“—a drain on corporate funds,” Dome repeated, “with no immediate prospect of return. It’s not how successful your research has been that we’re concerned with. It’s whether or not we want to continue.”
There was something in the chairman’s voice that made Auberson pause. “All right,” he said wearily. “What do you want me to do?”
“Show a profit,” put in Elzer.
Both Dome and Auberson ignored him. Dome said, “Show us a plan. Where are you going with HARLIE? What are you going to do with him? And most of all, what is he going to do for us?”
“I’m not sure I can answer that right now…”
“How much time do you need?”
Auberson shrugged. “I can’t say.”
“Why don’t you ask HARLIE for the answer?” Elzer mocked.
Auberson looked at him. “I believe I will. I believe I will.”
But he didn’t. Not right away.
The motion was tabled, and the meeting broke up on an uncertain note. Auberson brooded through the halls until he finally came to rest in the company cafeteria, a sterile plastic chamber lined with colorless murals.
Those periods of non-rationality still annoyed him, but for new reasons. Why hadn’t he foreseen their possibility? What had he overlooked?
He had a vague feeling that Elzer was right, that perhaps he wasn’t suited to be in charge of the project. He had bungled it. Badly. Worst of all, he couldn’t figure why. He knew and he didn’t know. The answer was there, but he couldn’t convince himself of it.
For sure, he hadn’t convinced the Board of Directors.
It didn’t make any difference either way. He’d have to talk to HARLIE again, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He still didn’t have an answer for HARLIE’s question. What was the purpose of a human being anyway?
He wondered if there even was an answer to that.
If there was one, it wasn’t going to come easy. He found himself reaching for his Highmasters, then remembered his resolution. He took another sip of his coffee instead. Bitter, too bitter.
A gentle voice intruded on his thoughts. “Hi, can I join you?” It was Stimson, the Executive Secretary.
“Sure.” He started to rise, but she waved him back down. The company cafeteria was no place for chivalry.
“Rough one today, wasn’t it?” she said, unloading a garish-colored tray. A sandwich and a Coke. When he didn’t answer, she smiled at him. “Oh, come on, Auberson, relax. I was only making small talk.”
He looked at her. Then he looked again. Her eyes were the deep glowing green of a warm Caribbean sea. Her skin was the gentle pink of the shore. Her auburn hair was a cascade of sunshine and embers. And she was smiling…
He dropped his gaze; it was getting too intense. “I’d like to relax,” he said. “But I can’t. This thing is too important.” After a bit he added, “To me, anyway.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” He looked at her again.
She didn’t answer. She only returned his gaze. For the first time he noticed the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. How old was she anyway? He returned to the study of his coffee cup. “HARLIE is like a… a… I know it sounds hokey — but he’s like a child, a son.”
“I know. I’ve read the company doctor’s report on you.”
“Huh?” His head snapped up. “I didn’t know—”
“Of course not. Nobody ever knows when we do a psychiatric report on them. It’d be bad policy. Anyway, you don’t have to worry.”
“Oh?”
She shook her head. “Oh, it did mention your introvertedness — and let’s see, what else — there was something about your worrying too much because you take on too much responsibility and…” She surveyed him thoughtfully as if trying to remember what else.
“You shouldn’t be telling me all this, should you?”
“Does it make a difference?” Her smile was like sunlight on sand, warm and bright.
“No, I guess not. What else was in the report?”
“He said you were becoming overly involved with the HARLIE project, but that such a development was almost unavoidable. Whoever became HARLIE’s mentor would have found himself emotionally attached.”
“Mm,” Auberson grunted.
“So you think HARLIE will have an answer?”
He started to reply, then stopped. Instead, he said, “Is that why you sat down here? To pump me for information?”
She looked stung. “I’m sorry you think that. No, I sat down here because I thought you might want to talk — might want someone to talk to,” she corrected herself.
Auberson surveyed her thoughtfully. He’d never paid much attention to her in the past; their paths didn’t cross much. Why had she sat down by him? Idly he wondered if those rumors were true that she was man-hungry. She seemed so open and friendly — damnit, why was he always trying to analyze everything?
There was an innocence in her face that made her appear so young, but this close to her he wasn’t sure. Perhaps she was nearer his own age of thirty-eight than he had thought. He didn’t see anything in her eyes to make him doubt her — yet, why was she being so forward? Or maybe he didn’t want to see anything.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been under pressure. And when I’m pressured I get moody and irritable.”
“ “I know. That was in the report too.”
“Is there anything that wasn’t in the report?”
“Only whether you like your steak rare, medium or well done.”
“Rare,” he said. Then, “Hey, was that a dinner invitation?”
She laughed. Silver chimes tinkling in a blue-white breeze. “No, I’m sorry. It was just the first thing that popped into my head.”
“Oh, okay.” He grinned back at her.
“You aren’t going to answer me, are you?”
“Huh?” He let the grin fade. “About what?”