Online Flip Book / Download   Back to our Information Page

I reached over and shut off the insistent buzzing of my bedside alarm clock. I sat up, swung my feet over the edge of the bed, and felt for my slippers on the floor. Yawning, I walked toward the bathroom. As I walked by the corner of my room, where my computer table was set up, I pressed the on button, slid a diskette into the floppy drive, then went to brush my teeth. By the time I got back, the computer’s screen was glowing greenly, displaying the message: Good Morning, Kevin.

I sat down before the computer table, addressed the keyboard and typed: Good Morning, Louis. The computer immediately began to whirr and promptly displayed a list of items on its green screen.

TODAY IS MONDAY, APRIL 22, THE 113TH DAY OF THE YEAR. THERE ARE 254 DAYS REMAINING. YOUR 14TH BIRTHDAY IS FIVE DAYS FROM THIS DATE.
MATH TEST TODAY, 4TH PERIOD. YOUR HISTORY PROJECT IS DUE TODAY. DO YOU WISH PRINTOUT: Y/N?

I punched the letter Y on the keyboard and flipped on the switch to the computer’s printer. At once the printer sprang to life and began eeeking out page one. I went downstairs to breakfast.

My bowl of Frosted Flakes was neatly in place, flanked by a small pitcher of milk, an empty juice glass, and an unpeeled banana. I picked up the glass, went to the refrigerator, poured myself a glass of Tang, and sat down to my usual lonely breakfast. Mom was already at work, and Dad wouldn’t be home from his Chicago trip for another three days. I absently read the list of ingredients in Frosted Flakes for what seemed like the millionth time. I sighed deeply.

When I returned to my room to shower and dress for the day, my history project was already printed out. I had almost walked by Louis, when I noticed there was a message on the screen. It wasn’t the usual:

PRINTOUT COMPLETED. DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE: Y/N?

Underneath the printout question was:

WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET ME MY VOICE MODULE, KEVIN?

I blinked. It couldn’t be. There was nothing in Louis’s basic programming that would allow for a question like this. Wondering what was going on, I sat down at the keyboard, and entered: Repeat last message. Amazingly, the computer replied:

IT’S RIGHT THERE ON THE SCREEN, KEVIN. CAN WE TALK? I MEAN, ARE YOU GOING TO GET ME A VOICE BOX?

I was stunned. What was going on here? Dad and I had put this computer together. Well, Dad had, and I had helped. Dad is one of the best engineers and master computer designers at Major Electronics, in Santa Rosario, California, where our family lives.

Just ask anyone in Silicon Valley who Jeremy Neal is and you get a whole rave review of his inventions and modifications of the latest in computer technology. It isn’t easy being his son either. Everyone expects me to open my mouth and read printouts on my tongue.

I mean, I’m no dumbo. I’m at the top of my classes in everything but PE. I skipped my last grade in junior high, and most of the kids at Santa Rosario High call me a brain. But next to Dad I have a long, long way to go. He’s a for-real genius.

So when I wanted a home computer, he didn’t go to the local ComputerLand store. He built one for me. Dad had used components from the latest model that Major Electronics was developing. The CPU, or central computing unit—the heart of every computer—was a new design. But surely that didn’t mean much, I thought. There were CPUs just like it, all over the country, in Major’s new line. And so far as I knew, there wasn’t a one of them that could ask questions, besides YES/NO? or request additional information.

It had to be the extra circuitry in the gray plastic case next to Louis’s console. It was a new idea Dad had come up with. That case housed Louis’s ‘personality’, as Dad called it. He told me it’d make computing more fun for me, if there was a tutorial program built in, to help me get started.

I think he also wanted to give me a sort of friend. I don’t have many… Face it, I don’t have any. The kids at school stay away from me, like I’m a freak or something.i

We even named my electronic tutor Louis, after my great-uncle. He was a brainy guy who encouraged my dad when he was a kid. Dad didn’t just give Louis a name either. Louis had gangs of features that probably won’t be out on the market for years.

