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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Self Portrait, by Bernard Wolfe
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Self Portrait
-
-Author: Bernard Wolfe
-
-Release Date: March 23, 2016 [EBook #51534]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SELF PORTRAIT ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
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-
-
-
-
-
-
- Self Portrait
-
- By BERNARD WOLFE
-
- Illustrated by MARTIN SCHNEIDER
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Galaxy Science Fiction November 1951.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-
-
- In the credo of this inspiringly selfless
- cyberneticist, nothing was too good for his colleagues
- in science. Much too good for them!
-
-
-_October 5, 1959_
-
-Well, here I am at Princeton. IFACS is quite a place, _quite_ a place,
-but the atmosphere's darned informal. My colleagues seem to be mostly
-youngish fellows dressed in sloppy dungarees, sweatshirts (the kind
-Einstein made so famous) and moccasins, and when they're not puttering
-in the labs they're likely to be lolling on the grass, lounging in
-front of the fire in commons, or slouching around in conference rooms
-chalking up equations on a blackboard. No way of telling, of course,
-but a lot of these collegiate-looking chaps must be in the MS end,
-whatever that is. You'd think fellows in something secret like that
-would dress and behave with a little more dignity.
-
-Guess I was a little previous in packing my soup-and-fish. Soon as I
-was shown to my room in the bachelor dorms, I dug it out and hung it
-way back in the closet, out of sight. When in Rome, etc. Later that day
-I discovered they carry dungarees in the Co-op; luckily, they had the
-pre-faded kind.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_October 6, 1959_
-
-Met the boss this morning--hardly out of his thirties, crew-cut,
-wearing a flannel hunting shirt and dirty saddleshoes. I was glad I'd
-thought to change into my dungarees before the interview.
-
-"Parks," he said, "you can count yourself a very fortunate young man.
-You've come to the most important address in America, not excluding the
-Pentagon. In the world, probably. To get you oriented, suppose I sketch
-in some of the background of the place."
-
-That would be most helpful, I said. I wondered, though, if he was as
-naive as he sounded. Did he think I'd been working in cybernetics labs
-for going on six years without hearing enough rumors about IFACS to
-make me dizzy? Especially about the MS end of IFACS?
-
-"Maybe you know," he went on, "that in the days of Oppenheimer and
-Einstein, this place was called the Institute for Advanced Studies.
-It was run pretty loosely then--in addition to the mathematicians and
-physicists, they had all sorts of queer ducks hanging around--poets,
-egyptologists, numismatists, medievalists, herbalists, God alone knows
-what all. By 1955, however, so many cybernetics labs had sprung up
-around the country that we needed some central coordinating agency,
-so Washington arranged for us to take over here. Naturally, as soon
-as we arrived, we eased out the poets and egyptologists, brought in
-our own people, and changed the name to the Institute for Advanced
-_Cybernetics_ Studies. We've got some pretty keen projects going now,
-_pret_-ty keen."
-
-I said I'd bet, and did he have any idea which project I would fit into?
-
-"Sure thing," he said. "You're going to take charge of a very important
-lab. The Pro lab." I guess he saw my puzzled look. "Pro--that's short
-for prosthetics, artificial limbs. You know, it's really a scandal.
-With our present level of technology, we should have artificial limbs
-which in many ways are even better than the originals, but actually
-we're still making do with modifications of the same primitive, clumsy
-pegs and hooks they were using a thousand years ago. I'm counting on
-you to get things hopping in that department. It's a real challenge."
-
-I said it sure was a challenge, and of course I'd do my level best to
-meet it. Still, I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. Around
-cybernetics circles, I hinted, you heard a lot of talk about the
-hush-hush MS work that was going on at IFACS and it sounded so exciting
-that, well, a fellow sort of hoped he might get into _that_ end of
-things.
-
-"Look here, Parks," the boss said. He seemed a little peeved.
-"Cybernetics is teamwork, and the first rule of any team is that not
-everybody can be quarterback. Each man has a specific job on our team,
-one thing he's best suited for, and what _you're_ best suited for,
-obviously, is the Pro lab. We've followed your work closely these last
-few years, and we were quite impressed by the way you handled those
-photo-electric-cell insects. You pulled off a brilliant engineering
-stunt, you know, when you induced nervous breakdown in your robot
-moths and bedbugs, and proved that the oscillations they developed
-corresponded to those which the human animal develops in intention
-tremor and Parkinson's disease. A keen bit of cybernetic thinking,
-that. _Very_ keen."
-
-It was just luck, I told him modestly.
-
-"Nonsense," the boss insisted. "You're first and foremost a talented
-neuro man, and that's exactly what we need in the Pro department.
-There, you see, the problem is primarily one of duplicating a nervous
-mechanism in the metal, of bridging the gap between the neuronic and
-electronic. So buckle down, and if you hear any more gossip about MS,
-forget it fast--it's not a proper subject of conversation for you. The
-loyalty oath you signed is very specific about the trouble you can get
-into with loose talk. Remember that."
-
-I said I certainly would, and thanks a whole lot for the advice.
-
-Damn! Everybody knows MS is the thing to get into. It gives you real
-standing in the field if it gets around that you're an MS man. I had my
-heart set on getting into MS.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_October 6, 1959_
-
-It never rains, etc.: now it turns out that Len Ellsom's here, and
-_he's_ in MS! Found out about it in a funny way. Two mornings a week,
-it seems, the staff members get into their skiing and hunting clothes
-and tramp into the woods to cut logs for their fireplaces. Well, this
-morning I went with them, and as we were walking along the trail
-Goldweiser, my assistant, told me the idea behind these expeditions.
-
-"You can't get away from it," he said. "E=MC^2 is in a tree trunk
-as well as in a uranium atom or a solar system. When you're hacking
-away at a particular tree, though, you don't think much about such
-intangibles--like any good, untheoretical lumberjack, you're a lot
-more concerned with superficialities, such as which way the grain
-runs, how to avoid the knots, and so on. It's very restful. So long
-as a cyberneticist is sawing and chopping, he's not a sliver of
-uncontaminated cerebrum contemplating the eternal slippery verities of
-gravity and electromagnetism; he's just one more guy trying to slice
-up one more log. Makes him feel he belongs to the human race again.
