[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
system," Bickel said.
Prudence nodded. It was like a superb human memory in some respects -- even
worked something like a human memory -- but it was a fine instrument with all
the delicate weaknesses implied by that term.
"Jeeeeesus." Timberlake whispered. "And we shot an unknown program through
it."
"Worse than that," Bickel said. "Because of that unrecorded tie-in to the
computer . . ." He swallowed, wondering if they already appreciated the
extent of this disaster. Turning, he indicated the piled cubes and
rectangles, the sheafs of quasibiological nerve fiber that constituted his
"Ox."
The others turned in the direction he pointed.
"That setup is, in effect, an extension of the computer," Bickel said.
"The error factor!" Prudence said. She put a hand to her mouth.
"We've introduced an error factor into the computer," Bickel said. "And that
means, first, that we've introduced the probability -- no, the certainty, of
an unknown number of subspaces within the computer's space time. The program
we've just thrown into the computer . . . to land, we know not where, will
produce unknown topological linkages, new networks all through the system."
"In the memory storage banks, primarily," Timberlake said.
"And in the transducer nets," Bickel said.
"But this storage unit here produced the circuit-analysis information when I
asked for it," Prudence said.
"Certainly," Bickel said. "But your demand amounted to a program for a
subroutine. Where the information came from God alone knows. Just in the
first stage, there are fifty lines leading out of this unit. And those lines
filter through a buffer system, remember. The bits go out of here, charge
through that buffer system, and are split up fifty ways, according to their
differences in potential. That's just the first stage. At the next stage,
your division is fifty times fifty. And then fifty times fifty times fifty.
And so on."
It was like trying to work with a memory whose only certain property was that
everything stored in it was stored according to a scatter pattern and could
only be recovered if you knew the pattern.
Guaranteed selective amnesia. But that . . . was kind of human.
"This bank here was just like a knitting machine," Prudence said. "It took
the threads of the record from this test setup and knitted them out through
the storage banks of the entire system . . . smearing that record across an
unknown number of retainer cells."
"An unknown number of times," Bickel said. "Remember that. And we only have
one address for the entire record of that test, the address of a subroutine
program. If that's lost the whole record's lost . . . unless we manage to
match enough pieces of it in another program to pull it out of the system
again."
"But isn't that pretty much the way human memory works?" Prudence asked. "And
here's another thing: It produced the right answer at the translator. The
right answer."
Bickel looked at her, turning that fact over in his mind.
She was right, by God! And not for the reason he had so glibly spouted.
The thing had produced the right answers in spite of errors and
misprogramming. The processing procedure stank. It was heuristic and should
not under any circumstances have yielded the desired output.
But it had. Why?
Bickel experienced a mental sensation as though his mind lurched. It was so
much like a physical sensation he wondered that the others didn't notice.
The beautiful clarity with which he understood what had happened in the
computer washed through him like a stimulant.
Didn't the others see it?
He looked at Prudence, at Timberlake, realized this had all occurred in a
fraction of a second.
"For motion produceth nothing but motion."
The words rang through his mind, producing awe at the way apparently
disconnected bits -- a line of poetry here, a technical phrase there -- could
link with a simple turn of mathematics to produce a right answer in his mind.
Just the way it had happened in the computer.
Prudence, correctly interpreting Bickel's expression, spoke quietly, "You're
onto something, John."
He nodded. "Prudence, you're our mathematician. What's pi?"
She stared at him, puzzled.
"I'm serious," Bickel said.
"The ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter," she said. "A
rational approximation would be approximately twenty-two over seven. A closer
approximation would be three hundred and fifty-five over a hundred and
thirteen."
"For most applications, that approximation of pi would give us significant
results?" Bickel asked.
"You don't have to ask that. You know it would."
"Okay, now tell me why you didn't answer my question by saying pi is a sweet
concoction of starchy crust enclosing a filling often of fruit?"
She saw his seriousness in the way he stared at her, waiting. This bore on
the problem in some way. She looked at Timberlake and he interpreted her
motion as an appeal for help.
"It's obvious," Timberlake said. "You set up a category first by saying,
'You're our mathematician.' Then you asked: 'What's pi?' You didn't say:
'What's a pie?'"
"Yeah," Bickel said. "You had two screening references through which to
filter the question and come up with the right answer. Then, because you
sensed this was a rhetorical question in some way, you didn't try to explain
first that there's no rational number for pi; you just gave me the rational
approximations."
"Well, I knew I didn't have to explain that to you," Prudence said.
"That was category 'common information,'" Bickel said. "All you had to do was
produce the significant answer."
"Holy cow!" Timberlake exploded, seeing where Bickel was leading them.
"Holy Ox, you mean," Bickel said.
Prudence whirled, pointed wildly toward the computer panel. "But it wasn't
conscious! It couldn't have been!"
"It wasn't conscious," Bickel agreed. "But first crack out of the box, we've
produced a significant result. And it was no accident. What can we say about
the results of this test? First, we can say that the computer had sufficient
information to produce an accurate answer despite errors in the system.
Second, we can say that we've introduced a new kind of sense data into the
system previously called a computer. We can go on calling this a computer,
but it's a step up from 'computer' now. It has learned how to use a new kind
of sense data."
Prudence started to speak, stopped.
"Screen everything I've said here through field theory," Bickel said. He
grinned at them. "Then remember that we matched three energy sources in the
Ox. The integrator there set them up to go out identically. The buffer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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system," Bickel said.
