Cyber Rogues by James P. Hogan Read Free Book Online Page A

realized that all the objects represented were gross oversimplifications of the things they were supposed to be, rather than accurate models. It suggested the kind of surroundings that might have been created for a three-dimensional children’s cartoon. Laura looked at Dyer inquiringly.
    “That’s FISE,” Dyer explained, pointing at one of the cubicles nearby. “The image in the tank is FISE’s world. We’ve given him a very simple world so that he can get his basic concepts straight without having to worry about lots of complications that exist in the real one.”
    “How do you know it’s a him?” Laura challenged absently as she continued to study the image. Dyer raised his eyes momentarily toward the ceiling in a silent plea far patience.
    “It’s a him because we made it a him,” Ron declared flatly. His glare dared her to dispute the rationale behind that . Dyer breathed silent relief when Laura merely sniffed, evidently electing not to take the point further. Chris waited patiently until the rumblings had died away and then touched another key. Immediately a figure appeared standing in the kitchen of the miniature house. Like the rest of the image, it was a cartoon caricature devoid of detail—just a face defined by a few lines, a mop of curly hair and a man’s body clad in a red shirt and blue pants.
    “That’s Hector,” Dyer informed her, “He lives in FISE’s world along with a few other characters. We give FISE problems to solve and he attempts to solve them by manipulating Hector. Actually, FISE thinks he is Hector. Representing things visually like this is the best way of knowing what’s going on inside FISE’s mind. We can see straight away from the things he makes Hector do exactly what he knows and what he hasn’t figured out yet. When he screws something up we straighten him out, after which he never makes the mistake again but usually goes straight on and screws something else up. As I said before, it’s like having a baby that has to be told all the things that Nature normally programs it to be able to work out instinctively.”
    “Let’s take it through the breakfast routine again,” Ron suggested, directing his words at Chris. “There were still some funny things going on last time. I’d like to see it cleaned up.”
    Chris made no direct response but resumed tapping commands into the console, Laura looked from one side to the other and then at Dyer.
    “What’s the breakfast routine?” she asked.
    Dyer motioned toward the tank. Hector had begun walking around the table toward the refrigerator. He opened the door and began transferring various items out and onto the working surface next to the stove.
    “You see, FISE knows quite a lot already,” Dyer commented. “He knows how to move Hector’s legs to make him move across the room. He knows that Hector has to go around the table and not through it, that he can’t get the things he wants out of the refrigerator unless the door’s open and that to move them Hector has to be looking in the right direction and has to pick them up with his hands. All kinds of stuff like that.”
    “Watch him picking up the eggs,” Ron said, pointing. “See . . . nice and gently. And watch how carefully he puts them down. He knows enough about eggs to realize that they don’t last long if they’re treated rough.”
    Laura watched in fascinated silence for a few seconds.
    “How does he know that?” she asked, unconsciously accepting the machine’s disputed gender. “Does he know what the shell’s made of and work it out from there or something?”
    “No,” Dyer replied from the opposite side of the tank. “FISE has already learned it the hard way. Actually there are more computers involved than FISE. FISE only controls Hector and knows as much as Hector knows. The environment that Hector lives in is all managed by a team of computers that fills two of the other cubicles. Their collective name is PROPS. PROPS monitors everything