We're Friends, Now Page 3

entire sheathed sectionsto bare the inner secrets. The thousands of tiny transistors amazedBeardsley. The endless array of electric eyes startled him. And thespongy centers of synaptic cell-clusters horrified him, recalling toovividly to mind what he knew of the physical human brain.

  Along the monstrous length he trailed Jeff Arnold; he trailed and hewatched and he listened, not interfering once by word or gesture. Andbefore it was over his heart was surging with a great revelatory beatbecause suddenly _he knew_ ... _he knew_....

  Arnold seemed in high good humor as they paced back. "So," he nudgedBeardsley in the ribs, "we'll have no more of this nonsense between youand ECAIAC. Eh? You're just _bound_ to be good friends now."

  Beardsley didn't answer. The revelation was still too much with him. Hewatched as Arnold conferred with a group of his techs about amicro-chron, and the time was carefully noted for Central Record.

  Then the first of the tapes went in. The Basic Invariant--Amos Carmack.

  It reached synapse and a tiny blip registered on cue.

  The rest of the tapes fed in, razoring through the rollers, past theselenic-sensitized tips of the relays. There was no progressive order.After the Basic Invariant progression didn't matter. Possible or Logicalor Prime, all factors would correlate or cancel; any divergentstatus-shift would be duly handled by transferral impress.

  Beardsley counted the tapes. Twenty ... twenty-one ... twenty-two.

  The techs dispersed, taking up their various posts where specialeject-tapes clicked out a second-by-second record of the progression.

  * * * * *

  Nothing much happened. The sound of ECAIAC became a steady inundantdrone; or did Beardsley just imagine that he detected something of the_gleeful_ in it? With an effort he put the thought from him, and keepinga cautious distance he took a turn around the monster, up one side anddown the other.

  He stopped by Jeff Arnold, who was jotting down figures from the chrono.That seemed silly, as nothing had happened yet.

  Arnold glanced up and grinned at him, as if totally unconcerned thatthis was the most repercussive case in the entire history ofCrime-Central! A little disconcerted, Beardsley said, "What happensfirst?"

  "Oh, plenty is _happening_. But the first you'll notice will be a totalreject. Watch when that happens. Complete silence, every light red forexactly two and a half seconds--the reject, and then everythingcontinues."

  "How about Transferral Impress? You know--possible to Logical, orLogical to Prime?"

  Arnold paused over his notes for the merest instant. "Why--it'sprogressive, of course. _That_ you won't notice!"

  Beardsley stared at him curiously, started to speak and then changed hismind. He wandered again, watching the techs but not interfering. Andsuddenly he was aware that the first total reject had come. It happenedwith smooth and sudden silence just as Arnold had described, ECAIACbreaking pace for mere seconds ... then all was clear again, and one ofthe techs hurried down the aisle with the tape, which he handed toArnold.

  * * * * *

  Beardsley was aware of a wild pounding of pulse as he stared at theanonymous tape. One of the fifteen "possibles"? It might even be arejected Logical. Mrs. Carmack? She was borderline. Or a Prime! It couldbe Mandleco himself--or Losch or Pederson. No ... it was unlikely anyPrimes would fall this early....

  But maybe they were no longer Primes! Maybe _right now_ TransferralImpress was at work, maybe one or more of them was being relegated tolower cooerdinate-status somewhere there in the entrails....

  He felt a bounding excitement. And, as if reading his thoughts, JeffArnold gave him an amused look.

  "Don't let it get to you, Raoul. I used to find it the same; we all do.But then you get to thinking, hell, why try to guess? Identities don'tmatter now!" He indicated the coded tape. "A total reject--anonymous.ECAIAC's way of telling us _that_ person could not possibly be themurderer."

  "But--you're not even curious?"

  "At rejects? Why?" Arnold seemed perplexed. "Oh, you mean because _I'm_among the 'possibles.' Frankly it doesn't bother me. I know I'm not themurderer, and I have faith in ECAIAC. If this isn't my tape, the nextwill be--or the eighth, or the fifteenth."

