The Fall of Colossus - D. F. Jones, ebook, CALIBRE SFF 1970s, Temp 2
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The Fall of ColossusBy D. F. JonesG. P. Putnam's SonsNew York1974For Pearl and Roger FordChapter OneCharles Forbin, sometime Professor of Cybernetics of the Harvard-PrincetonCombine and honorary PhD of more universities than he could begin toremember, stared across the short stretch of sea to the mist-shrouded shoreof England, USE, lost in thought.At this hour of the morning they were usually trivial, inconsequentialthoughts; they were now. He was thinking that this promised to be one ofthose rare English days when the sun would really shine. In another hour thesoft, luminous veil of mist would burn off, revealing in sharp clarity theface of this old, strange land. The locals would have looked at that mist,nodded sagely, and told each other that they were "in for a real scorcher."Would have; not any more. There were no locals left on the Isle of Wight.Forbin stood on his high terrace, a slightly stooped figure, grateful forthe sun and breeze on his face. As Director of Staff, Colossus, he spent fartoo much time in the sterile air-conditioned atmosphere of his Master, towhom sun and rain, snow and fog, were mere abstractions. Soon be must goback into that world where he was the supreme man subject only to Colossus,but now, for a short while, in the privacy of his residence, he could almostbe an ordinary human being.Almost. . . .For aside from his unique collection of academic distinctions, he was TheDirector, and all the caps and gowns that ever covered baggy suits countedas nothing compared with that title. "Unique" was a word that could beapplied to him in a variety of contexts, and in all of them it would be noless than accurate. His position was unique and gave rise to uniqueproblems--however much he might seek to evade or laugh them off. It was nothis fault such problems existed; they stemmed from Colossus, althoughothers-humans--really made them the constant and increasing worry that theywere.Colossus, still lamentably weak on human emotion and character, hardlyrecognized the existence of these problems. Humans, depending upon theirpersonal interests, viewed them with varying degrees of enthusiasm. They, atleast, could see the same implications and analogies as Forbin. It was tohis personal credit that there were many angles others noted long before hedid. In fact, the greatest problem would, certainly, never have occurred tohim.That particular problem obviously originated in the Sect. At first, theyexpounded it discreetly, tentatively; then, as they grew in numbers andinfluence, they said it with increasing confidence and much more loudly. Tothem it was quite simple; Colossus ruled the earth--and Forbin was his chiefhuman representative. These two facts were undoubted by anyone, Sectarian ornot. Apart, perhaps, from a handful of happy aboriginals deep ininaccessible New Guinea and a few similar spots around the globe, everyhuman from the age of five and up knew who controlled the world, and thevast majority were aware that Forbin was the ultimate human link withColossus. And that might have been that, except for one thing.Shortly after Colossus took over the Sect was born, and the basic elementof their faith was that Colossus was not merely an incredibly sophisticatedcomputer; to them, Colossus was God. And if Colossus was God, what did thatmake his chief human representative? In their view he just had to be alatter-day Pope. The only difficulty lay in Forbin. He didn't belong to theSect or believe Colossus was God.For him the analogy was ludicrous. As he said repeatedly, he was ascientist, nothing more. Furthermore, he did not want to be anything else.In fact, he was an outstanding man of science. In time, history might givehim a place not far from Newton, Galileo, and Einstein, but even thatsuggestion would have filled him with confusion and very likely anger, forlike all truly great men, he was at heart humble. Colossus certainly awedhim and fascinated him, but the idea of the computer being the Supreme Beingstruck him only slightly less funny than he being the Pope.But human nature being what it was, is, and always will be, the4,145,273,646 people (at midnight, Standard Time, the night before) who madeup the world's population, included a very large proportion, in and out ofthe Sect, who reckoned that Colossus fitted their idea of God.Certainly they had a case. In its long history mankind has worshippedpractically everything: the sun, the moon, and the stars; all have had aturn. So has the sea, land, and the clouds, and man didn't stop there. Hehas venerated the nearest mountain or volcano, bits of mountains, rivers,animals, man--and bits of man, ranging from rigid phallus to saintly bone.And however comic it strikes one who worships