Prudence nodded. It was like a superb human memory in some respects -- even
worked something like a human memory -- but it was a fine instrument with all
the delicate weaknesses implied by that term.
"Jeeeeesus." Timberlake whispered. "And we shot an unknown program through
it."
"Worse than that," Bickel said. "Because of that unrecorded tie-in to the
computer . . ." He swallowed, wondering if they already appreciated the
extent of this disaster. Turning, he indicated the piled cubes and
rectangles, the sheafs of quasibiological nerve fiber that constituted his
"Ox."
The others turned in the direction he pointed.
"That setup is, in effect, an extension of the computer," Bickel said.
"The error factor!" Prudence said. She put a hand to her mouth.
"We've introduced an error factor into the computer," Bickel said. "And that
means, first, that we've introduced the probability -- no, the certainty, of
an unknown number of subspaces within the computer's space time. The program
we've just thrown into the computer . . . to land, we know not where, will
produce unknown topological linkages, new networks all through the system."
"In the memory storage banks, primarily," Timberlake said.
"And in the transducer nets," Bickel said.
"But this storage unit here produced the circuit-analysis information when I
asked for it," Prudence said.
"Certainly," Bickel said. "But your demand amounted to a program for a
subroutine. Where the information came from God alone knows. Just in the
first stage, there are fifty lines leading out of this unit. And those lines
filter through a buffer system, remember. The bits go out of here, charge
through that buffer system, and are split up fifty ways, according to their
differences in potential. That's just the first stage. At the next stage,
your division is fifty times fifty. And then fifty times fifty times fifty.
And so on."
It was like trying to work with a memory whose only certain property was that
everything stored in it was stored according to a scatter pattern and could
only be recovered if you knew the pattern.
Guaranteed selective amnesia. But that . . . was kind of human.
"This bank here was just like a knitting machine," Prudence said. "It took
the threads of the record from this test setup and knitted them out through
the storage banks of the entire system . . . smearing that record across an
unknown number of retainer cells."
"An unknown number of times," Bickel said. "Remember that. And we only have
one address for the entire record of that test, the address of a subroutine
program. If that's lost the whole record's lost . . . unless we manage to
match enough pieces of it in another program to pull it out of the system
again."
"But isn't that pretty much the way human memory works?" Prudence asked. "And
here's another thing: It produced the right answer at the translator. The
right answer."
Bickel looked at her, turning that fact over in his mind.
She was right, by God! And not for the reason he had so glibly spouted.
The thing had produced the right answers in spite of errors and
misprogramming. The processing procedure stank. It was heuristic and should
not under any circumstances have yielded the desired output.
But it had. Why?
Bickel experienced a mental sensation as though his mind lurched. It was so
much like a physical sensation he wondered that the others didn't notice.
The beautiful clarity with which he understood what had happened in the
computer washed through him like a stimulant.
Didn't the others see it?
He looked at Prudence, at Timberlake, realized this had all occurred in a
fraction of a second.
"For motion produceth nothing but motion."
The words rang through his mind, producing awe at the way apparently
disconnected bits -- a line of poetry here, a technical phrase there -- could
link with a simple turn of mathematics to produce a right answer in his mind.
Just the way it had happened in the computer.
Prudence, correctly interpreting Bickel's expression, spoke quietly, "You're
onto something, John."
He nodded. "Prudence, you're our mathematician. What's pi?"
She stared at him, puzzled.
"I'm serious," Bickel said.
"The ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter," she said. "A
rational approximation would be approximately twenty-two over seven. A closer
approximation would be three hundred and fifty-five over a hundred and
thirteen."
"For most applications, that approximation of pi would give us significant
results?" Bickel asked.
"You don't have to ask that. You know it would."
"Okay, now tell me why you didn't answer my question by saying pi is a sweet
concoction of starchy crust enclosing a filling often of fruit?"
She saw his seriousness in the way he stared at her, waiting. This bore on
the problem in some way. She looked at Timberlake and he interpreted her
motion as an appeal for help.
"It's obvious," Timberlake said. "You set up a category first by saying,
'You're our mathematician.' Then you asked: 'What's pi?' You didn't say:
'What's a pie?'"
"Yeah," Bickel said. "You had two screening references through which to
filter the question and come up with the right answer. Then, because you
sensed this was a rhetorical question in some way, you didn't try to explain
first that there's no rational number for pi; you just gave me the rational
approximations."
"Well, I knew I didn't have to explain that to you," Prudence said.
"That was category 'common information,'" Bickel said. "All you had to do was
produce the significant answer."
"Holy cow!" Timberlake exploded, seeing where Bickel was leading them.
"Holy Ox, you mean," Bickel said.
Prudence whirled, pointed wildly toward the computer panel. "But it wasn't
conscious! It couldn't have been!"
"It wasn't conscious," Bickel agreed. "But first crack out of the box, we've
produced a significant result. And it was no accident. What can we say about
the results of this test? First, we can say that the computer had sufficient
information to produce an accurate answer despite errors in the system.
Second, we can say that we've introduced a new kind of sense data into the
system previously called a computer. We can go on calling this a computer,
but it's a step up from 'computer' now. It has learned how to use a new kind
of sense data."
Prudence started to speak, stopped.
"Screen everything I've said here through field theory," Bickel said. He
grinned at them. "Then remember that we matched three energy sources in the
Ox. The integrator there set them up to go out identically. The buffer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]