Read Online Destination: Void: Prequel to the Pandora Sequence by Frank Herbert - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frank Herbert
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who designed it. Just look at it. You’re a doctor. What’s it suggest to you?”
“What does it suggest to you?” Flattery countered.
“That some potential effect is mediated there,” Bickel said. “This is a balancing system … very like the vestibular reflex that keeps us from falling on our asses when we walk.”
“But the cerebellum also is a terminus,” Prudence said.
“Cerebral output to the cerebellum doesn’t even stop when you’re asleep,” Flattery said. “How can you—”
“So the cerebellum soaks up energy like an infinite sponge,” Bickel said. “Energy is always pouring into it—emotional, sensory, motor, and mental energy. Why do we blandly assume the cerebellum engages in no activity? You can’t find that anywhere else in nature or in devices made by man—where a system as complicated as this just sits there and does nothing.”
“You’re arguing that the cerebellum is the seat of consciousness?” Flattery asked.
“And you haven’t defined consciousness,” Prudence said. She kept her attention fixed on Bickel, hiding her excitement. His argument wasn’t new, but she sensed he had a clearer understanding of where he was going with it than ever before.
“Seat of consciousness? No! I’m arguing that the cerebellum could mediate consciousness, integrate it, balance it … and that consciousness is a field phenomenon growing out of three or more lines of energy. We are more than our ideas.”
“Prue’s right,” Flattery said. “You’re not defining it.” He glanced at Prudence, aware of her excitement and resenting it. Knowing the source of his resentment gave little solace.
“But I can come at it through the back door,” Bickel said.
“What it’s not?” Prudence said.
“Right!” Bickel said. “It’s not introspection, not sensing, feeling, or thinking. These are all physiological functions. Machines can do all these things and still not be conscious. What we’re hunting is a third-order phenomenon—a relationship, not a thing. It’s not synonymous with awareness. It’s neither subjective nor objective. It’s a relationship.”
“We’re more than our ideas,” Prudence said.
“There’s the answer to the UMB’s glorified adding machines,” Bickel said. “It’s what I kept telling them … about this undefined human consciousness. When you add the inputs as a series in time you don’t always get an answer corresponding to the outputs. And since it isn’t addition, it has to be a more sophisticated mathematical problem.”
Timberlake, listening to Bickel, could feel the fitness intuitively. Bickel was going in the right direction, even though the landscapearound them was fuzzy. We’re more than our ideas.
Prudence leaned back, weighing Bickel’s words. He had to be given free rein, that was the directive. But he also had to feel he was being obstructed. Sensing that she had let herself get too close to the problem, she forced anger into her voice: “Damn it to hell, you still haven’t defined it!”
“We may never define it,” Bickel said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t reproduce it.”
“You want to start mocking up a prototype to test your theories?” Flattery asked.
“Using our communications AAT system as a basis,” Bickel said.
“The AAT is linked directly to the computer core,” Flattery said. “It’s part of the translation master program. If you make a mistake, you destroy the heart of the computer. I’m not sure we should—”
“It’ll be securely fused,” Bickel said. “No chance of a backlash getting through to—”
“Without the computer, our automatics cease functioning,” Timberlake said. “Maybe we’d better reconsider. If—”
“Come off of that, Tim!” Bickel protested. “You could set up this safety system as well as I could. There’s not a chance of anything getting through to the—”
“I keep thinking of the UMB’s so-called thinking machines,” Timberlake said. “We
“What does it suggest to you?” Flattery countered.
“That some potential effect is mediated there,” Bickel said. “This is a balancing system … very like the vestibular reflex that keeps us from falling on our asses when we walk.”
“But the cerebellum also is a terminus,” Prudence said.
“Cerebral output to the cerebellum doesn’t even stop when you’re asleep,” Flattery said. “How can you—”
“So the cerebellum soaks up energy like an infinite sponge,” Bickel said. “Energy is always pouring into it—emotional, sensory, motor, and mental energy. Why do we blandly assume the cerebellum engages in no activity? You can’t find that anywhere else in nature or in devices made by man—where a system as complicated as this just sits there and does nothing.”
“You’re arguing that the cerebellum is the seat of consciousness?” Flattery asked.
“And you haven’t defined consciousness,” Prudence said. She kept her attention fixed on Bickel, hiding her excitement. His argument wasn’t new, but she sensed he had a clearer understanding of where he was going with it than ever before.
“Seat of consciousness? No! I’m arguing that the cerebellum could mediate consciousness, integrate it, balance it … and that consciousness is a field phenomenon growing out of three or more lines of energy. We are more than our ideas.”
“Prue’s right,” Flattery said. “You’re not defining it.” He glanced at Prudence, aware of her excitement and resenting it. Knowing the source of his resentment gave little solace.
“But I can come at it through the back door,” Bickel said.
“What it’s not?” Prudence said.
“Right!” Bickel said. “It’s not introspection, not sensing, feeling, or thinking. These are all physiological functions. Machines can do all these things and still not be conscious. What we’re hunting is a third-order phenomenon—a relationship, not a thing. It’s not synonymous with awareness. It’s neither subjective nor objective. It’s a relationship.”
“We’re more than our ideas,” Prudence said.
“There’s the answer to the UMB’s glorified adding machines,” Bickel said. “It’s what I kept telling them … about this undefined human consciousness. When you add the inputs as a series in time you don’t always get an answer corresponding to the outputs. And since it isn’t addition, it has to be a more sophisticated mathematical problem.”
Timberlake, listening to Bickel, could feel the fitness intuitively. Bickel was going in the right direction, even though the landscapearound them was fuzzy. We’re more than our ideas.
Prudence leaned back, weighing Bickel’s words. He had to be given free rein, that was the directive. But he also had to feel he was being obstructed. Sensing that she had let herself get too close to the problem, she forced anger into her voice: “Damn it to hell, you still haven’t defined it!”
“We may never define it,” Bickel said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t reproduce it.”
“You want to start mocking up a prototype to test your theories?” Flattery asked.
“Using our communications AAT system as a basis,” Bickel said.
“The AAT is linked directly to the computer core,” Flattery said. “It’s part of the translation master program. If you make a mistake, you destroy the heart of the computer. I’m not sure we should—”
“It’ll be securely fused,” Bickel said. “No chance of a backlash getting through to—”
“Without the computer, our automatics cease functioning,” Timberlake said. “Maybe we’d better reconsider. If—”
“Come off of that, Tim!” Bickel protested. “You could set up this safety system as well as I could. There’s not a chance of anything getting through to the—”
“I keep thinking of the UMB’s so-called thinking machines,” Timberlake said. “We
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