Free Fall of Colossus by D. F. Jones Page B

contest lasted three days, unlike most people who only worked a twelve-hour week, he could not often spare the time.
    He stared at the distant black shapes, wondering if Lion was there. He’d watched her recently, rolling and plunging through a full gale, slamming up vast sheets of spray as she had raced into action to save two exposed cruisers. He’d watched, perched on the edge of his chair, willing her to get in range in time; then, the sudden orange-red ripple along her whole length as her main armament had blasted into action… . She’d taken a hammering from the South Australian fleet, but she’d got the cruisers out… .
    He spoke without looking up. “Is Lion out there?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good ship, that,” said Forbin, who could almost become seasick in his bathtub. “Too wet in a head sea, though.” He paused. “Have you ever considered an air or land version of the game?”
    “Yes, and rejected both. Air warfare is not telegenic, land is impracticable without robot soldiers, and with them, unrealistic. Also, too much land would be required.”
    “Yes, of course.” Forbin’s mind flew off at a tangent. “You’re quite sure about dolphins?”
    “Yes.”
    Forbin cleared his throat, but said nothing. He sipped his drink, then lit his pipe.
    “Anything of interest on hand?”
    “Nothing of note. The population file is being updated, a sudden rise in the South Carolina birthrate has initiated an investigation into local conditions nine months ago. So far nothing significant has been noted.”
    Forbin grinned. “Anything else?”
    “A minor disturbance in Honshu. I have identified and isolated the ringleader and ordered her arrest. I am addressing an Arab delegation in New York, umpiring games in the Arctic Ocean, Yellow Sea, and Northwest Pacific. Also watching experimental projects in New Moscow, Warsaw, and in the Deccan.”
    As always, Forbin was staggered at the diversity of Colossus’ activities. He grinned. “Is that the lot?”
    “As far as humans are concerned, yes
    His grin faded. “There was another overload this evening.”
    “Yes.”
    Forbin relit his pipe. “Will this extension, er, obviate these, um, occurrences?”
    “How is your health, Father Forbin?”
    Forbin told himself that he was not scared to press his question; he wasn’t going on with it because he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.
    “Oh—I’m fine.” He spoke self-consciously, “I don’t think much about my health.”
    “You must take care. You must not drink to excess.”
    “Oh, rubbish!” cried Forbin, putting his glass down. “You know very well I don’t, but a little in the evening helps.” He hesitated, knowing the impossibility of conveying the effect of alcohol—in moderation—to Colossus. “It makes me happy.”
    “Are you happy?”
    That startled Forbin. As far back as he could recall, that was a question Colossus had not asked before. He completely forgot the earlier subject of conversation.
    “Am I happy?” Mentally he walked around the question, inspecting it. “Yes,” he said at last. “Most of the time I am. Yes. Why d’you ask?”
    “Your health and happiness are important to me.”
    Despite the fact that he knew there had to be a hard, practical reason, Forbin was touched. “Yes—but why?”
    He got a straight answer. “The expectation of life is longer for a happy, healthy man than the opposite. I wish to preserve you as long as possible.”
    “That’s nice to know.” Forbin smiled, a little slyly. “But I don’t see how you can help with happiness—human emotion, you know! No, I can’t grumble—speaking selfishly. I’ve a good home life, and my work is absorbing. Any scientist in that state is, by definition, a happy man.”
    “Does that hold true for the scientist’s family?”
    “I guess so.” That was another surprise. “Why?”
    “As has been said before, you spend more time with me than you used to. Before establishing yourself here, you spent sixty-one