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“Why are you working on his childhood — when it is the adult we need to answer our questions?”

“Because the old expression about the child being the father of the man is quite true. There is no way we can restore the higher level brain connections until the lower levels begin to operate. This means that the enormous structure of the human mind can be rebuilt only from the bottom up — in much the same way it was built in the first place…”

“When you say building a mind — built of what?”

“The mind is made of many small parts, each mindless by itself. We call these basic parts agents. Each agent by itself can only do some simple thing that needs no mind or thought at all. But when the agents get connected up, in certain very social ways, they work together as societies — -that’s how intelligence emerges from non-intelligence.

“Fortunately, most of the agents themselves are okay, because their brain cells are located in the uninjured gray matter. But most of the connections between the agents thread their way through the brain’s white matter — and too many of those connections have been severed. That is where I am now. Locating and reconnecting large numbers of the simplest agents, at the sensory and motor levels. If I can reconstruct enough of the society of agents formed during each stage of Brian’s development, that will give me a foundation for repairing the structures that were formed in his next period. Stage after stage. Layer after layer. And the different kinds of cross-connections between them. While at the same time I have to restore the feedback loops between the agents at each level, as well as the systems in other parts of the brain that control reasoning and learning. These different kinds of loops and rings are crucial because they are what supports the thoughtful and reflective activity that distinguishes human from animal thinking. At the present time I am almost at the end of this first period of rebuilding. In a few days I will know if I have succeeded or not.”

Benicoff shook his head in wonderment. “You are getting me used to thinking the unthinkable as a daily habit. What you are doing is so new, so different, that I find it basically — I’m sorry to say this — incomprehensible. That you can enter Brian’s head, listen to his thoughts and repair the damage done! Better you than me. Does he feel anything while you are doing this?”

Snaresbrook shrugged. “There is really no way to tell. I suppose the experience will be indescribable because it is happening to a mind that is not yet human. My personal belief, however, is that while his brain is being reconstructed his mind might very well be retracing and reliving the important early events of his life.”

* * *

Dolly could hear the clatter of computer keys as she came down the hall; she smiled. Brian was usually alone so much, it was nice to see him with a school friend.

“Anyone for a fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookie?” she said, holding out the plate. Kim squeaked with pleasure.

“Me for one, Mrs. Delaney. Thanks!”

“Brian?”

“Finish this first,” he muttered. “Come on, Kim. It would be a lot better if you did this before you take a break. You are just beginning to understand what basis vectors are.”

“We can finish it later. Take one.”

Brian sighed and pushed one of the still-warm cookies into his mouth. “Good,” he spluttered.

“I’ll get some cold milk to go with that.”

When Dolly brought the tray with the filled glasses she had her purse with her. “I’ve got to go to the market and it is going to be crowded. Which means I’ll be late and your father will be upset if he gets in before I do. Tell him that dinner will be at six like always and it’s ready for the microwave now. You won’t forget?”

Brian shook his head and drained the glass as Dolly left. He put it down and turned back to the computer. “Now to pick up where we left off.”

“No!” Kim said. “We’re taking a break, remember?” She pushed the books aside and dropped onto the bed, punched his pillow into a mound and settled it behind her back. “A break is a break — and you have to learn that.”

“Work is work and you have to learn that. Just look at your term paper, for instance.” He spun his revolving chair about and punched the scroll button. The copy flipped by in the screen, most of it white letters against red blocks. “Do you see all the red copy? You know what it means?”

“You had a nosebleed?”

“You ought to take this seriously, Kim. You know that I’ve been helping you with this paper for Bastard Betser, adding bits and straightening it out when you get it wrong. Just for the heck of it I wanted to check up on my input and started marking off the blocks of what I was doing in red, all the corrections and changes that I had made. There is sure a lot more red than white here.”

“There is a lot more to the world than AI. Since you are standing up, bring me over a cookie.”

“You’re going to flunk this course.” He got up and passed her the plate.

“Big deal. So maybe I flunk out of school altogether and marry a millionaire and travel around the world on my own yacht.”

“You talk big for a Redneck from the Rigs. I bet you’ve never even been ashore.”

“I have been around, leetle man, I have been around.” She licked the chocolate from her fingertips and half closed her eyes, spoke huskily in a fake French accent. “I have zeen zee world, have driven ziz prince mad with passion.”

“Mad with boredom! You’ve got a good mind, Kim. You just don’t like to use it.”

“Mind! Enough zee mind. What about zee body?”

She pulled at the top of her blouse to disclose her cleavage. Pulled a little too enthusiastically and the blouse opened wide disclosing one bare breast, a sweet pink nipple. She giggled as she buttoned the blouse.

“I drive zee men mad…”

Her voice died away as she saw the effect the accident had had on Brian. His skin had gone pale, his eyes wide.

“Relax,” she said. “You’ve seen lots of bare skin before down on flesh beach where all the kooks hang out.”

“I’ve never been there,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Well I don’t blame you. Some pretty ugly guys and gals are naturists.” She looked up at him and arched her eyebrows. “Hey, how old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

She bounced up onto her knees and looked him in the eye. “You’re as tall as I am and not too bad looking. Ever kissed a girl?”

“Let’s go to work,” he said uncomfortably as he turned away. She took him by the shoulder and pulled him back. “That’s no answer — and I know you know about girls because I found some old Playboys under your bed — with scorch tracks that your eyes had left on all the centerfold nudes. Maybe you know what they look like — but I’ll bet dollars to dongles that you are sweet thirteen and have never been kissed — so you’re going to learn now.”

Brian did not pull away when she took his head gently in her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers. She made a happy humming sound and let her tongue drift inside his lips, felt his hands harden on her back. She moved her hand down; that wasn’t the only thing that was hard.

She opened his belt.

What Brian could not understand was why everyone didn’t know what had happened just by looking at him. It was so momentous, earth-shattering, that it must show on his face. Whenever he thought about it he could feel his skin glow with the strength of his memories. Kim was gone by the time Dolly came home; he heard his father arrive a few minutes later. He stayed in his room as long as he could, waiting until he was called a second time for dinner.