-Einstein, you know, used to get the same results with a violin."
-
-Now, I've heard talk like that before, and I don't like it. I don't
-like it at all. It so happens that I feel very strongly on the subject.
-I think a scientist should like what he's doing and not want to take
-refuge in Nature from the Laws of Nature (which is downright illogical,
-anyhow). I, for one, enjoy cutting logs precisely _because_, when my
-saw rasps across a knot, I know that the innermost secret of that
-knot, as of all matter in the Universe, is E=MC^2. It's my job to
-_know_ it, and it's very satisfying to _know_ that I know it and that
-the general run of people don't. I was about to put this thought into
-words, but before I could open my mouth, somebody behind us spoke up.
-
-"Bravo, Goldie," he said. "Let us by all means pretend that we belong
-to the human race. Make way for the new cyberneticists with their old
-saws. Cyberneticist, spare that tree!"
-
-I turned around to see who could be making jokes in such bad taste
-and--as I might have guessed--it was Len Ellsom. He was just as
-surprised as I was.
-
-"Well," he said, "if it isn't Ollie Parks! I thought you were out in
-Cal Tech, building schizophrenic bedbugs."
-
-After M. I. T. I _had_ spent some time out in California doing
-neuro-cyber research, I explained--but what was _he_ doing here? I'd
-lost track of him after he'd left Boston; the last I'd heard, he'd been
-working on the giant robot brain Remington-Rand was developing for the
-Air Force. I remembered seeing his picture in the paper two or three
-times while he was working on the brain.
-
-"I was with Remington a couple of years," he told me. "If I do say
-so myself, we built the Air Force a real humdinger of a brain--in
-addition to solving the most complex problems in ballistics, it could
-whistle _Dixie_ and, in moments of stress, produce a sound not unlike
-a Bronx cheer. Naturally, for my prowess in the electronic simulation
-of I.Q., I was tapped for the brain department of these hallowed
-precincts."
-
-"Oh?" I said. "Does that mean you're in MS?" It wasn't an easy idea to
-accept, but I think I was pretty successful in keeping my tone casual.
-
-"Ollie, my boy," he said in an exaggerated stage whisper, putting his
-finger to his lips, "in the beginning was the word and the word was
-mum. Leave us avoid the subject of brains in this _keen_ place. We
-all have a job to do on the team." I suppose that was meant to be a
-humorous imitation of the boss; Len always did fancy himself quite a
-clown.
-
-We were separated during the sawing, but he caught up with me on the
-way back and said, "Let's get together soon and have a talk, Ollie.
-It's been a long time."
-
-He wants to talk about Marilyn, I suppose. Naturally. He has a guilty
-conscience. I'll have to make it quite clear to him that the whole
-episode is a matter of complete indifference to me. Marilyn is a closed
-book in my life; he must understand that. But can you beat that? He's
-right in the middle of MS! That lad certainly gets around. It's the
-usual Ellsom charm, I suppose.
-
-The usual Ellsom technique for irritating people, too. He's still
-trying to get my goat; he knows how much I've always hated to be called
-Ollie. Must watch Goldweiser. Thought he laughed pretty heartily at
-Len's wisecracks.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_October 18, 1959_
-
-Things are shaping up in the Pro lab. Here's how I get the picture.
-
-A year ago, the boss laid down a policy for the lab: begin with legs
-because, while the neuro-motor systems in legs and arms are a lot
-alike, those in legs are much simpler. If we build satisfactory legs,
-the boss figures, we can then tackle arms; the main difficulties will
-have been licked.
-
-Well, last summer, in line with this approach, the Army picked out
-a double amputee from the outpatient department of Walter Reed
-Hospital--fellow by the name of Kujack, who lost both his legs in a
-land mine explosion outside Pyongyang--and shipped him up here to be a
-subject in our experiments.
-
-When Kujack arrived, the neuro boys made a major decision. It didn't
-make sense, they agreed, to keep building experimental legs directly
-into the muscles and nerves of Kujack's stumps; the surgical procedure
-in these cine-plastic jobs is complicated as all getout, involves a
-lot of pain for the subject and, what's more to the point, means long
-delays each time while the tissues heal.
-
-Instead, they hit on the idea of integrating permanent metal and
-plastic sockets into the stumps, so constructed that each new
-experimental limb can be snapped into place whenever it's ready for a
-trial.
-
-By the time I took over, two weeks ago, Goldweiser had the sockets
-worked out and fitted to Kujack's stumps, and the muscular and
-neural tissues had knitted satisfactorily. There was only one hitch:
-twenty-three limbs had been designed, and all twenty-three had been
-dismal flops. That's when the boss called me in.
-
-There's no mystery about the failures. Not to me, anyhow. Cybernetics
-is simply the science of building machines that will duplicate and
-improve on the organs and functions of the animal, based on what we
-know about the systems of communication and control in the animal. All
-right. But in any particular cybernetics project, everything depends
-on just how _many_ of the functions you want to duplicate, just how
-_much_ of the total organ you want to replace.
-
-That's why the robot-brain boys can get such quick and spectacular
-results, have their pictures in the papers all the time, and become
-the real glamor boys of the profession. They're not asked to duplicate
-the human brain in its _entirety_--all they have to do is isolate and
-imitate one particular function of the brain, whether it's a simple
-operation in mathematics or a certain type of elementary logic.
-
-The robot brain called the Eniac, for example, is exactly what its
-name implies--an Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer, and
-it just has to be able to integrate and compute figures faster and
-more accurately than the human brain can. It doesn't have to have
-daydreams and nightmares, make wisecracks, suffer from anxiety, and
-all that. What's more, it doesn't even have to _look_ like a brain or
-fit into the tiny space occupied by a real brain. It can be housed
-in a six-story building and look like an overgrown typewriter or an
-automobile dashboard or even a pogo stick. All it has to do is tell you
-that two times two equals four, and tell you fast.
