Watch

“AT T is reporting critical overload conditions,” said Dirk Kozak, the communications officer, holding a telephone handset to his chest. “They say if we don’t do something, that node will lock up totally.”

“It’s not going to give up without a fight, is it?” Tony said to Hume, who slammed his freckled right fist into his left palm. Tony turned and looked out at the vast room. “All right,” he shouted. “Abort! Abort! Abort!”

forty-four

Caitlin, her mother, her father, and Matt were all in the Decter living room. Schrodinger prowled. The big rectangle of the wall-mounted TV was off.

Caitlin’s dad was intimidating at all times, but particularly so when he was standing, looming over everyone else. “Who did you tell?” he demanded.

“Nobody,” said Matt.

Only anger, Caitlin knew, could make her father speak so much. “Come on, Matt! You’re the only person outside of this family, Masayuki, and Dr. Bloom in Israel who knows about the cellular automata. And none of us said a word.”

“I—um, I didn’t…”

“Who’ d you tell?”

“Nobody. Nobody. I promised Caitlin, and I keep my promises.”

The words He’s telling the truth flashed across Caitlin’s vision.

“He isn’t lying,” Caitlin said. “Webmind says so.”

“Then how’d the government find out?” her father replied sharply.

“I didn’t say a word,” Matt said. “Honest. But…”

“Yes?” snapped her father.

Matt lifted his shoulders. “I was curious. I wanted to know more.” His voice was cracking on every syllable. “And, well, I—”

“Oh, shit,” said Caitlin’s mom, getting it. “You googled it.”

Matt nodded.

“What search terms did you use?” demanded her father.

Matt’s voice was small. “It spiraled outward. I started with ‘cellular automata,’ and then ‘Conway’s Game of Life,’ and ‘Stephen Wolfram.’”

“Did you include the term ‘Webmind’ in any of your searches?” her dad asked.

“No! I’m not that stupid.” He took a breath. “But…”

A single word like a bullet: “Yes?”

“Well, you mentioned Roger Penrose, and so I did search on”—and his voice cracked again as he said it—“ ‘cellular automata consciousness.’ ”

“God,” said her father. “Anything else?”

Matt nodded meekly. “I also looked up ‘packets’ and ‘time to live’ and ‘hop counters.’ ”

“You might as well have shouted it to the world! Don’t you get it? We’re being watched—and not just by Webmind.”

“I thought Google would be secure.”

“Google might very well be secure,” her father said, “but your ISP isn’t. Anyone can watch the keywords you’re sending to Google.”

“I’m sorry, Caitlin. So, so sorry.” He looked into her eye. “Webmind, I’m so sorry.”

“Matt,” said Caitlin’s mom sternly, “if you’re going to be part of this, you have got to be more circumspect. You’ve got questions, you come to me or Caitlin’s dad, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to call me ma’am. ‘Dr. Decter’ will do.”

“Yes, Dr. Decter.”

Matt looked again at Caitlin—and at Webmind. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “I just wasn’t thinking.”

Caitlin held him in her gaze for ten seconds, then let a smile cross her face. “How can I be mad at anyone for being curious about cool math stuff?”

Matt looked relieved, and, for the first time in front of her parents, Caitlin reached out and took his hand.

“Today was only the beginning,” Caitlin’s mom said. “They’re going to try again.”

“What right have they got to do that?” Caitlin said. “It’s murder, for God’s sake!”

“Sweetheart…” her mom said.

“Isn’t it?” Caitlin demanded. She let go of Matt’s hand and paced in front of the coffee table. “Webmind is intelligent and alive. They have no right to decide on everyone’s behalf. They’re wielding control just because they think they’re entitled to, because they think they can get away with it. They’re behaving like… like…”

“Like Orwell’s Big Brother,” offered Matt.

Caitlin nodded emphatically. “Exactly!” She paused and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. After a moment, she said, “Well, then, I guess our work’s cut out for us. We’ll have to show them.”

“Show them what?” her mom asked.

She spread her arms as if it were obvious. “Why, that my Big Brother can take their Big Brother, of course.”

“The Georgia Zoo has dropped its lawsuit,” Dr. Marcuse announced excitedly, after reading the email that had just arrived.

“Really?” said Shoshana. “Yay!”

“Go us!” said Dillon.

“Yes,” said the Silverback. “They’ve dropped their custody claim. A full day of people boycotting the zoo was enough for them, it seems. Not to mention thousands of emails complaining about what they were planning to do. We were copied on 2,642 of them, and only God—or Webmind!—knows how many were sent that we weren’t copied on.”

“What about sterilizing Hobo?” asked Dillon.

“They’ve backed off on that, too. They still think it’s the right thing to do, but they’re acknowledging that they’ll never win the public-relations battle.”

“Power to the people,” Shoshana said, smiling.

“Amen to that,” replied Dillon.

“Let’s go tell him,” Marcuse said. He headed for the back door, and Shoshana and Dillon followed. They made the trip across the lawn, over the drawbridge, and onto the island. Hobo came running over to see them, and Shoshana scooped him up into a hug.

Hobo, Dr. Marcuse signed, good news!

Hobo looked at him expectantly.

You get to stay here, Marcuse said.

Hobo looked at Marcuse, then at Dillon, then at Shoshana, and then he let out a long, loud pant-hoot: a series of rapid, breathy, low-pitched hoots switching over to a chain of quicker, higher-pitched in-and-out pants, climaxing in a thunderous screech of joy.

Shoshana smiled. “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” she said.

My interacting with Caitlin had begun with her showing me Earth from space, letting me see an image like the one humanity had first glimpsed when Apollo 8 had orbited the moon and its crew had read Genesis back to “all of you on the Good Earth.”

Since then, my eyes have opened wider. I can now see on my own: see all the graphics stored online, see all the movies and videos that have been uploaded, see the Good Earth up close, through a hundred million webcam eyes.