Read Online The Fellowship of the Hand by Edward D. Hoch - Free Book Online
Authors: Edward D. Hoch
Ads: Link
motioned them to follow. But the rest of the tour provided no new insights for Crader. There was only room after underground room of memory units and readout screens, with a brief glimpse of Blunt’s office.
“Why?” he asked at last.
“Why?”
“If this is not part of some revolutionary scheme, then why?”
“This is not HAND, as you can see. Our group does not hate the machine. We know its capabilities, and we make use of them. Rather than destroy the machines, as HAND would do, we intend to harness them for the good of mankind. The idea of using computers to distill all of human knowledge is not new with us, of course. In the late 1960s The New York Times attempted something similar, feeding all indexed items from the Times into a central computer. A large series of books and research projects resulted—everything from a directory and index of all the films ever shown in New York to an alphabetical listing of all the people whose deaths the Times had reported. Way back then there were those who voiced objections to the project, pointing out that the computer input could tend to color or distort the true facts of a more detailed news story. But the project was successful nonetheless. Here we have simply carried it one step further. We record the past, and use it to define the present while predicting the future.”
“If that’s true, you could rule the country with this machine. Rule it better than the President.”
“Perhaps,” Blunt said, smiling slightly.
“Then you admit your group could function as a sort of secret super-government?”
“Oh, certainly. I admit to everything. You must only trust me that our intentions are honorable. The very fact I brought you here shows our intentions are honorable.”
“What about Stanley Ambrose’s intentions?”
“Ambrose?”
“Obviously there are two factions fighting for control here. Otherwise, why hold a secret election? If Ambrose won that election, what happens?”
“Ambrose is an honorable man, a dedicated public servant.”
“He’s not been seen since his return from Venus a year ago. Any idea where he is?”
“He has been here many times. Soon I’m sure he’ll return to public view.”
They’d come back to the stainless steel corridor leading to the elevators. “We’ve seen it all,” Blunt said, “except for the crew’s living quarters.”
“Crew? As on a spaceship?”
“It’s very like a spaceship, isn’t it?”
“It’s cut off from reality with no view of earth, if that’s what you mean.”
“Will you report us to the President?”
Crader weighed the man’s words, wondering if they would be followed by a threat. “Of course,” he answered finally. “It’s my job. Am I free to leave?”
“Certainly! You were never a prisoner.” He waved his hand. “Report what you like. We have no secrets.”
“Then why did the rocketcopter leave so quickly after it deposited us? I had the distinct impression you were trying to avoid having our location pinpointed by anyone who might be following.”
A shrug. “A simple precaution against HAND. We remember what they did at the Federal Medical Center.”
“All right,” Crader said. “You showed me all this, and you showed it for a reason. You want me to carry a message back to President McCurdy.”
“That is correct.”
“What message?”
“Tell him what you saw here. Tell him …” Jason Blunt paused, choosing his words with care. “Tell him the future belongs to those with the largest computers.”
7 EARL JAZINE
H E’D BEEN IN CHICAGO only once in the last decade, on a routine computer investigation involving fraudulent tax returns. The city had changed little in the meantime, though it still reminded Jazine of a compact New York, throwing its towers to the sky but never quite equaling the lure of Manhattan.
He’d left Euler Frost at the jetport, and while Frost scouted the location of the secret election headquarters, Jazine used the time to have photo
“Why?” he asked at last.
“Why?”
“If this is not part of some revolutionary scheme, then why?”
“This is not HAND, as you can see. Our group does not hate the machine. We know its capabilities, and we make use of them. Rather than destroy the machines, as HAND would do, we intend to harness them for the good of mankind. The idea of using computers to distill all of human knowledge is not new with us, of course. In the late 1960s The New York Times attempted something similar, feeding all indexed items from the Times into a central computer. A large series of books and research projects resulted—everything from a directory and index of all the films ever shown in New York to an alphabetical listing of all the people whose deaths the Times had reported. Way back then there were those who voiced objections to the project, pointing out that the computer input could tend to color or distort the true facts of a more detailed news story. But the project was successful nonetheless. Here we have simply carried it one step further. We record the past, and use it to define the present while predicting the future.”
“If that’s true, you could rule the country with this machine. Rule it better than the President.”
“Perhaps,” Blunt said, smiling slightly.
“Then you admit your group could function as a sort of secret super-government?”
“Oh, certainly. I admit to everything. You must only trust me that our intentions are honorable. The very fact I brought you here shows our intentions are honorable.”
“What about Stanley Ambrose’s intentions?”
“Ambrose?”
“Obviously there are two factions fighting for control here. Otherwise, why hold a secret election? If Ambrose won that election, what happens?”
“Ambrose is an honorable man, a dedicated public servant.”
“He’s not been seen since his return from Venus a year ago. Any idea where he is?”
“He has been here many times. Soon I’m sure he’ll return to public view.”
They’d come back to the stainless steel corridor leading to the elevators. “We’ve seen it all,” Blunt said, “except for the crew’s living quarters.”
“Crew? As on a spaceship?”
“It’s very like a spaceship, isn’t it?”
“It’s cut off from reality with no view of earth, if that’s what you mean.”
“Will you report us to the President?”
Crader weighed the man’s words, wondering if they would be followed by a threat. “Of course,” he answered finally. “It’s my job. Am I free to leave?”
“Certainly! You were never a prisoner.” He waved his hand. “Report what you like. We have no secrets.”
“Then why did the rocketcopter leave so quickly after it deposited us? I had the distinct impression you were trying to avoid having our location pinpointed by anyone who might be following.”
A shrug. “A simple precaution against HAND. We remember what they did at the Federal Medical Center.”
“All right,” Crader said. “You showed me all this, and you showed it for a reason. You want me to carry a message back to President McCurdy.”
“That is correct.”
“What message?”
“Tell him what you saw here. Tell him …” Jason Blunt paused, choosing his words with care. “Tell him the future belongs to those with the largest computers.”
7 EARL JAZINE
H E’D BEEN IN CHICAGO only once in the last decade, on a routine computer investigation involving fraudulent tax returns. The city had changed little in the meantime, though it still reminded Jazine of a compact New York, throwing its towers to the sky but never quite equaling the lure of Manhattan.
He’d left Euler Frost at the jetport, and while Frost scouted the location of the secret election headquarters, Jazine used the time to have photo
Similar Books