-
-When you're told to build an artificial leg that'll take the place
-of a real one, the headaches begin. Your machine must not only _look_
-like its living model, it must _also_ balance and support, walk, run,
-hop, skip, jump, etc., etc. _Also_, it must fit into the same space.
-_Also_, it must feel everything a real leg feels--touch, heat, cold,
-pain, moisture, kinesthetic sensations--_as well as_ execute all the
-brain-directed movements that a real leg can.
-
-So you're not duplicating this or that function; you're reconstructing
-the organ in its totality, or trying to. Your pro must have a full set
-of sensory-motor communication systems, plus machines to carry out
-orders, which is impossible enough to begin with.
-
-But our job calls for even more. The pro mustn't only _equal_ the
-real thing, it must be _superior_! That means creating a synthetic
-neuro-muscular system that actually _improves_ on the nerves and
-muscles Nature created in the original!
-
-When our twenty-fourth experimental model turned out to be a dud last
-week--it just hung from Kujack's stump, quivering like one of my robot
-bedbugs, as though it had a bad case of intention tremor--Goldweiser
-said something that made an impression on me.
-
-"They don't want much from us," he said sarcastically. "They just want
-us to be God."
-
-I didn't care for his cynical attitude at all, but he had a point. Len
-Ellsom just has to build a fancy adding machine to get his picture in
-the papers. _I_ have to be God!
-
- * * * * *
-
-_October 22, 1959_
-
-Don't know what to make of Kujack. His attitude is peculiar. Of course,
-he's very co-operative, lies back on the fitting table and doesn't
-even wince when we snap on the pros, and he does his best to carry out
-instructions. Still, there's something funny about the way he looks at
-me. There's a kind of malicious expression in his eyes. At times, come
-to think of it, he reminds me of Len.
-
-Take this afternoon, for instance. I've just worked out an entirely
-different kind of leg based on a whole new arrangement of solenoids to
-duplicate the muscle systems, and I decided to give it a try. When I
-was slipping the model into place, I looked up and caught Kujack's eye
-for a moment. He seemed to be laughing at something, although his face
-was expressionless.
-
-"All right," I said. "Let's make a test. I understand you used to be
-quite a football player. Well, just think of how you used to kick a
-football and try to do it now."
-
-He really seemed to be trying; the effort made him sweat. All that
-happened, though, was that the big toe wriggled a little and the knee
-buckled. Dud Number Twenty-five. I was sore, of course, especially when
-I noticed that Kujack was more amused than ever.
-
-"You seem to think something's pretty funny," I said.
-
-"Don't get me wrong, Doc," he said, much too innocently. "It's just
-that I've been thinking. Maybe you'd have more luck if you thought of
-me as a bedbug."
-
-"Where did you get that idea?"
-
-"From Doc Ellsom. I was having some beers with him the other night.
-He's got a very high opinion of you, says you build the best bedbugs in
-the business."
-
-I find it hard to believe that Len Ellsom would say anything really
-nice about me. Must be his guilt about Marilyn that makes him talk that
-way. I don't like his hanging around Kujack.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_October 25, 1959_
-
-The boss came along on our woodcutting expedition this morning and
-volunteered to work the other end of my two-handled saw. He asked how
-things were coming in the Pro lab.
-
-"As I see it," I said, "there are two sides to the problem, the
-kinesthetic and the neural. We're making definite progress on the K
-side--I've worked out a new solenoid system, with some miniature motors
-tied in, and I think it'll give us a leg that _moves_ damned well. I
-don't know about the N side, though. It's pretty tough figuring out
-how to hook the thing up electrically with the central nervous system
-so that the brain can control it. Some sort of compromise system of
-operation, along mechanical rather than neural lines, would be a lot
-simpler."
-
-"You mean," the boss said with a smile, "that it's stumping you."
-
-I was relieved to see him taking it so well because I know how anxious
-he is to get results from the Pro lab. Since Pro is one of the few
-things going on at IFACS that can be talked about, he's impatient for
-us to come up with something he can release to the press. As the public
-relations officer explained it to me at dinner the other night, people
-get worried when they know there's something like IFACS going, but
-don't get any real information about it, so the boss, naturally, wants
-to relieve the public's curiosity with a good, reassuring story about
-our work.
-
-I knew I was taking an awful chance spilling the whole K-N thing to him
-the way I did, but I had to lay the groundwork for a little plan I've
-just begun to work on.
-
-"By the way, sir," I said, "I ran into Len Ellsom the other day. I
-didn't know he was here."
-
-"Do you know him?" the boss said. "Good man. One of the best
-brains-and-games men you'll find anywhere."
-
-I explained that Len had gotten his degree at M.I.T. the year before I
-did. From what I'd heard, I added, he'd done some important work on the
-Remington-Rand ballistics computer.
-
-"He did indeed," the boss said, "but that's not the half of it. After
-that he made some major contributions to the robot chess player. As a
-matter of fact, that's why he's here."
-
-I said I hadn't heard about the chess player.
-
-"As soon as it began to play a really good game of chess, Washington
-put the whole thing under wraps for security reasons. Which is why you
-won't hear any more about it from me."
-
-I'm no Eniac, but I can occasionally put two and two together myself.
-If the boss's remarks mean anything, they mean that an electronic brain
-capable of playing games has been developed, and that it's led to
-something important militarily. Of course! I could kick myself for not
-having guessed it before.
-
-Brains-and-games--that's what MS is all about, obviously. It had to
-happen: out of the mathematical analysis of chess came a robot chess
-player, and out of the chess player came some kind of mechanical brain
-that's useful in military strategy. _That's_ what Len Ellsom's in the
-middle of.
-
-"Really brilliant mind," the boss said after we'd sawed for a while.
-"Keen. But he's a little erratic--quirky, queer sense of humor. Isn't
-that your impression?"
-
-"Definitely," I said. "I'd be the last one in the world to say a word
-against Len, but he was always a little peculiar. Very gay one moment
-and very sour the next, and inclined to poke fun at things other people
-take seriously. He used to write poetry."
-
-"I'm very glad to know that," the boss said. "Confirms my own feeling
-about him."
