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“Can I interrupt?” Benicoff asked.
“In two seconds. I went to make a copy of this in my computer. There.” She hit return and the item was instantly transferred to the data base in her own computer upstairs. The surgeon nodded and spun about in her chair. “I was talking to a friend in Russia this a.m., he told me about this. It’s in St. Petersburg, a student of Luria. Some very original work on nerve regeneration. What can I do for you?”
“General Schorcht keeps bugging me for more detailed reports. So I bug you.”
“Niet prahblem, as our Russian friends say. But what about your end? Progress there?”
“An absolute dead end. If there is a trail, and I doubt it, it gets colder every day. No hints, no clues, no idea of who did it or how they did it. I’m not supposed to know this, but the FBI has managed to get undercover data taps into every AI lab or department of every university, every major industry in the country, to report any sudden changes or input of new information. They are looking out for the AI data stolen from Brian. Of course the trouble is that they don’t exactly know what to look for.”
“Sounds sort of illegal, snooping like that.”
“It is. But I’ll put up with it for a short time before I blow the whistle on them. But that’s not what worries me. The real question is whether the security agencies have enough experts to interpret any or all of that data. We must get a lead. Which of course is why the General is bugging me.”
“Because the possibility that Brian may remember something, recover, respond in any way — is the only chance we have? Fascinating. I’ve read in bad novels ‘he nodded gloomily’ Now I know what it looks like because you just did it.”
“Gloomily, depressingly, suicidally — take your pick. And Brian?”
“Our progress has been good, but we are ru
“He’s getting worse, regressing!”
“Not that, you misunderstood. Modern medicine can stabilize a body, keep it alive for years when the mind is not in control. Physically, I could leave Brian in the recovery unit until he died of old age. I don’t think we want to do that. What I mean is that I have traced and reco
“Why are you working on his childhood — when it is the adult we need to answer our questions?”
“Because the old expression about the child being the father of the man is quite true. There is no way we can restore the higher level brain co
“When you say building a mind — built of what?”
“The mind is made of many small parts, each mindless by itself. We call these basic parts agents. Each agent by itself can only do some simple thing that needs no mind or thought at all. But when the agents get co
“Fortunately, most of the agents themselves are okay, because their brain cells are located in the uninjured gray matter. But most of the co
Benicoff shook his head in wonderment. “You are getting me used to thinking the unthinkable as a daily habit. What you are doing is so new, so different, that I find it basically — I’m sorry to say this — incomprehensible. That you can enter Brian’s head, listen to his thoughts and repair the damage done! Better you than me. Does he feel anything while you are doing this?”
Snaresbrook shrugged. “There is really no way to tell. I suppose the experience will be indescribable because it is happening to a mind that is not yet human. My personal belief, however, is that while his brain is being reconstructed his mind might very well be retracing and reliving the important early events of his life.”
Dolly could hear the clatter of computer keys as she came down the hall; she smiled. Brian was usually alone so much, it was nice to see him with a school friend.
“Anyone for a fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookie?” she said, holding out the plate. Kim squeaked with pleasure.
“Me for one, Mrs. Delaney. Thanks!”
“Brian?”
“Finish this first,” he muttered. “Come on, Kim. It would be a lot better if you did this before you take a break. You are just begi
“We can finish it later. Take one.”
Brian sighed and pushed one of the still-warm cookies into his mouth. “Good,” he spluttered.
“I’ll get some cold milk to go with that.”
When Dolly brought the tray with the filled glasses she had her purse with her. “I’ve got to go to the market and it is going to be crowded. Which means I’ll be late and your father will be upset if he gets in before I do. Tell him that di
Brian shook his head and drained the glass as Dolly left. He put it down and turned back to the computer. “Now to pick up where we left off.”
“No!” Kim said. “We’re taking a break, remember?” She pushed the books aside and dropped onto the bed, punched his pillow into a mound and settled it behind her back. “A break is a break — and you have to learn that.”
“Work is work and you have to learn that. Just look at your term paper, for instance.” He spun his revolving chair about and punched the scroll button. The copy flipped by in the screen, most of it white letters against red blocks. “Do you see all the red copy? You know what it means?”
“You had a nosebleed?”
“You ought to take this seriously, Kim. You know that I’ve been helping you with this paper for Bastard Betser, adding bits and straightening it out when you get it wrong. Just for the heck of it I wanted to check up on my input and started marking off the blocks of what I was doing in red, all the corrections and changes that I had made. There is sure a lot more red than white here.”
“There is a lot more to the world than AI. Since you are standing up, bring me over a cookie.”
“You’re going to flunk this course.” He got up and passed her the plate.
“Big deal. So maybe I flunk out of school altogether and marry a millionaire and travel around the world on my own yacht.”
“You talk big for a Redneck from the Rigs. I bet you’ve never even been ashore.”
“I have been around, leetle man, I have been around.” She licked the chocolate from her fingertips and half closed her eyes, spoke huskily in a fake French accent. “I have zeen zee world, have driven ziz prince mad with passion.”