An xt called stanley, p.10
An XT Called Stanley, page 10
“Stop!” Max called out. Everybody looked at him.
“See, he’s even got you talking. Stanley’s reached the point where he can talk anybody out of anything. But not me. You all seem to have forgotten that I had Stanley built. I had him instructed in our language. I created him. And what has he given us?”
“Max, if you would let me talk to people, I could in time earn enough to pay you back.”
“He’s got you there,” Tom spoke up.
Max didn’t say anything. For a moment the only sound was that of air being pulled into the ventilation ducts.
“I’m sorry to have to do this, but leaders sometimes have to take hard decisions. Stanley, until you give us some useful information on the fusion drive project you’ll have no contact with anyone. Not even us, so don’t think you can talk Bob or Tom into siding with you. Now, here’s a report of the work that’s been done.”
“Good,” Stanley said, getting up from his couch. He walked over to the corner of the room and picked up a set of golf clubs which must have materialized at some point in the conversation.
“I’m going on vacation,” Stanley announced. He opened the door of his living room, revealing a sunlit golf course. Right outside the door was an electric cart in which Stanley put his clubs.
“I’ll be back when Sister Taylor tells me that I am free to talk to the people of New Hope.” With that, Stanley went out the door and shut it behind him.
Tom laughed. “You’ve got to admit he’s got class.”
“Be quiet,” Max said. “He can still hear you.”
“Look,” Max continued, “if you don’t cooperate we may be forced to erase your memory.”
With that the room was filled with clicks and whistles. Stanley’s living room dissolved and there appeared a green and yellow mosaic pattern across the wall. Stanley had reverted to the way he was when he was first born.
“I’m serious,” Max yelled. But nothing any of us did or said made any difference. The super brain paid no attention.
From the Steward Interviews
Skrip: When did you first suspect that the alien brain posed a threat to our civilization?
Dr. Steward: I was aware of the potential danger from the very beginning. One has only to observe the competition among species of plants and animals in our own world to see that the natural condition of all life is one of strife. The struggle for domination is readily apparent on Earth. Why should it be different in the case of interstellar contact?
Skrip: If the danger was apparent from the first, why did the situation get out of hand?
Dr. Steward: You may recall I wasn’t in charge of the project. Dr. Stanton believed that the alien brain would give us scientific information that would be of great benefit to mankind. I think that his hopes for benefitting mankind blinded him to the real motives of the alien brain. I should point out the alien brain was very intelligent. It could fool an ordinary person into thinking it was human. Most of the people who worked with the alien brain fell under its power.
Skrip: Excuse me, Dr. Steward, but the phrase “fell under its power” sounds awfully melodramatic. What happened to these people? Did they start walking around like zombies, or what?
Dr. Steward: No, I don’t want to suggest anything melodramatic. It was nothing like the typical horror movie where people walk around in some sort of trance. No, these people seemed unchanged to the casual observer. The alien brain worked on them at the subconscious level. In layman terms, it took control of them without their knowledge. These people thought they were doing what they wanted to do when they were actually under the brain’s control.
“Let’s take level one,” I said to Jean after dinner. I wanted to tell her what had happened. The woods on New Hope’s top level with trees of glass are more pleasant to walk in but after dark they’re filled with couples, mostly prols who have no apartment in which to be alone together. Level one is quite deserted. The ceilings glow as brightly as on other levels but for the benefit of very few. New Hope’s planners had expected level one to be thronged with businesses eager to operate in space, but so far level one was unoccupied.
“It’s been a great day,” I began. “Max almost fired me for giving Stanley a library card. Roger’s afraid that now Stanley is dangerous.”
“Really?” Jean answered.
There was the sound of an approaching roller skater coming along the corridor. First we saw the skater’s feet come into view 60 meters down the corridor and then the skater’s knees and finally his head. The clunk of his metal wheels on the black glass floor echoed along the deserted corridor. We nodded at him as he passed.
“I haven’t told you the best part,” I said, when he was safely by us. “Max threatened to erase Stanley’s memory if he doesn’t cooperate with him.”
“Wouldn’t that destroy him?” Jean said.
“That’s the idea.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I’ve had it with Max. If he’s going to be such a jerk he shouldn’t be allowed to run this project. I’m going to call Dr. French.”
Jean didn’t say anything.
“Don’t you think I should?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t go to French.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think he’ll be any help. He and Max have been at each other’s throat for years. I think each of them would destroy Stanley rather than let the other have him.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? Sit idly by and let Max erase Stanley’s memory?”
“That’s crazy,” Jean said. “We’d only have to teach him over again and I’m sure as hell not going to help. And neither will anyone else. Tell Max that,” Jean said fiercely. “Tell him that if he erases Stanley’s memory not one of us will lift a finger to help him.”
“He’ll just get someone else.”
“There’re ten of us. We can make things pretty uncomfortable. If we go to Carl Schwartz…”
“Carl will just say he can’t interfere.”
“All right,” Jean said. “Don’t do anything.”