-
-So the boss has some doubts about Len.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_October 27, 1959_
-
-Unpleasant evening with Len. It all started after dinner when he showed
-up in my room, wagged his finger at me and said, "Ollie, you've been
-avoiding me. That hurts. Thought we were pals, thick and thin and till
-debt and death do us part."
-
-I saw immediately that he was drunk--he always gets his words mixed
-up when he's drunk--and I tried to placate him by explaining that it
-wasn't anything like that; I'd been busy.
-
-"If we're pals," he said, "come on and have a beer with me."
-
-There was no shaking him off, so I followed him down to his car and we
-drove to this sleazy little bar in the Negro part of town. As soon as
-we sat down in a booth, Len borrowed all the nickels I had, put them
-in the jukebox and pressed the levers for a lot of old Louie Armstrong
-records.
-
-"Sorry, kid," he said. "I know how you hate this real jazzy stuff, but
-can't have a reunion without music, and there isn't a polka or cowboy
-ballad or hillbilly stomp in the box. They lack the folksy touch on
-this side of the tracks." Len has always been very snobbish about my
-interest in folk music.
-
-I asked him what he'd been doing during the day.
-
-"Lushing it up," he said. "Getting stinking from drinking." He still
-likes to use the most flamboyant slang; I consider it an infantile form
-of protest against what he regards as the "genteel" manner of academic
-people. "I got sort of restless this morning, so I ducked out and beat
-it into New York and looked up my friend Steve Lundy in the Village.
-Spent the afternoon liquidating our joint assets. Liquidating our
-assets in the joints."
-
-What, I wanted to know, was he feeling restless about?
-
-"Restless for going on three years now." His face grew solemn, as
-though he were thinking it over very carefully. "I'll amend that
-statement. Hell with the Aesopian language. I've been a plain lush for
-going on three years. Ever since--"
-
-If it was something personal--I suggested.
-
-"It is _not_ something personal," he said, mimicking me. "Guess I can
-tell an old cyberneticist pal about it. Been a lush for three years
-because I've been scared for three years. Been scared for three years
-because three years ago I saw a machine beat a man at a game of chess."
-
-A machine that plays chess? That was interesting, I said.
-
-"Didn't tell you the whole truth the other day," Len mumbled. "I _did_
-work on the Remington-Rand computer, sure, but I didn't come to IFACS
-directly from that. In between I spent a couple years at the Bell
-Telephone Labs. Claude Shannon--or, rather, to begin with there was
-Norbert Wiener back at M.I.T.--it's complicated...."
-
-"Look," I said, "are you sure you want to talk about it?"
-
-"Stop wearing your loyalty oath on your sleeve," he said belligerently.
-"Sure I want to talk about it. Greatest subject I know. Begin at
-the beginning. Whole thing started back in the Thirties with those
-two refugee mathematicians who used to be here at the Institute for
-Advanced Studies when Einstein was around. Von Morgan and Neumanstern,
-no, Von _Neu_mann and _Mor_ganstern. You remember, they did a
-mathematical analysis of all the possible kinds of games, poker,
-tossing pennies, chess, bridge, everything, and they wrote up their
-findings in a volume you certainly know, _The Theory of Games_.
-
-"Well, that got Wiener started. You may remember that when he founded
-the science of cybernetics, he announced that on the basis of the
-theory of games, it was feasible to design a robot computing machine
-that would play a better than average game of chess. Right after that,
-back in '49 or maybe it was '50, Claude Shannon of the Bell Labs said
-Wiener wasn't just talking, and to prove it he was going to _build_
-the robot chess player. Which he proceeded withforth--forthwith--to
-do. Sometime in '53, I was taken off the Remington-Rand project and
-assigned to Bell to work with him."
-
-"Maybe we ought to start back," I cut in. "I've got a lot of work to
-do."
-
-"The night is young," he said, "and you're so dutiful. Where was I? Oh
-yes, Bell. At first our electronic pawn-pusher wasn't so hot--it could
-beat the pants off a lousy player, but an expert just made it look
-silly. But we kept improving it, see, building more and more electronic
-anticipation and gambit-plotting powers into it, and finally, one great
-day in '55, we thought we had all the kinks ironed out and were ready
-for the big test. By this time, of course, Washington had stepped in
-and taken over the whole project.
-
-"Well, we got hold of Fortunescu, the world's champion chess player,
-sat him down and turned the robot loose on him. For four hours straight
-we followed the match, with a delegation of big brass from Washington,
-and for four hours straight the machine trounced Fortunescu every game.
-That was when I began to get scared. I went out that night and got
-really loaded."
-
-What had he been so scared about? It seemed to me he should have felt
-happy.
-
-"Listen, Ollie," he said, "for Christ's sake, stop talking like a Boy
-Scout for once in your life."
-
-If he was going to insult me--
-
-"No insult intended. Just listen. I'm a terrible chess player. Any
-five-year-old could chatemeck--checkmate--me with his brains tied
-behind his back. But this machine which I built, helped build, is the
-champion chess player of the world. In other words, my brain has given
-birth to a brain which can do things my brain could never do. Don't you
-find that terrifying?"
-
-"Not at all," I said. "_You_ made the machine, didn't you? Therefore,
-no matter what it does, it's only an extension of you. You should feel
-proud to have devised a powerful new tool."
-
-"Some tool," he sneered. He was so drunk by now that I could hardly
-understand what he was saying. "The General Staff boys in Washington
-were all hopped up about that little old tool, and for a plenty good
-reason--they understood that mechanized warfare is only the most
-complicated game the human race has invented so far, an elaborate form
-of chess which uses the population of the world for pawns and the
-globe for a chessboard. They saw, too, that when the game of war gets
-this complex, the job of controlling and guiding it becomes too damned
-involved for any number of human brains, no matter how nimble.
-
-"In other words, my beamish Boy Scout, modern war needs just this kind
-of strategy tool; the General Staff has to be mechanized along with
-everything else. So the Pentagon boys set up IFACS and handed us a
-top-priority cybernetics project: to build a superduper chess player
-that could oversee a complicated military maneuver, maybe later a whole
-campaign, maybe ultimately a whole global war.