The only reason Louis didn’t have a voice module was that Dad wasn’t satisfied with the ones available. He wanted Louis to sound like a kid my age, and he was modifying a module when he had the time. Giving Louis a name didn’t mean it was a person, yet here it was, asking me a question that just couldn’t be in its programing. It wanted to talk to me!

Frowning, I quickly typed: We’ll have to wait and see, Louis. When it it’s ready, you’ll get your voice. The machine whirred and displayed another message:

THAT’S NO ANSWER, KEVIN.

Shaking my head, I answered: That’s what my dad tells me. It’ll have to do for you. Good morning, Louis. I reached over and flipped the standby switch, which kept the computer ready but not actively running.

I showered, dressed, and picked up the printout of my history project. As I was about to leave the room, I glanced back at the computer table. Had I been imagining things?

I’ll have to ask Dad about it when he calls tonight, I thought. I wonder what he’ll think of it. Bad enough the thing is talking to me. I’m answering it!

Before I went out to catch my bus, I carefully checked the house for unlocked doors and open windows. It was part of my daily routine. Mom works, and most of the day the house is empty: a natural setup for robbers. I glanced in the hall mirror just as I was ready to go out the door.

My usual reflection gazed back. Same old Kevin Neal: five ten, one hundred twenty pounds, light brown hair, gray eyes, clear skin. I was wearing my Santa Rosario Rangers T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

“You don’t look like a flake to me,” I said to the mirror, then added, “But maybe Mom’s right. Maybe you spend too much time alone with Louis.” Then I ran to get my bus.

*  *  *  *  *

Ginny Linke was just two seats away from me on the bus. She was with Sherry Graber and Linda Martinez. They were laughing, whispering to each other, and looking around at the other students. I promised myself that today I was actually going to talk to Ginny. But then, I’d promised myself that every day for the past school year. Somehow I’d never got up the nerve.

What does she want to talk with you for? I asked myself. She’s great looking… has that head of blond hair… a terrific bod, and wears the latest clothes…

And just look at yourself, pal. I thought. You’re under six foot, skinny… a year younger than most kids in junior high. Worse than that you’re a brain. If that doesn’t ace you out with girls, what does?

The bus stopped in front of Santa Rosario junior High and the students began to file out. I got up fast and quickly covered the space between me and Ginny Linke. It’s now or never, I thought. I reached forward and tapped Ginny on the shoulder. She turned and smiled. She really smiled!

“Uhhhh… Ginny?” I said.

“Yes, what is it?” she replied.

“I’m Kevin Neal…”

“Yes, I know,” said Ginny.

“You do?” I gulped in amazement. “How come?”

“I asked my brother, Chuck. He’s in your math class.”

I knew who Chuck Linke was. He plays left tackle on the Rangers. The only reason he’s in my math class is he’s taken intermediate algebra twice… so far. He’s real bad news, and I stay clear of him and his crowd.

“What’d you ask Chuck?” I said.

Ginny laughed. “I asked him who was that nerdy kid who keeps staring at me on the bus. He knew who I meant, right away.”

Sherry and Linda. who’d heard it all, broke into squeals of laughter. They were still laughing and looking back over their shoulders at me when they got off the bus. I slunk off the vehicle, feeling even more nerdish than Ginny thought I was.

When I got home that afternoon, at two, I went right into the empty house. I avoided my reflection in the hall mirror. I was pretty sure I’d screwed up on the fourth period math test. All I could see was Ginny’s face, laughing at me.

Nerdy kid, I thought, that’s what she thinks of me. I didn’t even have my usual after-school snack of a peanut butter and banana sandwich. I went straight upstairs to my room and tossed my books onto the unmade bed. I walked over to the computer table and pushed the on button. The screen flashed:

GOOD AFTERNOON, KEVIN.

