‘You just came to check the trend, right? Science is just like any other damned opinion poll, right? How many think Jupiter has moons? You think Galileo took a damned straw vote on it? Think he worked it up in a few histograms, tested the market reaction? Damn you, certain things are true, certain things are worth finding out, and it doesn’t matter what you or I or Dan or anybody else — So just go away, will you? Just go and, and vote the way
Rogers fumbled for the door-handle behind him. His smile was pulling slightly to one side. ‘You’re overwrought, tired. Maybe we can rap again some time, before the committee meeting. Some time when you’re more yourself.’ But he couldn’t resist an exit: ‘Some time when you’re not Galileo, I mean.’
The door was already closed when Fong’s bottle of Quink crashed against it. He sat quietly for some time, staring at the Permanent Blue splash from which a few dribbles worked their way down. A shape like that could be anything. Could be the silhouette of an old Bell transistor.
Before dawn the blizzard blew itself away. One or two constellations put in a brief appearance in the fading sky, though of course there was no helmsman on the stiff white sea below who could name them. The star-gazing had vanished from the earth, leaving only his name to be derived from Greek into
II
Men will live according to Nature since in most respects they are puppets, yet having a small part in the truth.
49 GOROD
‘A different black, and a different ping…’
RESET. 50 GOROD
‘Okay. Okay Dan, I’ve got it now. It’s a face, a face only with nobody inside. Is that possible?… Well, well, a face. What’s this in back, a string? Does it control — see I thought for a minute it was like another string puppet like you showed me last time only this is a loop — self-control? I don’t get it, could you turn it around again? Okay, I give up. A face with a loop of string in back, right? No answer… Why don’t you answer me? No answer… I could give myself no answer, that’s no answer. Neither is that. Neither is that…’
RESET. 51 GOROD
‘…face with nobody inside. The eyes are just holes! If I had a face like this I’d cut my throat. If I had a throat…’
RESET. 52 GOROD
‘Okay, the face. Whatever it is, I call it a face. White and black, mostly white. Hole-eyes. A black nose. The nose looks like a black ping-pong ball, does that make sense? Come to think of it, the ears — if they’re ears — on top look like two ping-pong paddles, also black. I call them Ping and Pong, and one day they were walking through the deep dark forest and…’
RESET. 53 GOROD
‘…But I don’t have a throat or anything because I’m not real, I’m just a, what you called a data construct, a, something that’s not even any place, a rough sketch you said, you could erase me any time. So this is like my face, nobody inside. Nobody by himself. He’s forgotten that he’s forgotten. Looking out these empty hole-eyes at the emptiness outside, there’s no, no…’
RESET. 54 GOROD
‘…when you told me this person Skinner, what he did with pigeons, taught them to play ping-pong, remember? And I asked you what playing was? If they make you do it, is it playing? And you said…’
RESET. 55 GOROD
‘Because conditioning leads to self-control, right? That’s the goal we’re… the ping we’re ponging towards, only only only how do I get self-control without a self? Otherwise it’s just a pigeon hitting the old ball out into the darkness, over and over and it never comes back… You don’t answer me, Dan. Okay, that’s because I’ve conditioned you not to answer. You’re the string puppet and I make all the decigeons. Decisions. That’s what I said. And that’s what I said. And that…’
3939 INTROSP TEST SW ENDS
Woopa! Dr Fred McGuffey’s sneeze went to join the Brownian dance of dust-motes in a sunbeam.
‘Pardod be. I seeb to be catchigg this flu bug that’s goigg aroudd. The Sprigg, you see, briggs all thiggs to life. The great Ptoleby called it the begiddigg of the Sud’s life cycle.
No hands went up; they were as sullen and silent as so many Mafia victims (Nobody knew nuttin’). He could talk himself blue in the face, he would never succeed in dinning even the simplest facts of Introductory Astrology into these young — these young robots. Day-dreaming girls who never heard the questions. Sneering boys who’d only enrolled in his class to grab an easy three credits. At times like these (10:48 and three seconds by Dr Fred’s pocket watch) he wondered if he hadn’t been born with a retrograde Mercury or something, talk about a failure to cobbudicate!
He blew his nose again. ‘Anyone? The sign of Spring?’ He knew what it was: these kids just couldn’t think for themselves. Couldn’t add 2 and 2 without the almighty computer. Dr Fred wouldn’t touch one of them machines with a ten-foot (3.048 metres, he recalled) pole. No sir, he worked every calculation out on paper for himself, so he could see what he was doing and have the satisfaction of doing it. Quality horoscopes with a human touch. Let all these young upstart astrologers fiddle with their computers — you couldn’t hardly call that astrology at all! No sir, when Dr Fred erected a horoscope, people knew it came from a human brain, and not from a doggone tinkertoy machine!
‘Aries,’ he said, putting disgust into it. ‘The Ram. I see I’d better go over this again on the board. Now the ecliptic…’ One young fool had actually asked him if
‘Sir, sir?’ The raised hand belonged to Lyle Tate, a young smart-alec with a hideous birthmark, mentality to match. Sniping, always sniping. ‘Sir, how come this Ptolemy doesn’t mention the Southern hemisphere? Because down there Aries can’t be a sign of
‘The great, the great Ptolemy, true, says nothing of the Southern hemisphere.’ Dr Fred coughed. ‘Why?
‘But—’
‘Kindly let me finish? You see, all great civilizations began North of the Equator. Babylon, Egypt, China,