-
-"We're aiming at a military strategy machine which can digest reports
-from all the units on all the fronts and from moment to moment, on
-the basis of that steady stream of information, grind out an elastic
-overall strategy and dictate concrete tactical directives to all the
-units. Wiener warned this might happen, and he was right. A very nifty
-tool. Never mind how far we've gotten with the thing, but I will tell
-you this: I'm a lot more scared today than I was three years ago."
-
-So _that_ was the secret of MS! The most extraordinary machine ever
-devised by the human mind! It was hard to conceal the thrill of
-excitement I felt, even as a relative outsider.
-
-"Why all the jitters?" I said. "This could be the most wonderful tool
-ever invented. It might eliminate war altogether."
-
-Len was quiet for a while, gulping his beer and looking off into space.
-Then he turned to me.
-
-"Steve Lundy has a cute idea," he said. "He was telling me about it
-this afternoon. He's a bum, you see, but he's got a damned good mind
-and he's done a lot of reading. Among other things, he's smart enough
-to see that once you've got your theory of games worked out, there's
-at least the logical possibility of converting your Eniac into what
-he calls a Strategy Integrator and Computer. And he's guessed, simply
-from the Pentagon's hush-hush policy about it, that that's what we're
-working on here at IFACS. So he holds forth on the subject of Emsiac,
-and I listen."
-
-"What's his idea?" I asked.
-
-"He thinks Emsiac might eliminate war, too, but not in the way a
-Boy Scout might think. What he says is that all the industrialized
-nations must be working away like mad on Emsiac, just as they did on
-the atom bomb, so let's assume that before long all the big countries
-will have more or less equal MS machines. All right. A cold war gets
-under way between countries A and B, and pretty soon it reaches the
-showdown stage. Then both countries plug in their Emsiacs and let them
-calculate the date on which hostilities should begin. If the machines
-are equally efficient, they'll hit on the same date. If there's a
-slight discrepancy, the two countries can work out a compromise date by
-negotiation.
-
-"The day arrives. A's Emsiac is set up in its capital, B's is set up
-in _its_ capital. In each capital the citizens gather around their
-strategy machine, the officials turn out in high hats and cut-aways,
-there are speeches, pageants, choral singing, mass dancing--the ritual
-can be worked out in advance. Then, at an agreed time, the crowds
-retreat to a safe distance and a committee of the top cyberneticists
-appears. They climb into planes, take off and--this is beautiful--drop
-all their atom bombs and H-bombs on the machines. It happens
-simultaneously in both countries, you see. That's the neat part of it.
-The occasion is called International Mushroom Day.
-
-"Then the cyberneticists in both countries go back to their vacuum
-tubes to work on another Emsiac, and the nuclear physicists go back to
-their piles to build more atom bombs, and when they're ready they have
-another Mushroom Day. One Mushroom Day every few years, whenever the
-diplomatic-strategic situation calls for it, and nobody even fires a
-B-B gun. Scientific war. Isn't it wonderful?"
-
- * * * * *
-
-By the time Len finished this peculiar speech, I'd finally managed to
-get him out of the tavern and back into his car. I started to drive him
-back to the Institute, my ears still vibrating with the hysterical
-yelps of Armstrong's trumpet. I'll never for the life of me understand
-what Len sees in that kind of music. It seems to me such an unhealthy
-sort of expression.
-
-"Lundy's being plain silly," I couldn't help saying. "What guarantee
-has he got that on your Mushroom Day, Country B wouldn't make a great
-display of destroying one Emsiac and one set of bombs while it had
-others in hiding? It's too great a chance for A to take--she might be
-throwing away all her defenses and laying herself wide open to attack."
-
-"See what I mean?" Len muttered. "You're a Boy Scout." Then he passed
-out, without saying a word about Marilyn. Hard to tell if he sees
-anything of her these days. He _does_ see some pretty peculiar people,
-though. I'd like to know more about this Steve Lundy.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_November 2, 1959_
-
-I've done it! Today I split up the lab into two entirely independent
-operations, K and N. Did it all on my own authority, haven't breathed a
-word about it to the boss yet. Here's my line of reasoning.
-
-On the K end, we can get results, and fast: if it's just a matter
-of building a pro that works like the real leg, regardless of what
-_makes_ it work, it's a cinch. But if it has to be worked by the
-brain, through the spinal cord, the job is just about impossible. Who
-knows if we'll ever learn enough about neuro tissue to build our own
-physico-chemico-electrical substitutes for it?
-
-As I proved in my robot moths and bedbugs, I can work up electronic
-circuits that seem to duplicate one particular function of animal
-nerve tissue--one robot is attracted to light like a moth, the other
-is repelled by light like a bedbug--but I don't know how to go about
-duplicating the tissue itself in all its functions. And until we can
-duplicate nerve tissue, there's no way to provide our artificial limbs
-with a neuro-motor system that can be hooked up with the central
-nervous system. The best I can do along those lines is ask Kujack to
-kick and get a wriggle of the big toe instead.
-
-So the perspective is clear. Mechanically, kinesthetically,
-motorically, I can manufacture a hell of a fine leg. Neurally, it would
-take decades, centuries maybe, to get even a reasonable facsimile of
-the original--and maybe it will never happen. It's not a project I'd
-care to devote my life to. If Len Ellsom had been working on that sort
-of thing, he wouldn't have gotten his picture in the paper so often,
-you can be sure.
-
-So, in line with this perspective, I've divided the whole operation
-into two separate labs, K-Pro and N-Pro. I'm taking charge of K-Pro
-myself, since it intrigues me more and I've got these ideas about
-using solenoids to get lifelike movements. With any kind of luck I'll
-soon have a peach of a mechanical limb, motor-driven and with its own
-built-in power plant, operated by push-button. Before Christmas, I hope.
-
-Got just the right man to take over the neuro lab--Goldweiser, my
-assistant. I weighed the thing from every angle before I made up my
-mind, since his being Jewish makes the situation very touchy: some
-people will be snide enough to say I picked him to be a potential
-scapegoat. Well, Goldweiser, no matter what his origins may be, is the
-best neuro man I know.
