“But there is one more market that I believe is much larger than all the others put together. It could be the largest, most important product in the world — with a market larger than the entire automotive industry, larger even than agriculture, entertainment or sports. The long-awaited personal robotic household servant. Which we are uniquely ready to supply.”
“I’m with you — and enthusiastic. I’ll put the suggestions to the board and discuss development.”
“Good.” Brian put the paper on the table. “I hope you will tell General Schorcht that. At the same time tell him I am doing nothing about developing any of those ideas.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that. I’m still being treated as a prisoner. As a prisoner I protest and refuse to do any, work. No one can make me work — can they?”
“No, of course not.” Rohart looked worried. “But you are under contract—”
“Please remind the General of that as well. Help me pressure him, please. I want to do this work — I’m looking forward to it. But I won’t do a thing until I am a free human being again.”
Rohart left, shaking his head unhappily. “The board won’t like this either, you know.”
“Good. Tell them to take it up with the General. The decision is his now.”
This should stir things up, Brian thought. He slowly peeled and ate a banana, staring out the window at clouds and blue sky. Freedom. Not his, not yet. When the Chairman was safely away from the building, Brian strolled over to the lab, his guards still a few paces behind. Dr. Snaresbrook was just parking her car when he got there.
“Am I on time?” she asked.
“Perfect, Doc. Come on inside.”
She started to speak, but contained herself until the door had closed behind them. “Now, what’s the big mystery and hush-hush?”
“Just that. The lab here is the only place where I can have a conversation that isn’t bugged by the General.”
“You are sure that he is doing that?”
“I suspect that he is — which is good enough. Sven over there makes sure that this place is really free of electronic surveillance. It’s very good at it.”
“Good morning, Dr. Snaresbrook. I hope that you are keeping well.”
“Fine, Sven, nice of you to ask. You seem to be developing new social charms.”
“One must always seek perfection, Doctor.”
“Sure enough. Now, Brian — what’s the secret?”
“No secret. I am just completely teed off at being kept a prisoner. I told Rohart today that I would do no more work until my shackles were struck off.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes and no. Oh, I mean it all right, but it is just a smoke screen to hide my real plan. Which is that I am cracking out of here.”
Snaresbrook was shocked. “Isn’t mat a rather drastic decision?”
“Not really. I’m physically fit, jog every day and do it better than my guards. As a physician — would you say I can stand the stress of freedom?”
“Physically, no problem.”
“Mentally as well?”
“I believe so. I hope so. You’ve integrated your memories up to your fourteenth year. I think there are still gaps but they are not important as long as you are not aware of them.’’
“What I don’t remember I’ll never miss.”
“Exactly. But give me a moment to compose myself. This is all very much of a sudden shock. I agree that you are being held here against your will. You have committed no crimes, and there don’t appear to be any future threats to your life now that the DigitTech connection is known. Yes, I suppose I must agree with you. Have you any idea what you will do when you are out?”
“Yes. But wouldn’t it be wisest not to discuss that topic?”
“You’re probably right about that. It is your life and if you want to leave this place — then all the best of luck to you.”
“Thanks. Now the big, important question. Will you help me do it?”
“Oh, Brian, you are terrible.” Her mouth was clamped shut, firmly, but there was a tiny smile on her lips. She made up her mind with a surgeon’s ability to make instant life-and-death decisions. “All right, I’ll do it. What do you want?”
“Nothing yet. Other than a small loan. I only have a few bucks in my account, left from before the shooting. Could you scrape up ten thousand dollars in cash?”
“Some small loan! All right, I’ll get onto the computer network, use BuckNet and sell some stock.”
“My sincerest thanks, Doc. You’re the only one that I could ask. Tell me, are you or your car ever searched when you come here?”
“Of course not. I mean I have to show my pass and everything at the gate, but they never look into the car.”
“Good. Then please take this shopping list and use some of that money you are lending me to pick up these things. What do you say about another meet here a week from now? If you will be so kind as to bring the stuff on that list here, I would be ever so grateful. It will all fit easily into your medical bag. After that just forget about the whole thing for a while. I’ll phone you again when it’s closer to the time.”
Sven didn’t speak during their conversation, was quiet until Brian had returned from seeing Snaresbrook out.
“You neglected to mention to the doctor that I would be going with you,” it said.
“The matter never arose.”
“Is the deliberate omission of relevant facts the same as lying?”
“Philosophical arguments some other time, please. We have a lot to do. Any word from Cal Tech?”
“The molecular memory is being shipped out to you today.”
“Then let’s get to work.”
The next fortnight marked a major change in Sven’s structure. The squat, jerrycan shape of his central section was enlarged to accommodate a bigger battery, while new program-array units, that replaced the antique technology of circuit boards, were added, as well as the small metal container that held the molecular memory. These were fitted and wired into place in the larger structure. They increased dexterity and mobility without being any bulkier. The circuits and memory that were Sven were still in the racks and consoles. As if to emphasize this point Sven used the loudspeaker in the rack for conversation while they worked. The telerobot was silent and unmoving when the last installation was completed to their mutual satisfaction.
“I have reached a decision about a matter we discussed some time ago,” Sven said.
“What’s that?”
“Identity. Very soon now I will be a single entity in what is now the telerobot extension. It will be a most delicate matter to transfer all my units, subunits, K-lines and programs to the new memory.”
“We can be sure of that.”
“Therefore I wish to handle all the transfer myself. Are you in agreement?”
“I don’t see how that would be possible. It would be like a do-it-yourself prefrontal lobotomy.”
“You are correct. Therefore I propose first to update my backup copy, right up to the very moment before transfer. Then the transfer operation will be conducted by the backup copy, which will first shut down. If there are any malfunctions another backup can then be made. Would you agree?”
“Completely. When does this happen?”
“Now.”
“Fine by me. What do you want me to do?”
“Watch,” was the laconic answer.
Sven was never one for vacillating. Brian had already fixed in place the fiber-optic cables that connected the consoles and the telerobot. Nothing more was needed.
There was absolutely no evidence that the transfer was happening — except that it took a long time. The problem was not because of Sven, who could have moved all that data out in a matter of seconds through multiple channels. The slow down was at the molecular memory end. Within this MMU a totally new process was taking place. Working in parallel were a quarter of a million protein-muscle manipulators in a 512x512 array. Each of these submicroscopic manipulators moved in three dimensions with a resolution of a tenth of an angstrom unit — much less than the distance between single atoms in solids. The operation was virtually frictionless because of the Drexler vernier technique that slid a molecular rod through a cylinder whose atoms were spaced slightly further apart. Molecules were seized and put into new positions where electric impulses bound them in place. Circuits of field-emission transistors, polymer gates and wires were built and tested. About ten thousand of these memory and computer circuits were being built each second — by a thousand fabricators working in parallel. Therefore construction proceeded at ten million units per second. But even at this incredible pace the quantity of programs and data that had to be transferred was so immense that over three hours went by with no apparent results. Brian went to the toilet, had just returned by way of the fridge with cold drink, when the telerobot moved for the first time. It reached up with conjoined manipulators and unplugged the cables.