Free Cyber Rogues by James P. Hogan Page B

which he only half heard, one of which was a reminder that some members of a research team from Princeton were due the next morning and would be spending most of the day with the unit. Pattie tried beguiling him with a silent, innocent, wide-eyed look which he ignored. At that moment Judy Farlin came out of Kim’s office, rummaged around in a file drawer for a few moments and then went back in carrying a folder. Dyer turned abruptly and went back into his own office where he called the Superintendent of Internal Services, bawled him out at considerable length and secured a guaranteed reservation for Judy for the first thing the next morning. He came back out, gave the details to Betty and asked her to pass them on to Judy. Then, feeling a little better, he went on through to the lab bay to see how Ron and Chris were getting along.

    Hector propelled himself across the floor of the kitchen, stopped in front of the broken window and paused while FISE considered the situation.
    “What happened?” Dyer asked. Ron, who was standing with his elbows resting on the opposite side of the tank, raised his head.
    “We told him that the garbage pail had to go out in the yard.” he explained. “So he threw it through the window.” Dyer grunted and returned his gaze to the tank.
    Hector reached out and grabbed hold of one of the jagged fragments of glass that remained around where the window had been. PROPS immediately caused a vivid red line to appear across Hector’s hand. The gash proceeded to ooze blood profusely but Hector ignored it and continued tugging experimentally at the piece of glass in an effort to remove it.
    “Hold it. Hold it there, Chris,” Ron called out. The figure in the kitchen froze. “Now FISE,” Ron said, adopting his stoic voice. “There are a few more things that you have to get straight about Hector. Glass cuts. Hector does not like being cut. You don’t cut bits off him or permit him to be cut by anything if you can avoid it. Okay? You have to find a way to fix the window without cutting Hector in the process.” A few seconds elapsed while Chris completed keying in the last addition to FISE’s growing store of information.
    “Question,” FISE’s voice said from the grille.
    “What?” Ron inquired.
    “When Hector was shaving, his hair got cut. Why was that okay?”
    “Oh yeah, I forgot that,” Ron agreed. “When any part of Hector’s body starts to get cut it hurts, just like you already know for things that are too hot. When he feels that, he’ll respond with a reflex that overrides everything else he’s doing. Hair is an exception. It doesn’t hurt when it’s cut. An unshaven face is not a nice thing. Shaving in the morning is okay.”
    “Thanks,” FISE acknowledged.
    “Before you go any further, let’s just try something,” Dyer suggested. “I’d like to see how well it understood what Ron just said. Chris, could you reset to the point just before where Hector grabbed at the glass, and force the same action.” Chris took a while to compose the commands. Dyer and Ron watched intently as Hector flashed back to his previous starting posture and approached the window once more. He grabbed at the glass as before but this time his hand jerked back again instantly. PROPS could justify no more than a slight scratch.
    “Not bad,” Ron conceded, sounding impressed.
    “I’m almost tempted to suggest that we might be safe in upgrading his IQ to one,” Chris murmured, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms.
    Dyer felt a sudden urge of excitement They were getting there! It was a slow and tedious business, certainly, but the first signs were there. It was all beginning to come together. To cut it off at this point would be tragic.
    “Reset again, Chris, and let FISE handle it himself,” he said. “Let’s see if he can figure out a better way.”
    Hector tried several approaches, including wrapping his hand in the tablecloth and then in a towel, but Ron vetoed all of them.