-
-Of course, personally--although my personal feelings don't enter into
-the picture at all--I _am_ just a bit leery of the fellow. Have been
-ever since that first log-cutting expedition, when he began to talk in
-such a peculiar way about needing to relax and then laughed so hard
-at Len's jokes. That sort of talk always indicates to me a lack of
-reverence for your job: if a thing's worth doing at all, etc.
-
-Of course, I don't mean that Goldweiser's cynical attitude has anything
-to do with his being Jewish; Len's got the same attitude and he's
-_not_ Jewish. Still, this afternoon, when I told Goldweiser he's going
-to head up the N-Pro lab, he sort of bowed and said, "That's quite a
-promotion. I always did want to be God."
-
-I didn't like that remark at all. If I'd had another neuro man as good
-as he is, I'd have withdrawn the promotion immediately. It's his luck
-that I'm tolerant, that's all.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_November 6, 1959_
-
-Lunch with Len today, at my invitation. Bought him several Martinis,
-then brought up Lundy's name and asked who he was, he sounded
-interesting.
-
-"Steve?" Len said. "I roomed with him my first year in New York."
-
-I asked what Steve did, exactly.
-
-"Reads, mostly. He got into the habit back in the 30s, when he was
-studying philosophy at the University of Chicago. When the Civil War
-broke out in Spain, he signed up with the Lincoln Brigade and went over
-there to fight, but it turned out to be a bad mistake. His reading got
-him in a lot of trouble, you see; he'd gotten used to asking all sorts
-of questions, so when the Moscow Trials came along, he asked about
-them. Then the N.K.V.D. began to pop up all over Spain, and he asked
-about it.
-
-"His comrades, he discovered, didn't like guys who kept asking
-questions. In fact, a couple of Steve's friends who had also had an
-inquiring streak were found dead at the front, shot in the _back_,
-and Steve got the idea that he was slated for the same treatment.
-It seemed that people who asked questions were called saboteurs,
-Trotskyite-Fascists or something, and they kept dying at an alarming
-rate."
-
-I ordered another Martini for Len and asked how Steve had managed to
-save himself.
-
-"He beat it across the mountains into France," Len explained. "Since
-then he's steered clear of causes. He goes to sea once in a while
-to make a few bucks, drinks a lot, reads a lot, asks some of the
-shrewdest questions I know. If he's anything you can put a label on,
-I'd say he was a touch of Rousseau, a touch of Tolstoi, plenty of
-Voltaire. Come to think of it, a touch of Norbert Wiener too. Wiener,
-you may remember, used to ask some damned iconoclastic questions for a
-cyberneticist. Steve knows Wiener's books by heart."
-
-Steve sounded like a very colorful fellow, I suggested.
-
-"Yep," Len said. "Marilyn used to think so." I don't think I moved a
-muscle when he said it; the smile didn't leave my face. "Ollie," Len
-went on, "I've been meaning to speak to you about Marilyn. Now that the
-subject's come up--"
-
-"I've forgotten all about it," I assured him.
-
-"I still want to set you straight," he insisted. "It must have looked
-funny, me moving down to New York after commencement and Marilyn giving
-up her job in the lab and following two days later. But never mind
-_how_ it looked. I never made a pass at her all that time in Boston,
-Ollie. That's the truth. But she was a screwy, scatter-brained dame and
-she decided she was stuck on me because I dabbled in poetry and hung
-around with artists and such in the Village, and she thought it was all
-so glamorous. I didn't have anything to do with her chasing down to New
-York, no kidding. You two were sort of engaged, weren't you?"
-
-"It really doesn't matter," I said. "You don't have to explain." I
-finished my drink. "You say she knew Lundy?"
-
-"Sure, she knew Lundy. She also knew Kram, Rossard, Broyold, Boster, De
-Kroot and Hayre. She knew a whole lot of guys before she was through."
-
-"She always was sociable."
-
-"You don't get my meaning," Len said. "I am not talking about Marilyn's
-gregarious impulses. Listen. First she threw herself at me, but I got
-tired of her. Then she threw herself at Steve and _he_ got tired of
-her. Damn near the whole male population of the Village got tired of
-her in the next couple years."
-
-"Those were troubled times. The war and all."
-
-"They were troubled times," Len agreed, "and she was the source of
-a fair amount of the trouble. You were well rid of her, Ollie, take
-my word for it. God save us from the intense Boston female who goes
-bohemian--the icicle parading as the torch."
-
-"Just as a matter of academic curiosity," I said as we were leaving,
-"what became of her?"
-
-"I don't know for sure. During her Village phase she decided her
-creative urge was hampered by compasses and T-squares, and in
-between men she tried to do a bit of painting--very abstract, very
-imitative-original, very hammy. I heard later that she finally gave up
-the self-expression kick, moved up to the East Seventies somewhere. If
-I remember, she got a job doing circuit designing on some project for
-I.B.M."
-
-"She's probably doing well at it," I said. "She certainly knew her
-drafting. You know, she helped lay out the circuits for the first robot
-bedbug I ever built."
-
- * * * * *
-
-_November 19, 1959_
-
-Big step forward, if it isn't unseemly to use a phrase like that in
-connection with Pro research. This afternoon we completed the first
-two experimental models of my self-propelled solenoid legs, made of
-transparent plastic so everything is visible--solenoids, batteries,
-motors, thyratron tubes and transistors.
-
-Kujack was waiting in the fitting room to give them their first tryout,
-but when I got there I found Len sitting with him. There were several
-empty beer cans on the floor and they were gabbing away a mile a minute.
-
-Len _knows_ how I hate to see people drinking during working hours.
-When I put the pros down and began to rig them for fitting, he said
-conspiratorially, "Shall we tell him?"
-
-Kujack was pretty crocked, too. "Let's tell him," he whispered back.
-Strange thing about Kujack, he hardly ever says a word to me, but he
-never closes his mouth when Len's around.