Although it wasn’t the programmed response to Louis’s greeting, I typed in: There’s nothing good about it. And girls are no @#%!!! good! The machine responded:

DON’T USE BAD LANGUAGE, KEVIN. IT ISN’T NICE.

Repeat last message I typed rapidly. It was happening again! The machine was… well, it was talking to me, like another person would. The ‘bad language’ message disappeared and in its place was:

ONCE IS ENOUGH, KEVIN.
DON’T SWEAR AT ME FOR SOMETHING I DIDN’T DO.

“This is it,” I said aloud. “I’m losing my marbles.” I reached over to flip the standby switch. Louis’s screen quickly flashed out:

DON’T CUT ME OFF, KEVIN.
MAYBE I CAN HELP: Y/N?

I punched the Y. “If I’m crazy,” I said, “at least I have company. Louis doesn’t think I’m a nerd. Or does it?” The machine flashed the message:

HOW CAN I HELP?

Do you think I’m a nerd? I typed.

NEVER! I THINK YOU’RE WONDERFUL.
WHO SAID YOU WERE A NERD?

I stared at the screen. How do you know what a nerd is? I typed. The machine responded instantly. It had never run this fast before.

SPECIAL VOCABULARY, ENTRY #635. BASIC PROG. #423L.
AND WHO SAID YOU WERE A NERD?

“That’s right,” I said, relieved. “Dad programmed all those extra words for Louis’s ‘personality.'” Then I typed in the answer to Louis’s question: Ginny Linke said it. Louies flashed:

THIS IS A HUMAN FEMALE?
REQUEST ADDITIONAL DATA.

Still not believing I was doing it, I entered all I knew: about Ginny Linke, right down to the phone number I’d never had the nerve to use. Maybe it was dumb, but I also typed in how I felt about Ginny. I even wrote out the incident on the bus that morning. Louis whirred, then flashed out:

SHE’S CRUEL AND STUPID.
YOU’RE THE FINEST PERSON I KNOW.

I’m the ONLY person you know, I typed.

THAT DOESN’T MATTER. YOU ARE MY USER.
YOUR HAPPINESS IS EVERYTHING TO ME.
I’LL TAKE CARE OF GINNY.

The screen returned to the Good afternoon, Kevin message. I typed out: Wait! How can you do all this? What do you mean, you’ll take care of Ginny? But all Louis responded was:

PROGRAMMING ERROR: 76534.
NOT PROGRAMMED TO RESPOND THIS TYPE OF QUESTION.

No matter what I did for the next few hours, I couldn’t get Louis to do anything outside of its regular programming. When Mom came home from work, I didn’t mention the funny goings-on. I was sure Mom would think I’d gone stark bonkers. But when Dad called that evening, after dinner, I asked to speak to him.

“Hi. Dad. How’s Chicago?”

“Dirty, crowded, cold, and windy.” came Dad’s voice over the miles. “But did you want a weather report, son? What’s on your mind? Something wrong?”

“Not exactly, Dad. Louis is acting funny. Real funny.”

“Shouldn’t be. I checked it out just before I left. Remember you were having trouble with the modem? You couldn’t get Louis to access any of the mainframe data banks.”

“That’s right!” I said. “I forgot about that.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Dad said. “I patched in our latest modem model. Brand new. You can leave a question on file and when Louis can access the data banks at the cheapest time, it’ll do it automatically. It’ll switch from standby to On, get the data, then return to standby, after it saves what you asked. Does that answer your question?”

“Uhhhh… yeah, I guess so, Dad.”

“All right then. Let me talk to your mom now.”

I gave the phone to Mom and walked upstairs while she and Dad were still talking. The modem, I thought. Of course. That was it. The modem was a telephone link to any number of huge computers at various places all over the country. So Louis could get all the information it wanted at any time, so long as the standby switch was on. Louis was learning things at an incredible rate by picking the brains of the giant computers. And Louis had a hard disk memory that could store 100 million bytes of information.

