SFworld 版 (精华区)
作 家: xian (去日留痕) on board 'SFworld'
题 目: The Dominus Demonstration(7)
来 源: 哈尔滨紫丁香站
日 期: Thu Sep 25 12:07:33 1997
出 处: byh.bbs@bbs.net.tsinghua.edu.cn
发信人: KingKongKang (KKK经理/裁判), 信区: SFworld
标 题: The Dominus Demonstration (7)
发信站: BBS 水木清华站 (Sun Aug 3 18:56:44 1997)
After a moment's hesitation, Bevin stood up and went
across to the control console. He stood there without
moving.
"Are you sure about this, General?"
"Quite sure. I've got questions, and I'd be a fool to
pretend I know everything about what we should do. I'm
as worried as you are. But I'm absolutely sure of one
thing. We'll solve nothing by delaying the completion of
Dominus. I can't think of a case in human history where it
helped to slow technological progress. At best it defers the
problem, and in the long run it makes things worse. We're
not the only people working on advanced designs. If
Dominus is stopped here, a machine like it will be built
somewhere else. Go ahead. But make sure you get that
communication link through Dmosat into the system from
the beginning."
While the brief command string was being entered
through the console, Tom Armstrong took a brown wallet
from his pocket. He removed a sheet of paper and handed
it to Jim Bevin.
"Do this in a particular order. I want the Library of
Congress files transferred first: history, art, literature, mu-
sic, philosophy, and anthropology. Then we'll take Medline
for all the biological data, plus all the psychology. Then
all the politics and social science references. Any problem
with any of those?"
"Not if these access codes are correct." Bevin was silent
for a few seconds as he entered the call codes. "I'm glad
you've made the decisions, General, but would you mind
telling me why we're doing this?"
"I'll be glad to. I'm not out to create a mystery. What
Rafael observed in the behavior pattern of Dominus
shouldn't be surprising -- not if you will first accept that
this is an intelligent machine. Even with only parts of the
system online, Dominus already possessed the capacity
and billions of times the speed of the human brain. Nor-
mally we try to avoid thinking of machines in human
terms. This time, let's do the opposite. If Dominus were
human, what would its present characteristics be?"
Rafael Chang had moved forward to stare at the con-
sole, where Bevin had typed in a final character string.
"That's a complex question."
"Give me s simple-minded answer."
"Well, if Dominus were a man, he'd be super-smart.
And he'd have total recall."
"Correct. But of what? Only what you kept in the local
data banks. Only the hard sciences. But you were setting
problems for the machine that required more than intelli-
gence and memory -- you were calling for judgment, even
wisdom. Dominus is no more than a very bright baby, an
idiot savant with fantastic logic and computation power,
but shielded from knowledge of most of the real world. In
human terms, you have a data-starved supergenius. Do
you wonder that sometimes Dominus seems unbalanced
and insane, and comes back with completely outlandish
solutions?"
"The communication links is up," broke in Bevin. "See,
that's the Library of Congress access code. Information
transfer has begun do Dominus's data banks. It's going to
take a long time, though. The satellite link has a gigabaud
transmission rate, but we're tapping into some colossal
files back there."
On the screen, a steadily increasing numerical index
recorded the receipt of the incoming files. As the final
sysgen for all components of Dominus was complete, the
index became a continuous of green.
"Good," said Armstrong. "Do you think we can hold
this rate? Won't Dominus have to slow down for sort and
store activities?"
"Not for a gigabaud line," Bevin looked pleased for the
first time in several hours. "A billion bits a second is
nothing for this machine. Receiving at this rate exercises
less than a millionth of Dominus's capacity. It won't be
wasted, though. The rest of the time, the associative mem-
ory will be examining data redundancy and cross-correla-
tions. It will ---"
He paused and turned his head. "What's that noise?
They can't possibly know we've turned Dominus on ahead
of schedule."
There had been an abrupt change in the sounds reach-
ing them from the crowd outside. The steady chant had
become an outburst of hysterical screams and shouting.
The three men left the console with its flickering display
of data receipt and hurried over to look out of the window.
The people below were no longer looking towards the
building. Every head had turned to the horizon. After the
initial cries of surprise, the members of the Church of
Christ Ascending had fallen silent. The wind had dropped
and the evening air was totally still and clear. Orion hung
in the eastern sky, in the familiar outlines of the celestial
hunter. Below and to the left of the constellation was a
fiery point of unbelievable blue. It grew in intensity sec-
ond by second.
"Sirius," said Armstrong, almost under his breath. "That
has to be Sirius."
"Yeah." Bevin squinted at the dazzling point of light.
"But it's too bright. Way too bright -- see, it's throwing
shadows down there. It's a nova. But it's the wrong stellar
type for a nova."
"They don't care," said Chang. "Look at them."
The people below were falling to their knees on the
snowy ground. The star, still increasing in brightness, was
turning the outside floodlights to pale yellow ghosts.
"Of course they don't," said Armstrong. "It's what they've
been praying for. The sign, and star in the east. The com-
ing of Dominus."
"That's absurd." Chang gave a snort of uneasy laughter.
"Sirius is lightyears away. The nova must have happened
a long time ago, for the explosion to be reaching us now."
"Eight point seven lightyears, I think," said Bevin qui-
etly. "So it happened about May of '91. That was when
we had our conceptual design and began to assemble the
first components of Dominus."
He drew a deep breath. The waxing star was brighter
moment by moment, returning a blue-edged day to the
sleeping, snow-covered earth.
"But that doesn't explain anything really," Bevin went
on at last. "How could a signal get out to Sirius instanta-
neously? Why didn't that take eight years?"
"I think only Dominus can give you an answer," said
Armstrong. He shielded his eyes from the light outside.
"The star in the east. You said the machine had a sense of
humor, but no sense of proportion. I believe that point has
been proved. Let's hope you're as accurate about some-
thing else, too."
He returned away from the window to look at the console,
still flashing its record of new files received and stored.
The history file transfer had been completed, and now
the art and music sections of the Library of Congress
stacks were being tapped. Another mountain of data was
being transmitted. The record of ten thousand years of
human activities was speeding in through the communi-
cations link. It would show the steps of mankind's long
struggle upward, from blind unknowing to self-awareness.
Every dream, every great thought, and every slip back
towards darkness, all were in the record. Nothing would
be omitted. A hundred centuries of anguish, triumph, blood-
shed, emotion, self-sacrifice, love and laughter were stream-
ing in, to be examined, evaluated and stored by the
computer.
Armstrong reached out and touched the screen with his
fingertips, as though seeking the electronic life that flick-
ered and flashed behind the cool glass.
"Let's hope that Dominus is a faster learner."
--
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