boy, Wan, have failed to get clear answers from them on these questions. Even our machine intelligence has succeeded only poorly-though,” he said politely enough, “that is primarily because of the necessity to interface with the shipboard computer, Vera. They are poorly stored, Robin. They are obsessive, irrational and often incoherent.”
Behind me Essie was standing with the tray of coffee and cups-I had hardly heard the bell from the kitchen to say it was ready. “Ask him, Robin,” she commanded.
I did not pretend to misunderstand. “Hell,” I said, “all right, Sigfrid. That’s your line of work. How do we trick them into talking to us?”
Sigfrid smiled and unlaced his hands. “It is good to speak to you again, Robin,” he said. “I would like to compliment you on your very considerable progress since we spoke last-“
“Get on with it!”
“Of course, Robin. There is one possibility. The storage of the female prospector, Henrietta, seems rather complete, except for her one obsession, that is, with the unfaithfulness of her husband. I think that if a machine program were written from what we know of her husband’s personality and interfaced with her-“
“Make a fake husband for her?”
“Essentially, yes, Robin,” he nodded. “It wouldn’t have to be exact. Because the Dead Men in general are so poorly stored, any responses that were inappropriate might be overlooked. Of course, the program would be quite-“
“Stow it, Sigfrid. Can you write a program like that?”
“Yes. With help from your wife, yes.”
“And then how do we get it in contact with Henrietta?”
He looked sidewise at Albert. “I believe my colleague can help there.”
“Sure thing, Sigfrid,” Albert said cheerily, scratching one foot with the toe of the other. “One. Write the program, with ancillaries. Two. Read it into a PMAL-2 flip processor, with a gigabit fast-access memory and necessary slave units. Three. Put it in a Five and fire it off to Heechee Heaven. Then interface it with Henrietta and start the interrogation. I’d give that, oh, maybe a point-nine probability of working.”
I frowned. “Why ship all that machinery around?”
Patiently he said, “It’s c, Robin. The speed of light. Lacking an FTL radio, we have to ship the machine to where the job is.”
“The Herter-Hall computer has an FTL radio.”
“Too dumb, Robin. Too slow. And I haven’t told you the worst part. All that hardware is pretty big, you know. It would just about fill a Five. Which means it arrives naked and undefended at Heechee Heaven. And we don’t know who is going to meet it at the dock.”
Essie was sitting beside me again, looking beautiful and concerned, holding a cup of coffee. I took it automatically and swallowed a gulp. “You said ‘just about’,” I pointed out “Does that mean a pilot could go along?”
“‘Fraid not, Robin. There’s only room for about another hundred and fifty kilos.”
“I only weigh half that!” I felt Essie tense beside me. We were getting right down to it, now. I felt more clear- headed and sure of myself than in weeks. The paralysis of inaction was loosening every minute. I was aware of what I was saying, and very conscious of what it meant to Essie-and unwilling to stop.
“That’s true, Robin,” Albert conceded, “but do you want to get there dead? There’s food, water, air. Your round-trip standard allowance, with all provision for regeneration, comes to more than three hundred kilos, and there simply is not-“
“Cut it out, Albert,” I said. “You know as well as I do that we’re not talking about a round trip. We’re talking about, what was it? Twenty-two days. That was flight time for Henrietta. That’s all I need. Enough for twenty-two days. Then I’ll be on Heechee Heaven and it won’t matter.”
Sigfrid was looking very interested, but silent. Albert was looking concerned. He admitted, “Well, that’s true, Robin. But it’s quite a risk. There’s no margin for error at all.”
I shook my head. I was way ahead of him-way ahead, at any rate, of where he was willing to go by himself. “You said there’s a Five on the Moon that will accept that destination. Is there a what-do-you-call-it PMAL there too?”
“No, Robin,” he said, but added sadly, “However, there is one at Kourou, ready for shipment to Venus.”
“Thank you, Albert,” I said, half a snarl because it was like pulling teeth to get it out of him. And then I sat back and contemplated what had just been said.
I was not the only one who had been listening intently. Beside me Essie set down her coffee cup. “Polymath,” she commanded, “access and display Morton program, in interactive mode. Go ahead, Robin. Do what you must do.”
There was the sound of a door opening from the tank, and Morton walked in, shaking hands with Sigfrid and Albert as he glanced over his shoulder at me. He was accessing information as he stepped, and I could tell by his expression that he didn’t like what he was finding out. I didn’t care. I said, “Morton! There’s a PMAL-2 information processor at the launch base in Guiana. Buy it for me.”
He turned and confronted me. “Robin,” he said stubbornly, “I don’t think you realize how rapidly you’re eating into capital! This program is costing you over a thousand dollars a minute alone. I’ll have to sell stock-“
“Sell it!”
“Not only that. If you’re planning to ship yourself and that computer to Heechee Heaven-Don’t! Don’t even think of it! First place, Bover’s injunction still prevents it. Second place, if you should manage to get around that, you’d be liable to a contempt citation and damages that-“
“I didn’t ask you about that, Morton. Suppose I got Bover to lift his injunction. Could they stop me then?”