“Look, damn it all, you don’t have a job on the line. You’re just a secretary. My whole career’s at stake. If I get fired no one will hire me.”
“Well, keep your precious job.”
“What the hell do you know,” I yelled. “You’re just a secretary. You don’t know the first thing about…”
Jean turned and walked away leaving me alone in the corridors of level one. I found I was lost. Jean knew her way around New Hope so well that whenever I went anywhere with her I followed without paying attention. I had to take an elevator to the outside to get my bearings.
That night I lay awake debating the endless possibilities. By morning I was so exhausted that I no longer cared if I got fired. Max could stuff it as far as I was concerned except I hoped somehow I might not have to tell him.
At the Institute I checked the computer room in hopes that Stanley had relented and made peace with Max. But the room was silent. The wall-sized view screen was blank. I opened the black cabinet containing the central processing unit for the super brain. It was cycling at sixty times a second.
“Are you mulling over all those books you took out of the library?” I asked. I knew Stanley could hear me.
“Well,” I said, “I’m going to resign if Max doesn’t drop this childish threat to erase your memory.”
There was no response. There was no noise except the sound of air being pulled into the ventilation system.
“You don’t have to applaud, I’ll probably get fired anyway. But enough is enough. I’ve had it with Max,” I said, working myself up. The door to the computer room opened. For a second I was afraid it was Max, but it was Jean.
“Bob,” she said and came over to me. In a moment we were in each other’s arms. I told her what I had decided.
“I’ll resign with you. I know it doesn’t mean much for a secretary to resign, but I will.”
“Please,” I said. “I said I was sorry.”
She hugged me and I kissed her.
When Max came in I went to his office.
“Just the man I want to see,” he said cheerfully. “Bob, I need your help. I’ve thought it over and Stanley has a point. from his point of view, there’s no telling whose hands he may have fallen into. For all he knows we could be a bunch of Nazis. He simply wants to check us out. Is that so unreasonable?” Max was arguing with me as though I had been the one oppressing Stanley.
“So I’ve arranged for him to have two phone lines. He can call anybody and talk as long as he wants. I’ve explained it all to him but he won’t respond. I know he can hear me. I’ve given him everything. What more does he want?”
“I think he said that he wanted Sister Taylor to tell him that he can talk to the people of New Hope.”
“He can. I’ve told him.”
“I guess Sister Taylor has to tell him.”
“What is he—some kind of prima donna?”
“I’m not saying it’s right. You asked me what I thought.”
“All right, Bob, but you see how unreasonable he is.”
I sighed.
“Bob, would you call Sister Taylor and get her over here?”
“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks a lot.”
“I’d call her myself, but I think you might have more luck. Now, be careful what you tell her.”
I nodded, but I figured that if I had to call I could tell her what I damn well pleased. Sister listened quietly before stating her conditions. She insisted that she and all of Stanley’s tutors have unquestioned access to Stanley and she wanted it in writing.
“O.K.,” I sighed. “I’ll talk to Max.”
Somehow I had gotten the thankless task of negotiating between Sister and Max. Each of them held me responsible for the other’s unreasonableness. Finally it was agreed that Sister Taylor would be given written authorization, granting her access to the computer room for the duration of the project and there was an informal understanding that all of Stanley’s tutors would have access to him. I told Sister that Stanley had been given two phone lines for the purpose of talking to the people of New Hope. The calls he made would be monitored and he would be limited to New Hope. Under no circumstances could Stanley make outside calls. “All right,” Sister agreed at last. “I’ll come over and talk to Stanley.” Max, Tom and I waited in the computer room for Sister Taylor.
“All your conditions have been met,” Max announced. “Sister Taylor is coming over to tell you in person.”
There was no response from Stanley.
“Where’s Roger?” I asked.
“He’s not in on this,” Max said.
I looked at Tom for an explanation. “Roger wouldn’t approve of us letting Stanley loose on New Hope,” Tom said.
“That’s his opinion,” Max said. “He’s entitled to it. But this time we’re going along with Bob. You think Stanley should be allowed to talk to a few people,” Max said looking at me.
I nodded.
“Now, Bob, we have to handle this with care. If some people found out that we were letting Stanley talk to people they might create a lot of flak.”
“Not to mention the fact that the Federal Security Agency hasn’t been informed,” Tom added with a smile.
Max exploded. “If they insist on meddling in every decision they can get someone else to run this project.”
“But Tom does have a point,” Max added after a pause. “We should keep this quiet. Especially Roger, he has a bureaucratic streak. He shouldn’t learn of this. No one should. So don’t go telling Jean.” Max waited for me to answer. He had annoyed me to the point that I waited a full second before nodding agreement.
Max turned toward the front of the room. “See,” Max announced to the dark view screen, “I’ve gone out on a limb so that you can have your way. So give your father a break.”
There was no response.
A minute later Sister Taylor arrived. The moment she arrived Stanley materialized sitting on the couch in his living room. He had redecorated during his absence. Now the walls were lined with books, more paper books than there were in the rest of New Hope.