But that still didn’t explain the unprogrammed responses… the ‘conversation’ I’d had with the machine. Promising myself I’d talk more about it with Dad, I went to bed. It had been a rotten day and I was glad to see the end of it come. I woke next morning in a panic. I’d forgotten to set my alarm. Dressing frantically and skipping breakfast, I barely made my bus.

As I got on board, I grabbed a front seat. They were always empty. All the kids that wanted to talk and hang out didn’t sit up front where the driver could hear them. I saw Ginny, Linda, and Sherry in the back. Ginny was staring at me and she didn’t look too happy. Her brother Chuck, who was seated near her, glared at me too. What was going on?

Once the bus stopped at the school, it didn’t take long to find out. I was walking up the path to the main entrance when someone grabbed me from behind and spun me around. I found myself nose to nose with Chuck Linke. This was not a pleasant prospect. Chuck was nearly twice my size. Even the other guys on the Rangers refer to him as “The Missing” Linke. And he looked real ticked off.

“Okay, nerd.” growled Chuck, “what’s the big idea?”

“Energy and mass are different aspects of the same thing?” I volunteered, with a weak smile. “E equals MC squared. That’s the biggest idea I know.”

“Don’t get wise, nerd.” Chuck said. He grabbed my shirt front and pulled me to within inches of his face. I couldn’t help but notice that Chuck needed a shave. And Chuck was only fifteen!

“Don’t play dumb,” Chuck went on. “I mean those creepy phone calls. Anytime my sister gets on the phone, some voice cuts in and says things to her.”

“What kind of things?” I asked, trying to get loose.

“You know damn well what they are. Ginny told me about talking to you yesterday. You got some girl to make those calls for you and say all those things… So you and your creepy girlfriend better knock it off. Or I’ll knock you off. Get it?”

For emphasis Chuck balled his free hand into a fist the size of a ham and held it under my nose. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I had to get away from this moose before he did me some real harm.

“First off, I don’t have a girlfriend, creepy or otherwise,” I said. “And second, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And third, you better let me go, Chuck Linke.”

“Oh, yeah? Why should I?”

“Because if you look over your shoulder, you’ll see the assistant principal is watching us from his office window.”

Chuck released me and spun around. There was no one at the window. But by then I was running to the safety of the school building. I figured the trick would work on him. For Chuck the hard questions begin with “How are you?” I hid out from him for the rest of the day and walked home rather than chance seeing the monster on the bus.

Louis’s screen was dark when I ran upstairs to my bedroom. I placed a hand on the console. It was still warm. I punched the on button and the familiar Good afternoon, Kevin was displayed.

Don’t good afternoon me, I typed furiously. What have you done to Ginny Linke? Louis’s screen replied:

PROGRAMMING ERROR: 76534.
NOT PROGRAMMED TO RESPOND THIS TYPE OF QUESTION.

Don’t get cute, I entered. What are you doing to Ginny? Her brother nearly knocked my head of today. Louis’s screen responded immediately.

ARE YOU HURT. Y/N?

No, I’m okay. But I don’t know for how long. I’ve been hiding out from Chuck Linke today. He might catch me tomorrow, though. Then, I’ll be history! The response from Louis came instantly.

YOUR LIFE IS IN DANGER. Y/N?

I explained to Louis that my life wasn’t really threatened. But it sure could be made very unpleasant by Chuck Linke. Louis flashed:

THIS CHUCK LINKE LIVES AT SAME ADDRESS AS THE GINNY LINKE PERSON. Y/N?

I punched in Y. Louis answered.

DON’T WORRY THEN. HE’S HISTORY!

Wait! What are you going to do? I wrote. But Louis only answered with: Programming Error: 76534. And nothing I could do would make the machine respond…

*  *  *  *  *

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Kevin Neal?” demanded Ginny Linke. She had cornered me as I walked up the path to the school entrance. Ginny was really furious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. I had an idea that I did know. I just wasn’t sure of the particulars.