  Beardsley nodded slowly. With ECAIAC it was only the final equate thatmattered, the total result of Cumulative. He saw the truth in that, andthe perfection. Or--his eyes beneath the glasses came to a quick brightfocus--_was_ it quite perfection? He watched in silence as Arnoldconsulted the micro-chron and jotted more notes. _Rej. Q-9 (code): (.008synap. circ.): 11:23 A.M._

  Beardsley wandered again, watching the techs. A sudden shivering seizedhim. How could they remain so calm? Were they so close to the forestthey couldn't notice? Something was about to happen ... to him it wasunmistakable, in the very atmosphere, sharpened and heightened by thefour walls--a pervading sense of _wrongness_ and a pyramiding tension.

  Even Arnold wasn't aware; _audibly_ nothing had changed, as ECAIACcontinued its soft-clicking whisper and the techs methodically checkedthe progress tapes. Beardsley stood numbly for a moment, strugglingagainst a welter of panic. Palms sweating, he moved a safe distance awayand waited.

  Eight minutes later came another reject. Six minutes later, the third.ECAIAC continued its blithe, soft-throated rhythm--but Beardsley was notfooled.

  Someone sent out for coffee. It arrived in steaming thermo-containers.Beardsley was on his first cup of coffee when rejects 4, 5 and 6 camethrough.

  He was on his second cup when number 7 ejected, and he had just taken alast swallow when all hell broke loose.

  * * * * *

  It wasn't much different from the other rejects. Total silence, everylight in every section red ... trouble was, they couldn't seem to gettogether again. Some went back to green, others blinked with ominousuncertainty, still others said "to hell with it" and exploded in viciousshards of glass that sprayed across the room. That was only thebeginning. Twenty feet from Beardsley came a louder explosion, a sort ofmuffled hissing. He ducked, as a complete bank of transistors zoomedpast his head. From a dozen places along the ninety-foot length angrytrails of smoke poured out. A tech yelled "Damn!" as he pulled back aburned hand. Sheathes crashed open. Long strands of vari-colored wireburst out and began a crazy aimless writhing, accompanied by an ominousbuzzing sound as if a swarm of angry metallic bees had escaped. Someonewas yelling, "Master-switch! The master-switch!"

  Beardsley saw Arnold leap to the master-switch, where he becameentangled with a tech who was screaming at him, "My God, sir, hurry!It's BREAKDOWN!"

  Cursing, Arnold shoved the man aside and pulled the controls.

  But now that it was roused, ECAIAC didn't want to give up so easily.There came a staccato series of minor explosions--defiant gesture,thought Beardsley!--before silence engulfed the room together with adrift of acrid smoke.

  It was acrid and _angry_ smoke. From a safe distance Beardsley adjustedhis glasses and observed the frantic, scurrying techs, many of themnursing burned hands. Aside from a pounding heart he was amazed at hisown calm; nevertheless, he tread with caution as he approached Arnold,who was on his haunches dolefully surveying the area of major damage.

  "Uh--is it something serious?"

  Arnold glared up at him. "Overload on the feed-backs. If that's _all_ itis, we can pull out the unit and replace it in a few hours."

  "Never happened before, eh?"

  "Not like this," Arnold groaned. "Lord--it just seemed to go berserk!"

  Beardsley glanced around nervously. "You see? You see? I didn't thinkour beautiful friendship could last...."

  Arnold snarled, "Get out, Beardsley! What the hell you doing hereanyway? Go somewhere and read a book!"

  "Yes. Yes, I--" Beardsley swallowed hastily. He then straightened, tooka last look around and pulled himself together. Without a word, heturned and strode resolutely into Jeff Arnold's office; he closed thedoor carefully, then hurried over to the stat and pushed the button forpriority.

>   "Hello," he said. "Mandleco's office? ... this is Mechanical Division ...no, I want _Mandleco_ ... I don't care, get him I said! This is emergency!Put him on at once!"

  * * * * *

  Mandleco arrived twenty minutes later. The Minister of Justice was talland raw-boned with a long hook-nose, a shock of whitening hair, and morethan a suggestion of military arrogance. He paused for precisely onesecond in the doorway, then strode straight over to Jeff Arnold. Beforesaying a word he bent slightly and peered into the maze of mechanism.

