It thus functioned more as a supercomputing extension of the operator’s own natural abilities, its feedback facilities evoking in him a direct perceptual insight to complex phenomena in a way that could never have been rivaled by mere symbols written on pieces of paper. The dynamics of riding a bicycle can be represented as a complicated string of differential equations, the solutions of which will infallibly tell the rider what he should do to avoid falling off when confronted by a given set of conditions—speed, curve of road, weight of rider, etc. The young child, however, does not concern himself with any of this; he simply feels the right thing to do—given some practice—and does it. In an analogous fashion, the BIAC operator could feel and steer his way through his problem. It was the perfect tool for handling Clifford’s k-function solutions.
Only a handful of BIACs had been built, and all of them were undergoing government evaluation trials under conditions of strictest security. The offer to make available to Sudbury one of the next three scheduled to be built provided, therefore, as convincing a measure as anyone could ask for of the significance attached to the Institute’s work. Even so, it would take three months or so for the machine to become available.
Security of the BIAC posed a problem that had to be solved during that period. Dismantling the GRASER and the detector and shipping them elsewhere would have been possible as a last resort, but the magnitude of the task promised to be horrendous. Eventually Peter Hughes suggested an arrangement that, although falling below the requirements usually stipulated for that type of situation, was granted a special dispensation. Structural alterations were made to the GRASER building to seal off all entry points apart from the main door and a fire exit at the rear, which was operable from the inside only. Everything and everybody not directly involved with the project were moved into other accommodations elsewhere at the Institute. Then, finally, access to the building was limited to a few specially designated people, and two officers of the State Police were to be stationed at the door around the clock to insure that the rules were observed.
Clifford saw these developments as portents of things to come, and his misgivings intensified. Life took an unexpected turn, however, and soon he was too preoccupied with other things to brood about such matters. He was sent away for six weeks to undergo an intensive course in BIAC operation on a machine already installed at the Navy’s equipment evaluation laboratories in Baltimore. Aub remained at Sudbury, being too immersed in the design details and preparations for Mark II to afford any time away. He would follow later.
* * *
For the first couple of days after his arrival in Baltimore, Clifford sat through a series of lectures and tutorials aimed at imparting some essential concepts of BIAC operation and at giving the class some preliminary benefits from the techniques that others had developed.
“The BIAC becomes an efficient tool when you’ve learned to forget that it’s there,” one of the instructors told them. “Treat it as if you were learning to play the piano—concentrate on accuracy and let speed come in its own time. Once you can play a piano well, you let your hands do all the work and just sit back and enjoy the music. The same thing happens with a BIAC.”
Eventually Clifford found himself sitting before the operator’s console in one of the cubicles adjacent to the machine room while an instructor adjusted the lightweight skull-harness around his head for the first time. For about a half-hour they went through the routine of calibrating the machine to Clifford’s brain patterns, and then the instructor keyed in a command string and sat back in his chair.
“Okay,” the instructor pronounced. “It’s live now. All yours, Brad.”
An eerie sensation seemed to take possession of Clifford’s mind, as if a bottomless chasm had suddenly opened up beside it to leave it perched precariously on the brink. He had once stood in the center of the parabolic dish of a large radio telescope and had never forgotten the experience of being able to shout at the top of his voice and hear only a whisper as the sound was reflected away. Now he was experiencing the same kind of feeling, but this time it was his thoughts that were being snatched away.