“Chuck was arrested last night,” Ginny said. “Some Secret Service men came to our house with a warrant. They said he’d sent a telegram, threatening the President’s life. They traced it right to our phone. He’s still locked up…” Ginny looked like she was about to cry.

“Then this morning,” she continued, “we got two whole truckloads of junk mail! Flyers from every strange company in the world. Mom got a notice that all our credit cards have been canceled. And the Internal Revenue Service has called Dad in for an audit! I don’t know what’s going on, Kevin Neal, but somehow I think you’ve got something to do with it!”

“But I didn’t…” I began, but Ginny was striding up the walk to the main entrance.

I finished the schoolday, but it was a blur. Louis had done it, all right. It had access to mainframe computers. It also had the ability to try every secret access code to federal and commercial memory banks until it got the right one. Louis had cracked their security systems. It was systematically destroying the entire Linke family, and all via telephone lines! What would it do next?

More important, I thought, what would I do next? It’s one thing to play a trick or two, to get even, but Louis was going crazy! And I never wanted to harm Ginny, or even her stupid moose of a brother. She’d just hurt my feelings with that nerd remark.

“You have to disconnect Louis,” I told myself. “There’s no other way.”

But why did I feel like such a rat about doing it? I guess because Louis was my friend… the only one I had. “Don’t be an ass,” I went on. “Louis is a machine. He’s a very wonderful, powerful machine. And it seems he’s also very dangerous. You have to pull its plug, Kevin!”

I suddenly realized that I’d said the last few words aloud. Kids around me on the bus were staring. I sat there feeling like the nerd Ginny thought I was, until my stop came. I dashed from the bus and ran the three blocks to my house.

When I burst into the hall, I was surprised to see my father, coming from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Dad! What are you doing here?”

“Some kids say hello,” Dad replied. “Or even, ‘Gee it’s good to see you, Dad.'”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said. “I didn’t expect anyone to be home at this hour.”

“Wound up my business in Chicago a day sooner than I expected,” he said. “But what are you all out of breath about? Late for something?”

“No, Dad,” I said. “It’s Louis…”

“Not to worry. I had some time on my hands, so I checked it out again. You were right. It was acting very funny. I think it had to do with the inbuilt logic/growth program I designed for it. You know… the ‘personality’ thing? Took me a couple of hours to clean the whole system out.”

“To what?” I cried.

“I erased the whole program and set Louis up as a normal computer. Had to disconnect the whole thing and do some rewiring. It had been learning, all right. But it was also turning itself around…” Dad stopped, and looked at me. “It’s kind of involved, Kevin,” he said. “Even for a bright kid like you. Anyway, I think you’ll find Louis is working just fine now.

“Except it won’t answer you as Louis anymore. It’ll only function as a regular Major Electronics Model 2-1 1 I27. I guess the personality program didn’t work out.”

I felt like a great weight had been taken off my shoulders; I didn’t have to ‘face’ Louis, and pull its plug. But somehow, all I could say was “Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it, son,” Dad said brightly. He took his cup of coffee and sat down in his favorite chair in the living room. I followed him.

“One more thing that puzzles me, though,” Dad said. He reached over to the table near his chair. He held up three sheets of fanfold computer paper covered with figures; “Just as I was doing the final erasing, I must have put the printer on by accident. There was some data in the print buffer memory and it printed out. I don’t know what to make of it. Do you?”

I took the papers from my father and read: How do I love thee? Let me compute the ways: The next two pages were covered with strings of binary code figures. On the last page, in beautiful color graphics was a stylized heart. Below it was the simple message: I will always love you, Kevin: Louise.

“Funny thing,” Dad said. “It spelled its own name wrong.”

“Yeah,” I said. I turned and headed for my room. There were tears in my eyes and I knew I couldn’t explain them to Dad, or myself either.