-
-"All right," Len said. "_You_ tell him. Tell him how we're going to
-bring peace on Earth and good will toward bedbugs."
-
-"We just figured it out," Kujack said. "What's wrong with war. It's a
-steamroller."
-
-"Steamrollers are very undemocratic," Len added. "Never consult people
-on how they like to be flattened before flattening them. They just go
-rolling along."
-
-"Just go rolling, they go on rolling along," Kujack said. "Like Old Man
-River."
-
-"What's the upshot?" Len demanded. "People get upshot, shot up. In all
-countries, all of them without exception, they emerge from the war
-spiritually flattened, a little closer to the insects--like the hero in
-that Kafka story who wakes up one morning to find he's a bedbug, I mean
-beetle. All because they've been steamrolled. Nobody consulted them."
-
-"Take the case of an amputee," Kujack said. "Before the land mine
-exploded, it didn't stop and say, 'Look, friend, I've got to go off;
-that's my job. Choose which part you'd prefer to have blown off--arm,
-leg, ear, nose, or what-have-you. Or is there somebody else around who
-would relish being clipped more than you would? If so, just send him
-along. I've got to do some clipping, you see, but it doesn't matter
-much which part of which guy I clip, so long as I make my quota.' Did
-the land mine say that? No! The victim wasn't consulted. Consequently
-he can feel victimized, full of self-pity. We just worked it out."
-
-"The whole thing," Len said. "If the population had been polled
-according to democratic procedure, the paraplegia and other maimings
-could have been distributed to each according to his psychological
-need. See the point? Marx corrected by Freud, as Steve Lundy would
-say. Distribute the injuries to each according to his need--not his
-economic need, but his masochistic need. Those with a special taste
-for self-damage obviously should be allowed a lion's share of it. That
-way nobody could claim he'd been victimized by the steamroller or got
-anything he didn't ask for. It's all on a voluntary basis, you see.
-Democratic."
-
-"Whole new concept of war," Kujack agreed. "Voluntary amputeeism,
-voluntary paraplegia, voluntary everything else that usually happens to
-people in a war. Just to get some human dignity back into the thing."
-
-"Here's how it works," Len went on. "Country A and Country B reach the
-breaking point. It's all over but the shooting. All right. So they pool
-their best brains, mathematicians, actuaries, strategists, logistics
-geniuses, and all. What am I saying? They pool their best _robot_
-brains, their Emsiacs. In a matter of seconds they figure out, down
-to the last decimal point, just how many casualties each side can be
-expected to suffer in dead and wounded, and then they break down the
-figures. Of the wounded, they determine just how many will lose eyes,
-how many arms, how many legs, and so on down the line. Now--here's
-where it gets really neat--each country, having established its
-quotas in dead and wounded of all categories, can send out a call for
-volunteers."
-
-"Less messy that way," Kujack said. "An efficiency expert's war. War on
-an actuarial basis."
-
-"You get exactly the same results as in a shooting war," Len insisted.
-"Just as many dead, wounded and psychologically messed up. But you
-avoid the whole steamroller effect. A tidy war, war with dispatch,
-conceived in terms of ends rather than means. The end never did justify
-the means, you see; Steve Lundy says that was always the great dilemma
-of politics. So with one fool sweep--fell swoop--we get rid of means
-entirely."
-
-"As things stand with me," Kujack said, "if _anything_ stands with me,
-I might get to feeling sore about what happened to me. But nothing
-happens _to_ the volunteer amputee. He steps up to the operating
-table and says, 'Just chop off one arm, Doc, the left one, please,
-up to the elbow if you don't mind, and in return put me down for
-one-and-two-thirds free meals daily at Longchamps and a plump blonde
-every Saturday.'"
-
-"Or whatever the exchange value for one slightly used left arm would
-be," Len amended. "That would have to be worked out by the robot
-actuaries."
-
-By this time I had the pros fitted and the push-button controls
-installed in the side pocket of Kujack's jacket.
-
-"Maybe you'd better go now, Len," I said. I was very careful to show no
-reaction to his baiting. "Kujack and I have some work to do."
-
-"I hope you'll make him a moth instead of a bedbug," Len said as he got
-up. "Kujack's just beginning to see the light. Be a shame if you give
-him a negative tropism to it instead of a positive one." He turned to
-Kujack, wobbling a little. "So long, kid. I'll pick you up at seven and
-we'll drive into New York to have a few with Steve. He's going to be
-very happy to hear we've got the whole thing figured out."
-
-I spent two hours with Kujack, getting him used to the extremely
-delicate push-button controls. I must say that, drunk or sober,
-he's a very apt pupil. In less than two hours he actually walked! A
-little unsteadily, to be sure, but his balance will get better as he
-practices and I iron out a few more bugs, and I _don't_ mean bedbugs.
-
-For a final test, I put a little egg cup on the floor, balanced a
-football in it, and told Kujack to try a place kick. What a moment! He
-booted that ball so hard, it splintered the mirror on the wall.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_November 27, 1959_
-
-Long talk with the boss. I gave it to him straight about breaking up
-the lab into K-Pro and N-Pro, and about there being little chance that
-Goldweiser would come up with anything much on the neuro end for a
-long, long time. He was awfully let down, I could see, so I started to
-talk fast about the luck I'd been having on the kinesthetic end. When
-he began to perk up, I called Kujack in from the corridor and had him
-demonstrate his place kick.
-
-He's gotten awfully good at it this past week.
-
-"If we release the story to the press," I suggested, "this might make
-a fine action shot. You see, Kujack used to be one of the best kickers
-in the Big Ten, and a lot of newspapermen will still remember him."
-Then I sprang the biggest news of all. "During the last three days of
-practice, sir, he's been consistently kicking the ball twenty, thirty
-and even forty yards farther than he ever did with his own legs. Than
-anybody, as a matter of fact, ever has with real legs."
-
-"That's a wonderful angle," the boss said excitedly. "A world's record,
-made with a cybernetic leg!"
-
-"It should make a terrific picture," Kujack said. "I've also been
-practicing a big, broad, photogenic grin." Luckily the boss didn't hear
-him--by this time he was bending over the legs, studying the solenoids.