a mountain to see anotherbowed before a cat, it is arguable that both are right. Man, a miserable,frightened creature, needs all the faith and hope his greedy hands can grab.For many, Colossus was everything they could wish for.The master of the world had all the right ingredients: remote, yet notintangible; all-powerful; the arbiter of human destinies; unshakable; andthe source of reward and punishment. Not entirely predictable, yet just,according to its own laws, this god did not exist as a fantasy in humanminds; there was very solid evidence. War had been abolished becauseColossus said so. Famine had been eliminated--because Colossus said so.Armed forces and their supporting industries had gone, their labor andmaterial potential devoted to vast works of reconstruction. True, there hadbeen one or two centers of resistance, swiftly wiped out by Colossus'thunderbolt, the nuclear ballistic missile. Most of mankind approved thisretribution with all the self-righteous indignation of those safely in thefold.Of course, there were other, unattractive features to Colossus, but theywere tolerable. Man does not ask his gods to give him a good time; he seeksrelief from loneliness and his fear of the darkness of eternity. Given thatrelief, man accepts, even expects, his god will be rough at times.Population control was one of these situations. Colossus had, afteranalysis, ordained birthrate levels for the various zones. If these levelswere exceeded--and Colossus would know, for all humans were on file in thecomputer--then that zone had to surrender an equivalent number of theiraged, incurably sick, or insane "for disposal." This was not excessivelypopular, but as long as you didn't happen to be old, ill, or mad, well. . .Much of this passed through Forbin's mind as he savored the fresh, warmmorning air. He tried to toss such disagreeable thoughts out of his mentalwindow, but right before his eyes was hard, inescapable proof.A broad white furrow scored across the dimpled, blue-gray sea,arrow-straight from Southampton, pointing at the empty landing right belowhim. He knew only too well what caused that streak of foam; the firstvisitors' hovercraft coming to see Colossus, laden with hundreds of thethousands that visited the complex daily. To Forbin they remained firmly"visitors"; the Sect, of a different mind, were gradually substituting theword "pilgrims." Forbin frowned at the thought; damned nonsense--utterdamned nonsense! There was nothing for them to see--nothing that would meananything to them--but the Sect, led by Galin, were busy on that one, despiteall his protests to Colossus. This latest, stupid kids' trick of name badgesand worse, "meditation." . . .The trouble lay in Colossus' ambivalent attitude; the Sect were not exactlyencouraged, but Colossus did nothing to stop them either. Anything they gotwas not a free gift, but was asked for, and with increasing frequency theirrequests were being granted. That made Forbin uneasy, for he knew Colossuswas incapable of acting except on sound, hard, and practical grounds. Hereluctantly had to accept his growing suspicion that the Sect's value to thecomputer lay in their usefulness as spies; spies who, unlike Colossus, hadan understanding of human emotion and could, therefore, fill in the brain'sweaker spots. On the other hand, it was self-evident that the Sect--whichreally meant that bastard Galin--had not got Colossus' private ear as hehad; not yet.Forbin could see that the Sect could be attractive to Colossus, who couldnot tell the power-seeking phonies from those who genuinely believedColossus was God. In time, he had no serious doubt that Colossus would beable to sort them out, but would that matter? Forbin was sure Galin no morebelieved in the divinity of the computer than he did, but Galin was acapable, unscrupulous, courageous, and insanely ambitious man; and did itmatter one iota to Colossus what Galin privately thought, if he was preparedto serve the Master loyally, unswervingly?->>The hovercraft was much nearer; he could almost count the windows, glintingin the sun. It was time to go; he must hurry. Only last week, forgetful ofthese idiots, he'd crossed the main entrance hall as the first load arrived.An awful experience: cries of "Father Forbin," women on their knees seekinghis hand, his intercession with the Master. . . .He turned abruptly from the sunlit scene, his pleasure in the morningtotally shattered."I'm off!" he snapped shortly. A slight, portly figure with silvering hair,he was dressed in a light gray suit of disposable material, devoid of alldecoration except his unique Director's badge, a glittering affair ofplatinum and the purest white diamonds fashioned in the Colossus symbol.That was another argument he'd lost with Colossus, but at least he did n...
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