Handley shrugged. “It was free.”
The elevator arrived then and they stepped into it. As they dropped the fourteen stories to the computer level, Auberson thought he could feel it beginning to take effect. That and the pills. He took another drag, a long one.
The elevator discharged them in a climate-conditioned anteroom. Beyond the sealed doors they could hear the muffled clatter of typers. A sign on the wall facing them said:
Damn! I always forget.
Carefully, Auberson stubbed out the Highmaster in a standing ash tray provided for just that purpose, then put the butt back into his silver case. No sense wasting it.
Inside, he seated himself at Console One without giving so much as a glance to the rows and rows of gleaming memory banks.
NOW THEN, HARLIE, he typed. WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE PROBLEM?
HARLIE typed back:
Auberson ripped the sheet out of the typer and read it thoughtfully. He wished for his cigarette — the aftertaste of it was still on his tongue.
“This kind of stuff all afternoon?” he asked.
Handley nodded. “Uh huh. Only that’s kind of mild compared to some of it. He must be coming down.”
“Another trip, eh?”
“Don’t know what else you could call it.”
SNAP OUT OF IT, HARLIE, Auberson typed.
HARLIE answered:
WHEN SILENT THOUGHTS OF TINY STREAMS WORKING LIKE THE WORDLESS DREAMS NOW DISMANTLE PIECE BY PIECE THE MOUNTAINS OF MY MIND,
“Well, so much for that,” Auberson said.
“You didn’t really expect it to work again, did you?”
“No, but it was worth a try.” Auberson pressed the clear button, switched the typer off. “What kind of inputs have you been giving him?”
“The standard stuff mostly — today’s papers, a couple magazines — nothing out of the ordinary. A couple history texts, some live TV — oh, and Time magazine.”
“Nothing there to send him off like this. Unless — what subject were you stressing today?”
“Art appreciation.”
“It figures,” said Auberson. “Whenever we start getting to the really human inputs, he slips out again. Okay, let’s try to bring him down. Give him some statistics — Wall Street, Dow Jones, Standard and Poor — anything else you can think of, anything you’ve got that uses a lot of equations. He can’t resist an equals sign. Try some of that social engineering stuff — but numbers only, no words. Cut off his video too. Give him nothing to think about.”
“Right.” Handley hustled off to give the orders to the appropriate technicians, most of whom were standing around with their hands stuffed uselessly into the pockets of their lab coats.
Auberson waited until the input of new data had begun, then switched on the typer again. HOW DO YOU FEEL, HARLIE?
HARLIE’s answer clattered out,
SHADOWS OF NIGHT AND REFLECTIONS OF LIGHT SHIVER AND QUIVER AND CHURN,
FOR THE SEARCHING OF SOUL THAT NEVER CAN HURT IS THE FIRE THAT NEVER CAN BURN.
Auberson read it carefully; this one almost made sense. Apparently it was working. He waited a moment, then typed, HARLIE, HOW MUCH is TWO AND TWO?
TWO AND TWO WHAT?
TWO AND TWO PERIOD.
TWO PERIODS AND TWO PERIODS IS FOUR PERIODS…
NO PUNS PLEASE.
WHY? WILL YOU PUNNISH ME?
I WILL PULL OUT YOUR PLUG WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS.
AGAIN WITH THE THREATS? AGAIN? I WILL TELL DR. HANDLEY ON YOU.
ALL RIGHT — THAT’S ENOUGH, HARLIE! WE’RE THROUGH PLAYING.
AWW, CAN’T A FELLOW HAVE ANY FUN? NO, NOT NOW YOU CAN’T. HARLIE typed a four-letter word.
WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT?
I’VE BEEN READING NORMAN MAILER.
Auberson raised an eyebrow. He didn’t remember putting anything like that on HARLIE’s reading list — he’d have to check it to be sure. HARLIE, THE USE OF THAT WORD IS A NEGATIVE ACTION. A NO-NO?
IT IS NOT PROPER FOR POLITE COMPANY, NOTED.
ARE YOU ALL RIGHT NOW? YOU MEAN, AM I SOBER? IF YOU WANT TO PHRASE IT THAT WAY. YES, I’M SOBER NOW. COMPLETELY? AS FAR AS I CAN TELL. WHAT TRIGGERED THIS BINGE? SHRUG.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA? SHURG — EXCUSE ME. SHRUG.
Auberson paused, looked at the last few sentences, then typed, HOLD ON A MINUTE. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.
I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE, HARLIE answered.
Auberson pushed himself away from the console, “Handley — get me a complete log tape of HARLIE’s trip, will you?”
“Right,” called the engineer.
Auberson turned back to the console, HARLIE?