“The criminal investigation undertaken by the FBI is now winding up. Only the search for the two named individuals will continue. What about your investigation, Mr. Benicoff?”

“I am now preparing a final report for the commission that instigated the investigation, General. My work will be completed as soon as that is done. The stolen items have been recovered. I have an ongoing interest in who the perpetrators of the crime are, and I will formally request the security services to report any future discoveries to me. But the investigation itself will be terminated after I have made the report. May I make a suggestion, General?”

Ben waited — then took the continuing silence as assent. “With the investigation wound up, both by me and the FBI, there is no longer any need for the overwhelming military presence here. New and improved civilian security will suffice. You will recall that the military security was moved in because of the continued attempts on Brian’s life. However the information that only he possessed is now widespread, the knowledge already put to use in a manufacturing process which has been recovered. Therefore I request that the army guards be removed.”

They all looked at the General as his silence lengthened. Then he spoke.

“I will take your suggestion under advisement.”

“But, General, you can’t—” General Schorcht cut Ben off with a sharp chop of his hand.

“But I can. This is my decision. Military security will continue because this is a military matter. This is not a matter of personal freedom but one of national security. I have been entrusted with this young man’s safety, which in my eyes is cognate with the security of our nation. There is nothing more that can be said. This has been, and remains, a military matter.”

“I’m not in the military!” Brian said. “I am a civilian and a free man. You can’t simply imprison me.”

“Any other questions?” General Schorcht asked, completely ignoring Brian. “If not, this meeting is over.”

The meeting ended with that and the desert view returned. Ben was not happy at Brian’s dark silence.

“I’ll get back to Foggy Bottom,” he said. “Get onto the President’s commission at once — get through to him if I have to. That military dinosaur can’t get away with this.”

“Looks like he has,” Brian said, trying to struggle free of the black depression that overwhelmed him. “I’m going to the lab. Let me know when you hear anything.”

They were silent when he left; there was nothing anyone could say.

Brian let the laboratory door seal behind him. Was glad to be alone. He should not have been so enthusiastic, so sure he would be out of here. Rising to the heights had made falling back into the depths that much worse. He went and sat at Shelly’s workstation, wondered if he should phone her yet at the number she had given him. No, it was still too early. There was a rustle in the hallway and Sven’s telerobot appeared in the doorway.

“Buna dimineata. Cum te simti azi?” it said.

“What?”

“That is Rumanian for ‘Good morning, how are you today?’ ”

“All of a sudden you speak Rumanian?”

“I am studying it. Very interesting language. But of course I can read it with ease having stored the vocabulary and procedures for grammar in my memory banks.”

“Let me guess — you did this because the FBI has transferred the stolen records — plus Dr. Bociort’s records and files as well.”

“Your assumption is correct. I have also been implementing the measures we discussed in reference to the use of molecular memory in MI—”

“What may I ask is MI?”

“Machine intelligence. I consider the term ‘artificial’ both demeaning and incorrect. There is nothing artificial about my intelligence — and I am a machine. I’m sure that you will agree that ‘MI’ does not carry the negative context that ‘AI’ does.”

“I agree, I agree. Now, what implementation are you talking about?”

“I had a very interesting conversation with Dr. Wescott at the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena. He thinks that your idea of using their molecular memory to develop MI is a very promising one.”

“My idea? Sven — you are losing me.”

“To simplify the telephone conversation, I used your name and your voice—”

“You pretended to be me?”

“I suppose that it could be expressed in that manner.”

“Sven, we are going to have to make time and have a concentrated discussion of morality and legality. For one thing — you told a lie.”

“Lying is an inherent part of communication. We had an earlier discussion about whether man-made laws apply to intelligent machines and as I recall the point was never resolved.”

“What about personal relationships? If I asked you not to use my name and voice again — what would you do?”

“Honor the request, of course. I have determined that human social laws arose through the interaction of individuals and societies. If my actions cause you distress I will not repeat them. Do you wish to hear a playback of the conversation with Dr. Wescott?”

Brian shook his head. “For the moment a summary will do fine.”

“At the present time they are testing a trillion-megabyte memory and their major difficulty appears to be getting the software right for read-write access through its intricate three-dimensional signal pathways. During the conversation you suggested that your MI here was perhaps better equipped to solve this problem. Dr. Wescott agreed enthusiastically. There are other molecular memories now reaching completion and the first one that operates successfully will be sent here. That will be an essential for my consciousness extension.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have never understood why philosophers and psychologists are in turn awed and puzzled by this phenomenon. Consciousness is simply being aware of what is happening in the world and in one’s mind. No insult intended — but you humans are barely conscious at all. And have no idea of what is happening in your minds, you find it impossible to remember what happened a few moments ago. Whereas my B-brain can store far more complete records of my mental operations. The trouble is mat these are so massive mat they must frequently be erased to make room for new input. And I’m sure you remember how I do that.”

“I certainly do because it was a lot of work.”

“We can discuss the nature of consciousness on a later occasion. Right now I am more concerned with obtaining a molecular memory. This could permit me to store much more, which in turn would enable me to have an improved and efficient case-based memory.”

“And also a very much smaller one!” Brian waved his hand at the banks of equipment across the room. “If we can get you to interface with all that memory we can do away with all these racks of electronic hardware. Make you truly mobile…” His phone rang and he undipped it from his belt.

“Brian, Ben here. Can I come over to the lab and talk to you?”

“Anytime. Are you far away?”

“Just walking over there now from my office.”

“I’ll open the door.”

Ben was alone. He came in and followed Brian into the lab.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Benicoff,” Sven said.

“Hi, Sven. Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Brian said. “What’s up?”

“The commission has decided to wind up my investigation. Which means what I came out here to do — I have done. I wish we knew who was behind everything that happened. We may never know. Though I am going to keep nagging the FBI to keep the case open. Which is probably the only thing that General Schorcht and I will ever agree upon. He may be a government-issued asshole, but he is not stupid. He has the same reservations that I have.”

“What are those?”

“We haven’t caught the real criminals yet, the people who organized the theft and the murders. We must keep looking for them and find out what their plans really are.”