Brian seemed to take his uploaded, transplanted memories for granted — but not Snaresbrook. Her hands were shaking so hard that she had to bring them together. Brian had used the CPU implant to interface with his own memories. There really was an internal man-machine interface in operation.
16
November 14, 2023
The rest area of the tenth floor of the hospital was more like a roof garden than a balcony. A marine guard at the door checked Benicoff’s ID before he let him proceed between the potted palms. Brian was sitting with his head in the shade of the beach umbrella; he had managed to sunburn his face by falling asleep in the sun the previous day and didn’t want a rerun. He looked up from his book and waved.
“Good to see you, Ben.”
“Likewise — though you are not going to like the news. There won’t be any court order for those data bases of yours. In recent years the tightening up of the secrecy laws has ruled out access of this kind. If you were dead it would be different.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Every once in a while someone gets killed in a car accident and leaves no record of his access codes. There has to be hearings, proof of relationship, a lot of work is needed to get a court order, let me tell you. And there are no exceptions to this.”
“Then what can I do?”
“Go physically to the data base. Prove that you are you and then it is up to the company to decide if they will release the material or not. And that is going to be tricky.”
“Why?”
“Because — and I am deadly serious — the company with your files is not in the country. It’s in Mexico.”
“You’re having me on!”
“I wish I were. The company is in Tijuana. Salaries are still cheaper there. That’s just across the border, about twelve miles from here. Lots of American electronic assembly plants there. This company was probably founded to service them. Should we start thinking about a trip down there?”
“No, not for the moment.”
“That’s what I thought you would say.” Benicoff smiled at Brian’s look of surprise. “Because I understood that your military legal eagle has the Megalobe lawyers running in circles and screaming in pain. They’ll come around in the end. I’ve gone upstairs about this. So now there is pressure on the military to pressure the company to come up with a new contract.”
“Upstairs — talking to God?”
“Almost. And I figured you weren’t going to look at those files until your future was set.”
“You’re one step ahead of me.”
“Not hard to outwit a fourteen-year-old!”
“Brag, brag. This is one fourteen-year-old that has developed a taste for beer. Join me?”
“Sure. As long as it’s Bohemia ale.”
“I don’t know that one.”
“From Mexico, since we are talking about that country. I think that you’ll like it.”
Brian phoned down and a mess attendant brought the beers. He smacked his lips and drank deep.
“Good stuff. Have you talked to Doc Snaresbrook lately?”
“This morning. She says that you are going stir-crazy here and want to crack out. But she wants you in the hospital for another week at least.”
“That’s what she told me. No problem — I guess.”
“I suppose you are going to ask me next if you can go to Mexico.”
“Ben — is this your mind-reading day?”
“Not hard to do. You want security for those files — and so do we. Phone lines can be tapped, data copied. And GRAMs can go astray in the mail.”
“GRAM? Don’t you mean DRAM?”
“A thing of the past. Dynamic random-access memory is now as dead as the dodo. These gigabyte ERAMs are static, no need for batteries, and have so much memory that they are replacing CDs and digital audiotape. With the new semantic compression techniques they’ll soon replace videotapes as well.”
“I want to see one of them.”
“You will as soon as the trip can be arranged. And I am also not going to embarrass you, force you to say no, by offering to go there in your place. I’ve talked to various security people about this already.”
“I’m sure that it made them deliriously happy to even think about me leaving the country.”
“You better believe it! But when the shouting died down it turned out that the FBI has an ongoing agreement with the Mexican government about this kind of thing. There is a regular trade in going down there after drug money and computer records — usually in banks. Special armed Secret Service officers will accompany us all of the way. Mexican police will join us at the border and will bring us back to the States afterwards.”
“So I can go there and retrieve my files?”
Benicoff nodded. “Just as soon as the doctor says you’re fit. And it will be more like an invasion than you strolling across the border on your own. You’ll be escorted all the way there and home again.”
“And the files — will they be taken away from me?”
“You have a nasty and suspicious mind, Brian Delaney. What’s yours is yours. But — and I’m just guessing now — this trip will probably be difficult, it not impossible, to set up until you have signed a new contract with Megalobe. The government does have an investment to protect.”
“And if I don’t agree to the contract — I don’t go?”
“You said it — not me.”
Brian had to think about this. He finished his beer and shook his head no when Ben offered another one. Once before in his life he had tried to develop AI on his own; the records he had gone through showed that. Showed that he went broke too and had to sign that Mickey Mouse contract with Megalobe. If you can’t learn by experience you can’t learn. If he was fated to relive this part of his life he was certainly going to do a better job of it the second time around.
“It all depends on my new employment contract,” he finally said. “If it is fair then we retrieve the file and I go back to work for Megalobe. Okay?”
“Sounds like a winner. I’ll start setting things up.”
Benicoff was scarcely out the door when Brian’s phone rang; he picked it up.
“Who? Of course. Yes, she has clearance, check with Dr. Snaresbrook if there is any doubt. She has been here before. Right. Then please send her up.”
A marine guard brought Dolly in. Brian climbed to his feet and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“You’re looking a lot better, filling out,” she said, looking at him with the exacting eye of maternal scrutiny, then holding out a package. “I hope you still like these — I baked them this morning.”
“Not chocolate-chip cookies!” Brian tore open the wrapper and bit into one. “Always my favorite, Dolly, many thanks.”
“And how are things going?”
“Couldn’t be better. I’ll be able to get out of the hospital in a week. And the chances are I’ll be getting back to work as soon after that as I can manage.”
“Work? I thought that your memory, that was the trouble.”
“It shouldn’t be a hindrance. If I find any gaps when I start on the research — well, I’ll face that if and when it comes up. When I actually start working again I’ll quickly find out how much I have forgotten.”
“You’re not going to do that artificial intelligence thing anymore?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
Dolly leaned back in her chair, twisting her fingers together. “You don’t have to. Please, Brian. You tried once and look where it got you. Perhaps you’re not destined to succeed.”