There was little here in the way of visually entertaining demonstrations. Maguire showed them screens of symbolic diagrams representing abstract software relationships, and charts that tracked growth and decay trends in mixed populations of numerically defined entities that he referred to as “species.” The term was no misnomer. The aim of the research that Maguire and his team were engaged in was, in effect, to induce the emergence of intelligent behavior from neural-system analogs.
“. . . assuming that anything that has appeared in the natural world so far can be called intelligent,” Maguire said. “The notion shouldn’t be so strange to you, Joe. We talked about it often enough.”
“We did, that.”
Dermot elaborated for Evelyn’s benefit. “The idea, essentially, is to let a computer-intelligence follow the same route as we did and evolve from simple beginnings—instead of trying to reproduce in one step all the complexity that resulted from a billion years of selection and improvement.”
“I’ve never believed that was practical, as I’m sure Joe will have told you,” Maguire said to Evelyn.
She smiled. “At least a thousand times, at the last count. Top-down won’t work, right?”
“That’s right. We simply don’t have the detailed knowledge to specify it,” Maguire said. “Nobody has.”
“So how far back did you go to begin?” Corrigan asked him, intrigued.
“The groupings that I showed you a few minutes ago approximate roughly to early molecular structures,” Maguire replied. “We put a seed population into a simple world in large numbers and let them interact and compete. They’ve been running for the equivalent of several million years now, I’d say.”
“And the species you have now are performing at about the level of insects?”
“Roughly, we think. The dynamics are completely different from biological competition. Making a direct comparison isn’t easy.”
“Pretty impressive, all the same,” Corrigan commented.
“We do have the benefit of being able to guide things by conscious direction,” Maguire pointed out. “We are able to introduce deliberately engineered genetic combinations when we see fit. That speeds up the process considerably. It’s amazing the difference it makes when God goes into the stock-breeding business.”
“It’s fascinating, all right,” Corrigan agreed. There was an odd light in his eyes. Listening to Maguire and Dermot had rekindled all kinds of enthusiasms from years that he had almost forgotten. He could feel the excitement of real science stirring again: knowledge pursued purely for the sake of knowledge.
“But we need a more realistic simulation of the physical environment if progress is to be sustained,” Maguire went on. “One that will react back on the actions of the population more strongly and drive the selection mechanisms harder. It needs to close the overall organism-environment feedback loop more tightly.”
“This is interesting. . . .” Corrigan’s face took on a faraway look for a moment. “Kind of ironic.”
Maguire looked at the others uncertainly. “What is he talking about?”
“The work that we’re doing back at CLC right now,” Evelyn answered. “On the face of it, it sounds as if it might be an answer to just the kind of problem you’re talking about.”
“Is that so?” Dermot said.
“In that case, you should stop messing around among those Americans, trying to act as if you were a millionaire or a celebrity or something, and get yourself back over here and help out,” Maguire told Corrigan—but he wasn’t being serious.
“No chance,” Dermot declared. “He’s been too seduced by now by thoughts of money and promotion in those big corporations over there.”
Maguire snorted. “Well, don’t let yourself be carried away by it all,” he said to Corrigan. “Remember that the higher a monkey climbs, the more of an arse it looks.”
Corrigan grinned. “Okay. But I will make sure you get all the information we can let you have that might help,” he offered.
“That would be something we’d appreciate,” Maguire said.
* * *
For lunch they drove down to the Cobh Hotel in the center of the town, which was where Corrigan and Evelyn were staying. Ballygarven was a small boating resort grown from a fishing village that stood at the head of an inlet where the sea twisted its way among rocky headlands and shingle beaches. Behind the town, heather-covered slopes and marshlands rose toward a ridge of granite-topped summits a mile or two away. Evelyn was doubly glad that she and Corrigan had decided to make this trip to the west of Ireland before they left. It was just as she had pictured, ever since Dermot began describing it soon after their arrival.