  Beardsley wanted to say, "Do you find the cause of the trouble, sir?"But he held his tongue.

  Mandleco straightened up, glaring. "Arnold, what is the meaning ofthis?"

  "Breakdown, sir."

  "I can see that! The cause, man, the cause!"

  "I--it's only the feed-back, sir." Arnold struggled with the terminals,most of which were a fused and tangled mess. "Not as bad as it looks, Iassure you. I've already contacted Maintenance; they're sending up a newunit."

  "What precisely does that mean? Can you complete the run or not! Thishas got to go through today!"

  Arnold touched a hot terminal, jerked back his hand and swore. "It will,sir. Give us a few hours. We had seven total rejects, so I doubt thetapes are at fault. More like a synaptic overload. Transferrals areokay, so I want to try it with a stepped-up synaptic check; that'llalleviate any overload without drain on the minor selective, which isbetter than setting up complete new correlation-grams."

  It was too much for Mandleco. Grinding a fist in his palm, he staredinto the matrix and muttered, "Unprecedented. Absolutely unprecedented!Arnold, I just can't understand _why_--"

  "Happened pretty suddenly," Beardsley intruded. His voice was low andladen with meaning. "Almost as if it had gone berserk! And littlewonder, if you ask me...."

  Mandleco turned quickly. "Eh? What do you mean?"

  "Well ... how would _you_ feel if you had just been handed the news, outof the blue, that someone you loved had been brutally murdered? ECAIACreacted, is all. She must have regarded Carmack as a father--"

  * * * * *

  Arnold looked up in amazement. "Beardsley, will you stop that crazynonsense!"

  "Nonsense?" Beardsley appeared hurt. "Why--you said yourself that youwanted me and ECAIAC to become great friends!" He appealed to Mandleco."That's what he said, sir, and he even took pains to introduce me andall, and--"

  "It was in the nature of a joke, sir!" Arnold's voice rose an octave. "Aprivate little joke, and he's trying to make it appear--"

  "Stop it, stop it!" Mandleco thundered. "Arnold--you get that new unitinstalled on the double! Put your best men on it. That's an order!Beardsley, I'm glad you had the presence of mind to contact me.Commendable, most commendable."

  Arnold scowled, hit Beardsley with an accusing look.

  "Above all," said Mandleco, "not a word of this must leak! _Damn_ it,why should this have to happen _now_? Public confidence will beundermined if they think ECAIAC is--is--"

  "Not infallible?" suggested Beardsley.

  "Exactly. You hear me, Arnold? Not a word of this must get out!"

  "I'm sure it won't," Arnold glared venomously at Beardsley, "if you'lljust keep _him_ away from the tele-stats."

  * * * * *

  The Minister of Justice walked away, still muttering something aboutpublic confidence and political repercussions. Beardsley kept pacebeside him until they were across the room. Then he spoke, timidly atfirst.

  "Pardon me, sir, but--I'd like to ask you something." His voice was lowand confidential. "If you'll just look around you...."

  "Eh?" Mandleco followed Beardsley's gesture, and for the first time heseemed to see the room in total. Shards of glass lay everywhere. A greattangle of wire was strewn half the length of ECAIAC, and a bank oftransistors reposed against the far wall in pitiful ruin. The techs hadalready started a strip-down, their tools and units across the flooradding to the general confusion.

  Mandleco said, "Well? What is it you--" His words stopped as if slicedin two by his teeth. "Yes. Yes, by God, I see what you mean!"

  "Can you really conceive of operation in two hours? _Two hours_," Arnoldsaid. "Two days, maybe. More likely in two weeks!"

  Mandleco groaned as if in pain, staring around.

  Beardsley pressed his point. "You'll pardon my saying it, sir, but I_do_ realize what the Carmack Case means--to you personally. So muchbuild-up and publicity, and the people demanding a verdict ... why, ifthe case were to snag now--"

  "Unthinkable!" A shudder touched Mandleco's long, lean frame. "Out withit, man! What are you trying to say?"

  Beardsley was suddenly sweating. He felt as if a long tube were insideof him, hot and throbbing, reaching up with a surge of pulse to histemples. _It had to be now. He had to say it._

  "Well," he gulped. "Just this, sir. I think the case can be crackedright now. Today. _Without_ ECAIAC."

