“Computers interact better with other computers,” Evelyn said.
“Yes. Quite.” Minsky nodded. “So what you do is plug your infant into another computer that’s pretending to be a world. But getting a virtual world to be real enough is another matter.”
Corrigan clapped his hands as if that was a cue that he had been waiting for. “And that’s why we’re doing what we’re doing at CLC in the meantime,” he told Evelyn. “Learning how to make better virtual worlds. So now you can see where the work you’ll be doing fits in. Believe me, it’s going to be a lot of fun.”
“Promise?” she said teasingly.
Corrigan spread his hands in appeal and turned toward Minsky. “Look. Aren’t the Irish eyes smiling?”
“You’re going to be ripped off,” Minsky said to Evelyn, shrugging.
* * *
But Eric Shipley was in a far-from-fun mood when Corrigan got back to Pittsburgh the next day. “Pinder has been having visitors from California and D.C.” he told Corrigan. “Space Defense Command, and DOD. High-level stuff. Something’s in the wind. I don’t like the feel of it.”
Corrigan remained unperturbed. “Politics and science are inseparable these days, Eric. You’ve got to move with the times. This could be an impending moment of opportunity.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” Shipley replied. “Pinder has called a major meeting to review progress and plans for the whole Pinocchio program. Tomorrow morning in town, nine o’clock sharp.”
Chapter Eleven
Jason Pinder opened the meeting, which was held in one of the conference rooms in the corporate headquarters building on First Avenue. He was slight and wiry in build, and with his short, straight, sandy hair, clipped mustache, and invariable habit of dressing in conventional suits of gray, tan, or brown, had always put Corrigan in mind of a retired British army officer or a schoolmaster. But the mild gray eyes turned out to be a deceptive front for a mind as compulsively restless as a computer’s registers, ceaselessly analyzing, shuffling, and sorting in search of better options. Not that this came as any great surprise. Anyone who had made it to the upper ranks of a leading-edge company like CLC could be assumed to possess the requisite qualities.
Next to him, crisp and businesslike in a black suit and snowy shirt, was the swarthy, curly-haired figure of John Velucci, executive director of CLC’s Legal Department. “Tell me why he’s here,” Shipley muttered to Corrigan as they sat down. “Want to know what I think? Whatever this is all about has already been decided. The meeting is to tell us the way it is.”
“You’re too suspicious, you know, Eric,” Corrigan answered. But the words were automatic. For once, even Corrigan’s manner was curious and restrained.
Also present from CLC were Pinder’s deputy, Peter Quell; Tom Hatcher, Corrigan’s software supervisor on the Pinocchio program; and a hardware wizard called Barry Neinst. Neinst was described on the organizational charts as responsible for “Advanced Processing,” and appeared on the bar of loosely affiliated names, connecting vertically to Pinder’s, that was tagged collectively “Direct Neural Coupling.” What this really meant was obscure, and in practice he led a somewhat nomadic existence, wandering between Shipley’s DINS section, the MIMIC/Pinocchio group headed by Corrigan, and a collection of graphics specialists known as “Interactive Imagery.” This latter group was represented by Ivy Dupale, a short, bouncy, frizzy-haired brunette who had been put in charge as a temporary measure eighteen months previously, and the situation was never regularized or revised.
There were four people from the Space Defense Command’s Operations Training & Simulator Center at Inglewood: Henry Wernheim, solid, craggy, with silver, wavy hair and steely eyes, the director; Frank Tyron, lean, tanned, and bespectacled, project manager of the VIV program (VIsion & Voice head-mounted assembly); and two of his technical support people: Joan Sutton and Harry Morgen.
After making the introductions, Pinder opened, addressing himself principally to the side of the table where the CLC people were sitting.
“I don’t have to tell you that the field we’re in is an exciting one, and one that is crucial to some of the most important developments going on in the world today. That includes the public and private space programs that are currently coming together here, across in Europe, and in Japan.” He paused, allowing a suitably serious note to assert itself. “Hence, we can expect a lot of competition worldwide, both in terms of the funding being made available, and of the caliber of talent that we’ll be up against. And, indeed, we see a lot of that happening already. What it means is that we’re going to have to work extra hard and move fast just to stay in the same relative place. What it means even more is that we at CLC are going to need, and will appreciate, all the help we can get.” He glanced along the other side of the table to indicate the visitors. “I am pleased to be able to inform you that, as a result of recent negotiations, we now have an opportunity to benefit from some very substantial help indeed, from a solid, trustworthy direction.”