“I’ll settle for this one for now — it’s really neat. I’ll set up a newspaper for myself.”

“You can — but that’s not why I brought the printer. You’ve been trying to order some books, the request got passed on to me. With the printer you can only store them in memory, but with eternitree you can print the book you want, slip the sheet into a spring binder and sit in the sun while you read.”

“And reuse the sheets again when I’m through! A lot has happened that I forgot about. Say, can’t you print out that report I asked for on this? I could have it right now.”

Benicoff turned to the terminal. “I don’t know. If this hospital has a cleared high-security network it might be possible. Only one way to find out.”

He punched in his own code, accessed base security and found the right menu. But before he had gone very much further the screen cleared and the lines of print were replaced by General Schorcht’s scowling image.

“What is the meaning of this breach of security?” His rasping voice rasping even worse through the terminal’s tiny speaker.

“Good morning, General. Just trying to get a copy of the classified Megalobe report for Brian.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No more than usual. Think, General. Brian was there. He is our only witness. We need his help. If I can’t get a copy now I will bring him one tomorrow. Does any of this make sense to you?”

General Schorcht stared in cold silence while he thought it through. “The hospital circuits are not secure. I’ll have the Pentagon transfer a one-off copy to CNBSC, the Security Central there. A messenger will deliver the copy.” The screen went blank as soon as he finished.

“Well good-bye then, sir, nice to chat with you. You heard.”

Brian nodded. “I don’t know if I can help — but at least I can find out what happened to me out there. Early on, Dr. Snaresbrook said that others had been killed. Very many?”

“We just don’t know — that is one of the infuriating things about this case. One man we can be fairly certain of, the Megalobe Chairman, J. J. Beckworth. We found a drop of his blood. But seventeen men in all are missing. How many were killed — and how many were in on the crime, we just have no idea. You’ll read it in the report.”

“What was taken?”

“Every record and every item of equipment relating to your work on artificial intelligence. They also moved out every piece of electronic equipment and record, every book and piece of paper from your home. The neighbors reported that a moving van was there for at least a half a day.”

“You’ve traced the van?”

“The plates were forgeries and the company doesn’t exist. Oh yes, the moving men were of oriental appearance.”

“Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Siamese, Vietnamese or any specific country?”

“The elderly witnesses can only identify them as oriental.”

“And the trail gets colder every day.”

Benicoff nodded reluctant agreement.

“I wish I could be of help — but as far as my memory goes I’m still living back in UFE. Maybe if I saw the house I might get some clues. Maybe they missed my computer backup. I lost two important files when I first started programming seriously and I swore it would never happen again. I wrote an automatic program that saved to an external disk drive as I worked.”

“Not a bad idea — but they got every disk in the house.”

“But my program did more than just backup disks. When I was fourteen years old my program also backed the backup disk through the telephone modem to the mainframe in my father’s lab. I wonder what setup I had here?”

Benicoff was on his feet, fists clenched. “Do you realize what you have just said?”

“Sure. There is a good chance that there is a copy of my AI work in a memory bank somewhere. That would help, wouldn’t it?”

“Help! My boy, we might be able to rebuild your AI with it! It wouldn’t solve the problem of who pulled this thing off — but they wouldn’t be the only ones with artificial intelligence.” He grabbed up the phone and punched in a number. “Dr. Snaresbrook, please. When? Have her contact me as soon as she gets back. Benicoff, right. Tell her that it is urgent to know just how soon her patient will be able to leave the hospital. That is a gold-placed top priority question.”

14

November 10, 2023

The nurse came bustling into the room, leaving the door open.

“You will have to leave now, Mr. Benicoff.” She pulled back the bedclothes and plumped the pillows as she spoke. “Time to get into bed, Brian.”

“Do I have to? I feel okay.”

“Please do as I say. Your pulse, blood pressure, both are elevated.”

“I’m just excited about something, that’s all.”

“Bed. Did you hear me, Mr. Benicoff?”

“Yes, great, sure. I’ll talk to you later, Brian, after I’ve seen the doctor.”

Despite the months of rest and treatment, the trauma of the shooting and the surgery that had followed was still taking its toll. Brian fell asleep almost at once and didn’t wake until he heard voices, opened his eyes to see Ben and the doctor at his bedside.

“A little too much excitement,” Dr. Snaresbrook said. “But nothing to worry about. Ben tells me that you are rarin’ to go for a ride in the country.”

“Could I?”

“Not for a while yet, not after the surgery you have undergone. But it may not be necessary.”

“Why?”

“Ben will explain.”

“My blood pressure must have gone as high as yours,” Benicoff said. “In the heat of the moment I just wasn’t thinking. There is no physical need to go to the house yet. I’ll have it searched again, but I doubt if they will come up with anything new. You said, Brian, that you used to store your backup files in your father’s computer.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, there have been major changes in communication technology that you can’t remember. For one thing everything is digital now and fiber optics have replaced copper wire in all but the most remote areas. Every telephone has a built-in modem — and they are already old-fashioned. All of the large cities have cellphone networks and they are expanding.” He tapped the telephone on his belt. “I have my own number for this. About most of the time it rings wherever I am in the continental United States.”

“Is it a satellite link?”

“No, satellite connections are too slow for most uses — particularly telepresence. Everything is fiber optics now — even the undersea cables. Cheap and fast. With plenty of room for communication with eight thousand megahertz band-width capacity available everywhere — and all of it two-way.”

Brian nodded. “I get your drift, Ben. What you’re saying is that there is very little chance that I had a local mechanical backup. It was undoubtedly an electronic one. Which will mean an electronic search.”

“Right. There are countless mailboxes, data base and communication programs now. You could have used one or more of these. But computer privacy laws are very strict these days. Even the FBI has to go to court to get permission for a search.”

“What about the CIA?”

“You’ll be happy to hear that they pulled one murderous trick too many and legislation has just been passed to put them out of the duty tricks business. Another victim of glasnost — and they won’t be missed. Particularly by the taxpayers who, it turned out, had been shelling out billions for a government department that produced nothing but inaccurate reports, started revolutions in friendly countries, mined harbors and managed to kill thousands of people along the way. They’ve been cut back to the original meaning of their name, a central intelligence agency, and are restricted to monitoring the peace instead of starting new wars. Now, if you will sign an agreement we can start the search at once.”

“Of course.”

It was not only papers that had to be signed, but there were numerous circuitry searches and phone-backs, as well as identity checks by three different government agencies. Benicoff sent everything off by registered fax, yawned and stretched.