of spare computer capacity; right now, there was a nationwide glut of it. Accordingly no one objected when he made use of it on evenings and weekends. He had been well paid for most of his working life, and thanks to having simple tastes he was now rich. But hiring the computer capacity he currently needed would wipe out his fortune in a month.
Of course he scrupulously reimbursed the firm for the materials he used, the tape, the paper and the power.
His project stemmed from the fact that, being a very rational man indeed, he could become nearly as angry as a dedicated Trainite when the most spectacular fruit of some promising new human achievement turned out to be a disaster. Computers, he maintained, had made it possible for virtually every advance to be studied beforehand in enough model situations to allow of sober, constructive exploitation. Of course, renting them was expensive—but so was hiring lawyers to defend you if you were charged with infringing the Environment Acts: so was fighting an FDA ban; so was a suit from some injured nobody with a strong pressure-group at his back. And when you added money spent on vain attempts to shut the stable door by such organizations as Earth Community Chest, Globe Relief or the “Save the Med” Fund, the total cost became heartbreaking. What a waste!
When, at thirty-three, he had abandoned his former career as a freelance R&D consultant and decided to train as an actuary, he had vaguely hoped that an insurance company, being concerned with the effects of human shortsightedness, might set up a special department to foster his project and pay for proper staff. That hadn’t worked out. It had had to remain effectively a one-man show.
So he was a long, long way from his ultimate goal: nothing less than a world-simulation program.
But he was a patient man, and the shock of such catastrophes as the creation of the Mekong Desert had brought more and more people around to the conclusion he had reached long ago. Whether or not it could be done, it absolutely must be done.
Of course, he was in the same predicament as weather forecasters had been before computers, continually overwhelmed by fresh data that required slow, piecemeal processing. But he had already worked out many trial-and-error techniques for automatically updating his program, and in another twenty years ... He enjoyed good health, and watched his diet carefully.
Besides, he wasn’t after perfect accuracy. Something about as precise as weather forecasting would suit admirably. Just so long as it permitted men who were neither reckless nor cowardly to monitor human progress. (He often used the word in conversation. Many of his acquaintances regarded him as old-fashioned because of it.)
“When someone next complains that the use of insecticides has resulted in an orchard-bred pest eating his magnolias, remind him that but for the improved diet made possible when the orchards were cleared of maggots he might not own a garden to plant magnolias in. Verb. sap.
Yours, etc.,
T.M. Grey,
Ph.D., M.Sc.”
COME CLEAN
One thing you can tell right away about the owner of a Hailey. He has a healthy respect for other people.
A Hailey takes up no more of the road than is necessary.
The noise a Hailey makes is only a gentle hum.
And it leaves the air far cleaner than gas-driven cars.
Even if they are filter-tipped.
So the driver of a Hailey can get close enough to other people to see their smiles and hear their murmurs of approval.
What’s your car doing for interpersonal relations?
YOU DIG
The shovel bit in, carried away another cubic foot or so of snow—and there wasn’t anywhere to put it except on top of more snow.
Still, at least he hadn’t hit a body when he plunged it in.
Pete Goddard ached. Or rather, what he could feel of himself ached. It had started in his soles when he’d been in the snow for half an hour. Then it had crept up to his ankles. Around the time the pain infected his calves he’d
Of course he scrupulously reimbursed the firm for the materials he used, the tape, the paper and the power.
His project stemmed from the fact that, being a very rational man indeed, he could become nearly as angry as a dedicated Trainite when the most spectacular fruit of some promising new human achievement turned out to be a disaster. Computers, he maintained, had made it possible for virtually every advance to be studied beforehand in enough model situations to allow of sober, constructive exploitation. Of course, renting them was expensive—but so was hiring lawyers to defend you if you were charged with infringing the Environment Acts: so was fighting an FDA ban; so was a suit from some injured nobody with a strong pressure-group at his back. And when you added money spent on vain attempts to shut the stable door by such organizations as Earth Community Chest, Globe Relief or the “Save the Med” Fund, the total cost became heartbreaking. What a waste!
When, at thirty-three, he had abandoned his former career as a freelance R&D consultant and decided to train as an actuary, he had vaguely hoped that an insurance company, being concerned with the effects of human shortsightedness, might set up a special department to foster his project and pay for proper staff. That hadn’t worked out. It had had to remain effectively a one-man show.
So he was a long, long way from his ultimate goal: nothing less than a world-simulation program.
But he was a patient man, and the shock of such catastrophes as the creation of the Mekong Desert had brought more and more people around to the conclusion he had reached long ago. Whether or not it could be done, it absolutely must be done.
Of course, he was in the same predicament as weather forecasters had been before computers, continually overwhelmed by fresh data that required slow, piecemeal processing. But he had already worked out many trial-and-error techniques for automatically updating his program, and in another twenty years ... He enjoyed good health, and watched his diet carefully.
Besides, he wasn’t after perfect accuracy. Something about as precise as weather forecasting would suit admirably. Just so long as it permitted men who were neither reckless nor cowardly to monitor human progress. (He often used the word in conversation. Many of his acquaintances regarded him as old-fashioned because of it.)
“When someone next complains that the use of insecticides has resulted in an orchard-bred pest eating his magnolias, remind him that but for the improved diet made possible when the orchards were cleared of maggots he might not own a garden to plant magnolias in. Verb. sap.
Yours, etc.,
T.M. Grey,
Ph.D., M.Sc.”
COME CLEAN
One thing you can tell right away about the owner of a Hailey. He has a healthy respect for other people.
A Hailey takes up no more of the road than is necessary.
The noise a Hailey makes is only a gentle hum.
And it leaves the air far cleaner than gas-driven cars.
Even if they are filter-tipped.
So the driver of a Hailey can get close enough to other people to see their smiles and hear their murmurs of approval.
What’s your car doing for interpersonal relations?
YOU DIG
The shovel bit in, carried away another cubic foot or so of snow—and there wasn’t anywhere to put it except on top of more snow.
Still, at least he hadn’t hit a body when he plunged it in.
Pete Goddard ached. Or rather, what he could feel of himself ached. It had started in his soles when he’d been in the snow for half an hour. Then it had crept up to his ankles. Around the time the pain infected his calves he’d
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