the next office, astrologers were checking a British theory that all black persons were born under Libra, all subversives under Scorpio, all women under Capricorn.
Next came a conference room where a dozen persons smoked pipes or filed nails as they listened to a lecture on Jungian economics. The lecturer broke off to define a few basic principles for Roderick’s benefit:
‘Take market forces, for example: are they real? We see that, just as people’s belief in flying, saucers, so- called, made them really appear in the sky, so too people’s belief in a rising or falling stock market made it really rise or fall. Could “bear” and “bull” be ancient fertility and virility archetypes — Ursa Major and Taurus?’
Though Roderick was to visit only a handful of the five hundred offices at the Orinoco Institute, he met enough people to give him some grasp of the breadth and scope of this mighty academy. There were statisticians and climatologists, news reporters and military historians, oceanographers and Esperanto speakers, bioengineers and anthropologists, a mad gypsy fortune teller and a moping science-fiction writer, and even a psychologist who specialized in probing the minds of infants. All bets seemed to be covered.
At the end of the afternoon, he was allowed to sit in on a ‘brainstorming’ session in which higher-level futurologists tried to piece together all the findings of their subordinates. He understood a word or two, now and then:
‘Microwave mind control, could we do a restructuring of the update there in Scenario 6A?’
‘That’s your problem, I’m restructuring the input-output model of undersea city economies, I need some energy thoughts.’
‘What demand level? You in the tokamak range there?’
‘Yes, but… the multifold trend…’
‘Screw that! Listen, in the Afro-Asian socio-economic surprise-free framework…’
‘Come on, guys and dolls, let’s be macrohistorical here, okay? I mean even if India does start a bacteriological war, we can still project at least…’
‘I backgrounded the promethean satellite scenario for ten million kilowatts and up, but…’
‘…how head transplants might screw up the…’
‘…penological flexi-time? Only with broad-spectrum vaccines, where does that leave us?’
‘…synergy?’
‘Energy…’
‘…better update the restructuring of these pluralistic security communities, whatever you do.’
‘…integrated whale ranch cloning? Check that.’
‘…energy?’
‘But synergy…’
‘…and anyway, by then American cars’ll be running on sugar too.’
When the meeting broke up, some of the futurologists seemed angry, others very pleased with themselves. One of the smug ones, a tall young man wearing a blazer, came over to slap Roderick on the back.
‘So you’re the Entity! Great! Great to have you aboard!’ Thump, slap.
‘I — thank you — uh.’
‘What do you think of the old place so far? From an Entity point of view, it must seem kinda weird, eh?’
‘Well, I–’
‘Our friend here giving you the full tour?’ Thump. Roderick, speechless, stared at the crest on the blazer. It read
The guide said, ‘Yep, well in fact we’re on our way to a directors’ meeting now.’
‘Great. See you round, Entity. Hang loose.’ The heavy hand, poised for another slap, paused. ‘We can’t keep calling you Entity, you oughta have a name, you know?’
‘I know,’ said Roderick. ‘And I–’
‘Rusty. We’ll call you Rusty. Rusty Robot, not bad eh?’ The pummelling was renewed until Roderick’s guide led him away. ‘So long, Rusty!’
He was taken to a conference room where the air was milky blue with pipe-smoke. Along the green leather table, thin liver-spotted hands were passing papers, drumming with impatience, grasping the bowls of pipes. Reptilian eyes moved to study the newcomer, as the rustle of conversation slowly died away.
The chairman at the far end of the table put his hands on the green leather and pushed himself to his feet. The posture was amphibian; an old frog poised at the edge of a mossy dark pond.
‘This is our Entity member, ladies and gentlemen. We won’t bother with introductions if you don’t mind; there are so many items to get through today. So unless you have any questions, could you take your seat and familiarize yourself with the agenda? Good.’
Roderick slipped into a seat and stared without comprehension at the paper before him. He was aware of the eyes, shifting in their pouches of wrinkled skin to focus on him, but he could not look back at them. Only natural that they stared. He was a curiosity. Possibly edible.
1. General remarks, chair.
2. Dr Sheldon D’Eath’s report on robot medicine and allied subjects.
3. Large computer networks (e.g. Banking, Government, Military): How stable?
4. Wind-up of old projects and operations:
