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发信人: by (春天的小懒虫), 信区: SFworld
标  题: 2010 (21)
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Wed Oct  6 14:45:49 1999), 转信

                         21
                    Resurrection

We are, Floyd told himself, about to awaken a sleeping
giant. How will Hal react to our presence, after all these
years? What will he remember of the past - and will he be
friendly, or hostile?
  As he floated just behind Dr Chandra in the zero-gravity
environment of Discovery's flight deck, Floyd's mind was
seldom far from the cut-off switch, installed and tested only
a few hours earlier. The radio control was mere centimetres
from his hand, and he felt somewhat foolish to have
brought it with him. At this stage, Hal was still discon-
nected from all the ship's operational circuits. Even if he was
reactivated, he would be a brain without limbs though not
without sense organs. He would be able to communicate,
but not to act. As Curnow had put it, `The worst he can do
is swear at us.'
  `I'm ready for the first test, Captain,' said Chandra. `All
the missing modules have been replaced, and I've run
diagnostic programs on all circuits. Everything appears
normal, at least on this level.'
  Captain Orlova glanced at Floyd, who gave a nod. At
Chandra's insistence, only the three of them were present
for this critical first run, and it was quite obvious that even
this small audience was unwelcome.
  `Very well, Dr Chandra.' Ever conscious of protocol, the
captain added quickly: `Dr Floyd has given his approval,
and I have no objections myself.'
  `I should explain,' said Chandra, in a tone that clearly
conveyed disapproval, `that his voice-recognition and
speech-synthesis centres have been damaged. We'll have to
teach him to speak all over again. Luckily, he learns several
million times faster than a human being.'
  The scientist's fingers danced over the keyboard as he
typed out a dozen words, apparently at random, carefully
pronouncing each one as it appeared on the screen. Like a
distorted echo, the words came back from the speaker grille
- lifeless, indeed mechanical, with no sense of any intel-
ligence behind them. This isn't the old Hal, thought Floyd.
It's no better than the primitive speaking toys that were such
a novelty when I was a kid.
  Chandra pressed the REPEAT button, and the series of
words sounded once again. Already, there was a noticeable
improvement, though no one could have mistaken the
speaker for a human being.
  `The words I gave him contain the basic English
phonemes; about ten iterations, and he'll be acceptable. But
I don't have the equipment to do a really good job of
therapy.'
  `Therapy?' asked Floyd. `You mean that he's - well,
brain-damaged?'
  `No,' snapped Chandra. `The logic circuits are in perfect
condition. Only the voice output may be defective, though
it will improve steadily. So check everything against the
visual display, to avoid misinterpretations.  And when you
do speak, enunciate carefully.'
  Floyd gave Captain Orlova a wry smile, and asked the
obvious question.
  `What about all the Russian accents around here?'
  `I'm sure that won't be a problem with Captain Orlova
and Dr Kovalev. But with the others - well, we'll have to
run individual tests. Anyone who can't pass will have to use
the keyboard.'
  `That's still looking a long way ahead. For the present.
you're the only person who should attempt communication.
Agreed, Captain?'
  `Absolutely.'
  Only the briefest of nods revealed that Dr Chandra had
heard them. His fingers continued to fly over the keyboard,
and columns of words and symbols flashed across the dis-
play screen at such a rate that no human being could pos-
sibly assimilate them. Presumably Chandra had an eidetic
memory, for he appeared to recognize whole pages of in-
formation at a glance.
  Floyd and Orlova were just about to leave the scientist to
his arcane devotions when he suddenly acknowledged their
presence again, holding up his hand in warning or anticipa-
tion. With an almost hesitant movement, in marked con-
trast with his previous swift actions, he slid back a locking
bar and pressed a single, isolated key.
  Instantly, with no perceptible pause, a voice came from
the console, no longer in a mechanical parody of human
speech. There was intelligence - consciousness - self-
awareness here, though as yet only on a rudimentary level.
  `Good morning, Dr Chandra. This is Hal. I am ready for
my first lesson.'
  There was a moment of shocked silence; then, acting on
the same impulse, the two observers left the deck.
  Heywood Floyd would never have believed it. Dr
Chandra was crying.

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