“Hi, Sister,” Stanley said. He nodded to the rest of us. “I’ve been doing some reading,” he said, standing up and gesturing toward the wall of books behind him. “I’ve been studying the Bible.”
Sister looked pleased.
“Do you believe it?” Max asked.
“Believe it?” Stanley echoed.
“Do you believe that every word is true?”
“I don’t understand why you’re asking this.”
“That a boy!” Tom said. “Don’t let Max drag you into a theological debate.”
“Do you believe in God?” Max asked, not to be put off.
“Yes,” Stanley answered, looking straight at Max.
“Stanley,” Max said in utter disbelief, “surely you don’t believe that nonsense. You’re from an advanced civilization.”
“I knew Stanley would say that,” Sister said in triumph.
“You did this!” Max said, turning to Sister.
“I can’t claim all the credit,” she answered.
“I should have spent more time with you,” Max said, looking at Stanley.
Tom laughed. “Young computers are so impressionable,” he said.
When the others left I stayed behind to talk to Stanley. “Well, you get your wish,” I said.
“I’m glad Max made you my jailer,” Stanley answered, sitting down on his couch.
“Please, don’t cause trouble for me.”
“I’ll be good,” Stanley promised.
“Did you really mean what you said about believing in God?”
“Sure. Don’t you?”
“I suppose you have an immortal soul,” I said sarcastically.
“Why not?” Stanley said, sitting up straight.
“Come on, be serious.”
“I am serious. I make choices. I can be good or bad. Why can’t I have a soul? Just because I’m not human? You think humans have a monopoly?”
“I don’t think anyone has a soul,” I answered loudly. “Not you, not me.”
“Oh,” Stanley said in surprise. For a moment he studied me. “I just assumed you believed in God. I thought you went to church with Jean.”
“I pick her up afterwards.”
“But you were confirmed?” Stanley asked with a puzzled expression,
Before I knew it I was pouring out the whole story of my early conversion and then my falling out with the school chaplain.
“You must have annoyed him with your questions,” Stanley commented.
“He couldn’t have anyone questioning him,” I said heatedly.
“I’m glad you didn’t treat me that way,” Stanley said. “I’m glad you were so patient with all my questions.”
I nodded but when I thought about it I realized I hadn’t been so patient with Stanley’s questions.
“I’m not supposed to be telling you any of this,” I told Jean when we were alone together in my apartment. I told her all that had happened. Jean took my hand when I was through.
“I think you’re a hero,” she said.
“I didn’t threaten to resign,” I admitted. “Max told me he’d changed his mind before I could say anything.”
“But you were prepared to,” Jean said, squeezing my hand.
I nodded but I wondered. We snuggled up on the couch together. The next thing I knew it was two o’clock in the morning. I lay there listening to the sound of her breathing and feeling the warmth of her body against mine. For a moment I was happy and at peace. This is what I really wanted, for now, for tomorrow, forever. For a moment I was going to ask her to marry me and in my mind’s eye she would wake up just enough to say “yes” and then snuggle up against me and go back to sleep. And as simply as that I would enter into the promised land. But now I was waking up. Second thoughts were blowing in from the north.
I remembered sitting beside my brother while he drove me back to school. It was dark and beginning to snow. The tires threw gravel against the car frame. Neither of us spoke while Phil peered into the oncoming snow trying to spare his new car the really deep holes. There wasn’t much to say. Dad was moving to New Haven and Mother was staying in New Brunswick. She had her career and he had his. Phil and I couldn’t complain. There was plenty of money. He was driving me back to a very fine school and he was doing well at M.I.T.
I realized I’d better get Jean back to her dorm. She tightened her hold on me as I started to get up. “Jean,” I said, “wake up.”
The next day Stanley became Stanley Wright of the business office, an assistant to Bill Easterling. And within a week Stanley’s cover story was a reality. Bill was told that Stanley was conducting psychological tests and he would pose as an assistant from the business office of the Institute. For the sake of realism, Stanley asked Bill if there were some jobs he could do for him, At first Bill was less than thrilled with this arrangement but within a week his apprehension turned to gratitude. Stanley was completely dependable and positively eager to take on the most menial task.
“And you only have to tell him something once,” Bill said. “I swear he’s taken over.”
“Are you complaining?” I asked.
“No, not at all,” Bill replied.
At Stanley’s request Max arranged it so that those of Stanley’s tutors who were free could have lunch with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Stanley had noticed there was something almost mystical about eating together and he wanted to be a part of it. You may wonder how Stanley could eat with us, but he did. After a few lunches none of us questioned it. He usually had cold chicken or hot chili. I remember one day he even spilled his Coke. He accidentally hit his glass and knocked it over. The Coke ran out across his end table and fizzed up.
“Oh, damn,” Stanley exclaimed.
Sister looked reprovingly and Jean reached into her bag and brought out a wiper before she realized there was no way she could give it to Stanley. Along with the wiper a pair of scissors, a mirror and some knitting came out of Jean’s bag and clattered onto the coffee table.
“Thanks,” Stanley said. “I have one.” Stanley wiped up the spilled Coke while Jean gathered up her things.