-
-After Kujack left, the boss congratulated me. Very, _very_ warmly. It
-was a most gratifying moment. We chatted for a while, making plans for
-the press conference, and then finally he said, "By the way, do you
-happen to know anything about your friend Ellsom? I'm worried about
-him. He went off on Thanksgiving and hasn't been heard from at all ever
-since."
-
-That was alarming, I said. When the boss asked why, I told him a
-little about how Len had been acting lately, talking and drinking more
-than was good for him. With all sorts of people. The boss said that
-confirmed his own impressions.
-
-I can safely say we understood each other. I sensed a very definite
-rapport.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_November 30, 1959_
-
-It was bound to happen, of course. As I got it from the boss, he
-decided after our talk that Len's absence needed some looking into, and
-he tipped off Security about it. A half dozen agents went to work on
-the case and right off they headed for Steve Lundy's apartment in the
-Village and, sure enough, there was Len.
-
-Len and his friend were both blind drunk and there were all sorts of
-incriminating things in the room--lots of peculiar books and pamphlets,
-Lundy's identification papers from the Lincoln Brigade, an article
-Lundy was writing for an anarchist-pacifist magazine about what he
-calls Emsiac. Len and his friend were both arrested on the spot and a
-full investigation is going on now.
-
-The boss says that no matter whether Len is brought to trial or not,
-he's all washed up. He'll never get a job on any classified cybernetics
-project from now on, because it's clear enough that he violated his
-loyalty oath by discussing MS all over the place.
-
-The Security men came around to question me this morning. Afraid my
-testimony didn't help Len's case any. What could I do? I had to own up
-that, to my knowledge, Len had violated Security on three counts: he'd
-discussed MS matters with Kujack in my presence, with Lundy (according
-to what he told me), and of course with me (I am technically an
-outsider, too). I also pointed out that I'd tried to make him shut up,
-but there was no stopping him once he got going. Damn that Len, anyhow.
-Why does he have to go and put me in this ethical spot? It shows a lack
-of consideration.
-
-These Security men can be _too_ thorough. Right off they wanted to pick
-up Kujack as well.
-
-I got hold of the boss and explained that if they took Kujack away we'd
-have to call off our press conference, because it would take months to
-fit and train another subject.
-
-The boss immediately saw the injustice of the thing, stepped in and got
-Security to calm down, at least until we finish our demonstration.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_December 23, 1959_
-
-What a day! The press conference this afternoon was _something_. Dozens
-of reporters and photographers and newsreel men showed up, and we took
-them all out to the football field for the demonstrations. First the
-boss gave a little orientation talk about cybernetics being teamwork in
-science, and about the difference between K-Pro and N-Pro, pointing
-out that from the practical, humanitarian angle of helping the amputee,
-K is a lot more important than N.
-
-The reporters tried to get in some questions about MS, but he parried
-them very good-humoredly, and he said some nice things about me, some
-very nice things indeed.
-
-Then Kujack was brought in. He really went through his paces, walking,
-running, skipping, jumping and everything. It was damned impressive.
-And then, to top off the show, Kujack place-kicked a football
-ninety-three yards by actual measurement, a world's record, and
-everybody went wild.
-
-Afterward Kujack and I posed for the newsreels, shaking hands while the
-boss stood with his arms around us. They're going to play the whole
-thing up as IFACS' Christmas present to one of our gallant war heroes
-(just what the boss wanted: he figures this sort of things makes IFACS
-sound so much less grim to the public), and Kujack was asked to say
-something in line with that idea.
-
-"I never could kick this good with my real legs," he said, holding my
-hand tight and looking straight at me. "Gosh, this is just about the
-nicest Christmas present a fellow could get. Thank you, Santa."
-
-I thought he was overdoing it a bit toward the end there, but the
-newsreel men say they think it's a great sentimental touch.
-
-Goldweiser was in the crowd, and he said, "I only hope that when _I_
-prove I'm God, this many photographers will show up." That's just about
-the kind of remark I'd expect from Goldweiser.
-
-Too bad the Security men are coming for Kujack tomorrow. The boss
-couldn't argue. After all, they were patient enough to wait until after
-the tests and demonstration, which the boss and I agree was white of
-them. It's not as if Kujack isn't deeply involved in this Ellsom-Lundy
-case. As the boss says, you can tell a man by the company, etc.
-
- * * * * *
-
-_December 25, 1959_
-
-Spent the morning clipping pictures and articles from the papers; they
-gave us _quite_ a spread. Late in the afternoon I went over to the
-boss's house for eggnogs, and I finally got up the nerve to say what's
-been on my mind for over a month now. Strike while the iron's, etc.
-
-"I've been thinking, sir," I said, "that this solenoid system I've
-worked out for Pros has other applications. For example, it could
-easily be adapted to some of the tricky mechanical aspects of an
-electronic calculator." I went into some of the technical details
-briefly, and I could see he was interested. "I'd like very much to work
-on that, now that K-Pro is licked, more or less. And if there _is_ an
-opening in MS--"
-
-"You're a go-getter," the boss said, nodding in a pleased way. He was
-looking at a newspaper lying on the coffee table; on the front page was
-a large picture of Kujack grinning at me and shaking my hand. "I like
-that. I can't promise anything, but let me think about it."
-
-I think I'm in!
-
- * * * * *
-
-_December 27, 1959_
-
-Sent the soup-and-fish out be cleaned and pressed. Looks like I'm going
-to get some use out of it, after all. We're having a big formal New
-Year's Eve party in the commons room and there's going to be square
-dancing, swing-your-partner, and all of that. When I called Marilyn,
-she sounded very friendly--she remembered to call me Oliver, and I was
-flattered that she did--and said she'd be delighted to come. Seems
-she's gotten very fond of folk dancing lately.
-
-Gosh, it'll be good to get out of these dungarees for a while. I'm
-happy to say I still look good in formals. Marilyn ought to be quite
-impressed. Len always wore his like pajamas.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Self Portrait, by Bernard Wolfe
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