“And yet, twelve years into it, you could still be taken in?” Lilly stared at him disbelievingly. “If this was anything at all like the experiment you expected, you’d have to have recognized it. Even if your memories of actually commencing it were suppressed, you’d know enough to figure out what all that business early on had been about. The only explanation has to be that the possibility of a simulation that would keep running for years never entered your head. Therefore, it must have gone way past anything envisaged in the plans that you knew about. Maybe the reason I saw through it first was that I didn’t know what the simulation was supposed to be.”
Corrigan had to nod—he had said as much himself when they talked before at Lilly’s place. The first phase was supposed to have consisted just of progressively more elaborate tests. A comprehensive, extended simulation of the kind they were in wouldn’t follow until much later. “Nothing like this was even scheduled,” he admitted.
“Well, it seems somebody scheduled it,” Lilly said pointedly.
In short, had he ever been as in control of things as he imagined? And if he had not, then who had been in control?
And still was?
Chapter Twenty-seven
The CLC Board decided to go with the proposal to attempt evolving an Artificial Intelligence by means of machine-directed animations learning to mimic human surrogates in a virtual world. The project was designated “Oz,” and to begin with, half a floor was allocated to accommodate it in the IE Block at Blawnox. This did not mean abandoning COSMOS, however, since an all-neural interface as envisaged from COSMOS would be essential for coupling in the human surrogates for Oz. Hence, COSMOS was recast as a subsidiary goal in the greater plan.
The COSMOS part of the program was left under Tyron’s management, as had been the original intention, and the overall direction of Oz entrusted to Pinder, with Corrigan heading up the groups responsible for developing the animation-driver software. Peter Quell, Pinder’s deputy, stood in as acting head of the rest of the R & D division. The most obvious aspect of this arrangement was the temporary nature of Pinder’s overseeing role in getting Oz off the ground. When he returned to his regular job as R & D chief, an opening would be left for a permanent technical director for the Oz project. And just as clearly, the only two real candidates for the position would be Corrigan and Tyron.
Corrigan remained undaunted and cockily confident. “He’s just an interface man,” he said to Evelyn on one of the evenings that were becoming rarer when they both got away early enough to have dinner in. “We’re into big systems now. Complex, adaptive systems. And that’s my territory.”
Evelyn was less sanguine. “Tyron’s got people behind him, here and outside CLC, who’ve staked a lot on seeing their man in control,” she reminded him. “They’re not going to go away, Joe. I mean, who are we talking about that we know? Velucci was there at the first meeting with SDC, wasn’t he?—he has to be involved. Probably others from corporate, above Pinder. Maybe even Endelmyer. Certainly Harry Morgen and the others who followed Tyron. And others outside CLC, who must have had a hand in keeping the work on DIVAC in the public domain and nonlicensable. They’re not just interface people. And they’re not people who are going to sit back and watch while somebody throws a wrench in.”
Corrigan speared a piece of steak with his fork and held it in a so-what pose. “They need what I’ve got,” he said. “I’m the only one who can deliver Oz in the time they’re committed to, and they know it. So what can they do?”
“I don’t know, Joe. But be careful,” Evelyn said.
* * *
The months that followed saw a lot of activity to extend the funding and support for Oz onto a wider base beyond CLC. Corrigan was too preoccupied with technical issues to pay much attention to background politics, but one day the company announced that Feller & Faber were coming in as cosponsors of Oz, which would be set up and run under a new, jointly owned corporation, “Xylog,” dedicated to the project. F & F in turn were able to channel further funding from their lucrative client base, and very soon the original scheme that was to have been housed on a half-floor at the existing Blawnox facility gave way to a greatly expanded vision using more, bigger, and better machines, many more people, and occupying a site of its own elsewhere. F & F and its associates would manage the financial side of the joint venture, with somebody from CLC—yet to be designated—directing the technical operations. So in essence nothing changed as far as Corrigan and Tyron were concerned; it had all just shifted to a higher level.