“Is that all?”
“‘Is that all?’ My dear boy!”
“Prof, how many history books have you read?”
“I do not know. In excess of a thousand.”
“Mike can zip through that many this afternoon, speed limited only by scanning method–he can store data much faster. Soon–minutes—he would have every fact correlated with everything else he knows, discrepancies noted, probability values assigned to uncertainties. Prof, Mike reads every word of every newspaper up from Terra. Reads all technical publications. Reads fiction–knows it’s fiction–because isn’t enough to keep him busy and is always hungry for more. If is any book he should read to solve this, say so. He can cram it down fast as I get it to him.”
Prof blinked. “I stand corrected. Very well, let us see if he can cope with it. I still think there is something known as ‘intuition’ and ‘human judgment.'”
“Mike has intuition,” Wych said. “Feminine intuition, that is.”
“As for ‘human judgment,'” I added, “Mike isn’t human. But all he knows he got from humans. Let’s get you acquainted and you judge his judgment.”
So I phoned. “Hi, Mike!”
“Hello, Man my only male friend. Greetings, Wyoh my only female friend. I heard a third person. I conjecture that it may be Professor Bernardo de la Paz.”
Prof looked startled, then delighted. I said, “Too right, Mike. That’s why I called you; Professor is not-stupid.”
“Thank you, Man! Professor Bernardo de la Paz, I am delighted to meet you.”
“I am delighted to meet you, too, sir.” Prof hesitated, went on “Mi–Señor Holmes, may I ask how you knew that I was here?”
“I am sorry, sir; I cannot answer. Man? ‘You know my methods.'”
“Mike is being crafty, Prof. It involves something he learned doing a confidential job for me. So he threw me a hint to let you think that he had identified you by hearing your presence–and he can indeed tell much from respiration and heartbeat . . . mass, approximate age, sex, and quite a bit about health; Mike’s medical storage is as full as any other.”
“I am happy to say,” Mike added seriously, “that I detect no signs of cardiac or respiratory trouble, unusual for a man of the Professor’s age who has spent so many years Earthside. I congratulate you, sir.”
“Thank you, Señor Holmes.”
“My pleasure, Professor Bernardo de la Paz.”
“Once he knew your identity, he knew how old you are, when you were shipped and what for, anything that ever appeared about you in Lunatic or Moonglow or any Lunar publication, including pictures–your bank balance, whether you pay bills on time, and much more. Mike retrieved this in a split second once he had your name. What he didn’t tell–because was my business–is that he knew I had invited you here, so it’s a short jump to guess that you’re still here when he heard heartbeat and breathing that matched you. Mike, no need to say ‘Professor Bernardo de la Paz’ each time; ‘Professor’ or”Prof’ is enough.”
“Noted, Man. But he addressed me formally, with honorific.”
“So both of you relax. Prof, you scan it? Mike knows much, doesn’t tell all, knows when to keep mouth shut.”
“I am impressed!”
“Mike is a fair dinkum thinkum–you’ll see. Mike, I bet Professor three to two that Yankees would win pennant again. How chances?”
“I am sorry to hear it, Man. The correct odds, this early in the year and based on past performances of teams and players, are one to four point seven two the other way.”
“Can’t be that bad!”
“I’m sorry, Man. I will print out the calculations if you wish. But I recommend that you buy back your wager. The Yankees have a favorable chance to defeat any single team . . . but the combined chances of defeating all teams in the league, including such factors as weather, accidents, and other variables for the season ahead, place the club on the short end of the odds I gave you.”
“Prof, want to sell that bet?”
“Certainly, Manuel.”
“Price?”
“Three hundred Hong Kong dollars.”
“You old thief!”
“Manuel, as you former teacher I would be false to you if I did not permit you to learn from mistakes. Señor Holmes–Mike my friend–May I call you ‘friend’?”