  "Nonsense! Without ECAIAC? Why, that's--"

  "Sure. You think it's crazy. But I tell you _I_ can do it!" Beardsley'swords came fast and urgent. "I've followed this case from the beginning,I processed it, I'm familiar with every angle. I tell you, _I candeliver the killer_. Give me permission to try!"

  Mandleco stared at Beardsley as if he were some queer specimen under amicroscope; his mouth opened to speak, then he clamped his teeth tightlyand strode away.

  He turned back abruptly. "So you think you have the solution. Youactually--do--think it!" His eyes narrowed down, no longer amused, as hefixed the little serologist with a peculiar gaze. "Go on, Beardsley.Your suggestion at least has the novelty of imagination!"

  "The novelty of experience," Beardsley said bitterly. "_With yourpermission and co-operation_ I can solve this case, together withpositive evidence that will hold up in any court! What's more, I'll doit today. A guarantee," Beardsley said pointedly, "which I dare say youno longer have from ECAIAC."

  * * * * *

  Mandleco stood quite motionless, trying to recall something. "Now Iremember! You were with New York Homicide, weren't you, before promotionto Cooerdinates in '60? I recall passing on your record. Top record, too,for those days."

  Beardsley gestured impatiently. "How about it, sir? I know everypertinent fact of this case, plus a few of my own which haven't beentested in a dozen years. Not indexes and tubes and tapes--just facts!Fact and method! Let me apply them!"

  "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Beardsley. There _is_ ECAIAC,and public confidence must not be allowed--"

  "The public be damned," Beardsley caught himself. "All right--forappearance sake you can say the solution _came_ from ECAIAC. Let ECAIACverify me later if you wish. I'm not after headlines and glory ... byheaven, sir, I'm offering you an _out_!"

  Mandleco pondered that. He glanced again at the confusion across theroom, and realization seemed to hit him. Quite suddenly, then, he threwback his head and roared with laughter.

  "An out. And by heaven, Beardsley, I'm offering you a try! The ideaappeals to me! Beardsley versus ECAIAC ... socio-archaism opposed to the_machina-ratiocinatrix_. Why, it's delicious!" He subsided to a rumbleof mirth and wiped tears from his eyes. "So! Just what do you propose?"

  Beardsley saw nothing amusing. "I propose first, sir, that we reach anunderstanding. I'm to conduct the investigation my own way, withoutinterference?"

  "You have my word! I never violate it."

  "Good. Then start using your word right now. There are three persons Iwant placed in temporary custody; they are to be brought over here atonce for questioning."

  * * * * *

  Mandleco looked appalled. "Questioning? _Here?_"

  "Yes, right here. Immediately! The three I want are Mrs. Carmack--Ihappen to know she's still in the city. And Brook Pederson--you shouldreach him easily at Central News Bureau. The third--"

  "Would that be Professor Losch?" Mandleco smugly asked. "So
rry, butLosch happens to be in Bermuda right now."

  Beardsley said sharply: "How did you know that?"

  "Why, I--I'm acquainted with Losch, you know. He was planning avacation, and he mentioned Bermuda--"

  "No. I don't mean that. _How did you know Losch was my third person?_"

  Mandleco bristled a little, his face reddening as he groped for ananswer. "Never mind," Beardsley waved it aside. "If Losch is in Bermudaat present we'll reach him by tele-stat right now!" He was suddenlycrisp as he propelled the Minister of Justice toward Jeff Arnold'soffice.

  Mandleco stared at this little man, wondering if it were the same personhe had been talking to just minutes before. "Now see here, Beardsley--"But he was interrupted.

  "I thought we had an understanding! Of course, if you'd prefer to counton ECAIAC--"

  "Very well," Mandleco nodded grimly, "I gave you my word. But theinstant Arnold repairs the breakdown, your little experiment is over! Doyou understand that?"

  Beardsley nodded. He understood very well.

  "In the meantime, Beardsley, I warn you. I'll have no brow-beating ofthese citizens, no--what was it called--third-degreeing tactics!