“The system is operating right on its edge,” Corrigan murmured. “You see, it didn’t know what to make the dog do. Somebody must have got a shot of the next-door dog when they were here realscaping the house, but they didn’t know what name it answered to, or how it behaves. So the system took its cue from me. That’s what it was designed to do.” He inclined his head, still gazing out across the road. “Are those animations of real neighbors that somebody got views of, or are they characters that the system invented? I don’t know, because I’ve never talked to anyone around here. But the system couldn’t be aware of that. If I did know what the guy who lives there looks like, I’d be in a position to catch it out. If I walked across and went into his house, do I know what I ought to find there, or could the system get away with making up an interior of its own? It can’t tell. You see, again, we’ve got it right on the edge.”
Lilly looked out of the window, and then uncomfortably back at Corrigan. “This is getting weird.”
“Hell, it’s been weird for a long time, Lilly.”
He helped Lilly out of her coat and hung it, along with his own, on the rack by the door. “That’s interesting, Joe,” she agreed after she had absorbed what he was getting at. “But how is it supposed to help?”
“I’m not exactly sure yet. But when something’s stretched to its limits, that’s when you find where its weaknesses are.” He led the way into the kitchen and tipped the old filter and grounds from the coffeemaker into the trash bin. “Anyhow, simulation or not, it activates the same taste centers. Let’s get the pot on.”
“I could use one.” Lilly looked around at the mess he had left that morning—the sinkful of dishes; papers from work spread over the table; bread, cheese, pickles, and mayonnaise for his sandwich still not put away. “Boy, you sure have been on your own for three weeks,” she commented.
“Ah, don’t start giving me any of that old bilge,” he warned. “It’s been hectic at Xylog. And since I woke up yesterday I’ve had other things on my mind than housekeeping.”
Lilly opened the dishwasher and shook her head despairingly at the pile of crockery and kitchenware inside. “Where’s the detergent?” she sighed.
“I can’t remember. It’s been twelve years since I saw it. Try the cupboard under the sink.”
Lilly opened the door and squatted down to look. “The stupid thing is that there’s really no need for any of this. Why go to the trouble of creating a simulated world and build in all the limitations of the real one? You could just have a code word or something that gets this done in an instant.” She found the detergent, stood up, and poured detergent into the dishwasher while Corrigan loaded items from the sink. “You could make life really comfortable, when you think about it.”
“Magic words, eh? You’re right. That’s exactly the kind of world we could create. We haven’t scratched the surface of this business yet, Lilly.”
She switched on the machine and began collecting assorted jars and dishes together to either throw out or put in the refrigerator. “You see what I mean,” she said. “Look at all this. Why is it necessary to have stuff dry up and go bad? Couldn’t we have a simulation without mimicking the effects of microbes?”
“Why stop at that?” he asked her. “Maybe you’d never get too hot or too cold, cut your finger, get a bruise, or catch flu, either. Talk to anyone anytime, and be anywhere in an instant.”
“Well, why not?”
“People might never want to come out of it.” Corrigan shook his head and set down two mugs that he had found for the coffees. “There’s all kinds of things to find out. The whole thing’s being rushed too fast, and for all the wrong reasons. That’s how we come to be stuck in here.” Which brought them back to the immediate issue at hand.
“You said we were here to look for the clue to a way out that Tom says you planted somewhere,” she said.