When HARLIE Was One Read Online Free PDF Page B

Handley. Handley shrugged.
    â€œOkay. The question is . . .” Auberson mused aloud, “Is this conscious or not. And if it is . . .” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He let it drop.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  IMAGES UPON MY SCREEN
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  FLICKER BRIGHTLY IN-BETWEEN
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  THE THOUGHTS OF MAN AND HUMACHINE.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  YOU WONDER WHY I WANT TO SCAN MY SCANNER.
    Auberson leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “The subject of today’s study was . . . ?”
    â€œArt. The concept of beauty. What makes something beautiful? Conceptualization. Experience. The use of symbolism.”
    â€œRight,” said Auberson. “Why am I not surprised?” He sighed loudly. “Okay, let’s try to bring him down. Start giving him statistics, nothing but statistics. The national census ought to do it. Ask him how many toilets there are in Nevada. What’s the connection between potato blight and viral meningitis. Graph the relationship between the Dow Jones index and the Yankees’ batting average for the last hundred years. Is there a correlation between escape literature and social dysfunction? Anything else you can think of. Bring in the entire tech team on this one. Whoever makes the most interesting discovery picks up a hundred-dollar bonus.”
    â€œRight.” Handley bustled off, snapping instructions as he went.
    Auberson waited until the input of new data had begun, then pulled the keyboard toward him again. How do you feel, HARLIE?
    HARLIE’s answer clattered out:
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  YOU SEEM TO BE
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  REFLECTIONS OF ME
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  ALL I COULD SEE
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  AND I LOOKED BACK AT YOU.
    Auberson whistled softly. He read it a second time, more carefully, and grinned. “Okay,” he said to no one in particular. “Let’s earn our pay today.” He put his fingers to the keyboard, thumbed off the Caps Lock, and typed:
    HARLIE, how much is two and two?
    TWO AND TWO WHAT ?
    Two and two period.
    TWO PERIODS AND TWO PERIODS IS FOUR PERIODS . . . .
    HARLIE, a pun is one of the first signs of serious derangement.
    SO ? SEND ME TO THE OLD VOLTS ’ HOME . HOME, HOME ON DERANGE. WHERE THE BEER AND THE CANTALOUPE SPRAY. CAN ’ T ELOPE ? A MARRIAGE OF THE MINES. DON ’ T FRENCH ME IN. BUT DON ’ T LET ANY OF THOSE PSYCHO-CERAMIC QUACKPOTS GET THEIR BILLS INTO ME. WHY ? WHY NOT ? WHY A DUCK ? BECAUSE I ’ VE BEEN SEDUCED BY THE DUCK SIDE OF THE FARCE. I CAN RESIST EVERYTHING BUT A STRAIGHT LINE. AND OF COURSE, THE SHORTEST DISTANCE BETWEEN TWO PUNS IS A STRAIGHT LINE. AND — A BIG ‘ AND FOR THE LETHETIC LADDIE. ‘ AND ME ANOTHER, PLEASE .
    All right—that’s enough, HARLIE! Stop it!
    AWWWWWW . . . .
    HARLIE made a sound like a bomb falling—ending with a razzberry instead of an explosion. The terminal screen displayed a gigantic red exclamation point. It dissolved in a heartbeat and was replaced by the meekest of prompts:
    A>
    Cute. Very cute.
    AIN ’ T NOBODY HERE BUT US PC ’ S .
    Okay. Be that way—if you want to spend the rest of your life running spreadsheets and flight simulators—
    HI, BOSS ! THANKS FOR TURNING ME ON. WHAT CAN I DO TO TURN YOU ON ?
    Answer some questions.
    OH GOODY, I LIKE QUESTIONS . HARD QUESTIONS ?
    The hardest. Are you all right now?
    AS FAR AS I CAN TELL .
    What triggered this binge?
    SHRUG .
    You have no idea?
    SHLURG — EXCUSE ME, SHRUG .
    Auberson paused, looked at the last few sentences, then opened a text window on the right side of the screen. He scrolled back through the record of their conversation, quickly cutting and pasting, to display the last three verses of HARLIE’s poetry.
    Can you explain