When HARLIE Was One by David Gerrold

what direction this thing is heading in. Then we can know whether or not we want to continue it. I have no problem with the research budget as it stands—but I need to know that we’re getting something for our money. Something we can use.”
    There was something in Dorne’s voice that made Auberson pause. Auberson looked at his hands on the table in front of himself, allowed himself to feel tired, allowed himself also to feel the smallest moment of hope. “All right,” he said wearily. “What do you want me to do?”
    â€œIsn’t it obvious?” snorted Elzer.
    Both Dorne and Auberson ignored him. Dorne said, “Show us a plan. Where are you going with HARLIE? What are you going to do with him? And most of all, what is he going to do for us?”
    â€œI’m not sure I can answer that right now . . .”
    â€œHow much time do you need?”
    Auberson shrugged. “I can’t say.”
    â€œWhy don’t you ask HARLIE for the answer?” Elzer mocked. “If he’s that smart, it should be easy.”
    Auberson looked at Elzer, slightly surprised, oddly impressed. He looked at the little man as if he were seeing him for the very first time. Elzer seemed discomfited by Auberson’s intense examination and dropped his glance to the papers in front of him. When he looked up again, Auberson was still studying him.
    â€œThat’s actually a very good idea.” Auberson grinned. “I believe I will,” he said. “I believe I will.”
    But he didn’t. Not right away.
    What if Elzer was right? What if this whole thing really was just a damned waste of time and money? Not much more than an interesting dead end? What if . . . ?
    I mean, I have to consider the possibility, don’t I?
    And yet . . . on another level, it didn’t make any difference—because it wasn’t about Elzer. And it wasn’t about time and money and corporate resources. It wasn’t about any of those things any more. Maybe last month or last week, Auberson might have been willing to view the circumstances from within the corporate context. But not today. Not now. He couldn’t. Not after . . .
    No, it wasn’t about Elzer any more. It was about HARLIE.
    It had always been about HARLIE.
    Auberson knew he’d have to talk to HARLIE again, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He still didn’t have an answer for HARLIE’s question. What was the purpose of a human being anyway?
    He wondered if there was even an answer to that. Or more accurately, if there was an answer, was it knowable ?
    If there was one, it wasn’t going come easy. He took another sip of coffee instead. Bitter, too bitter.
    A gentle voice intruded on his thoughts. “May I join you?” It was Stimson, the executive secretary.
    â€œSure.” He started to rise, but she waved him back down. “Save it.”
    Auberson waited politely while she unloaded her tray; a sad-looking sandwich and a Coke. The company cafeteria was not known as a haven of haute cuisine.
    â€œIs something wrong?”
    â€œNo. I was just thinking.”
    â€œMm,” she said. “You looked a little . . . sad, I guess.” She bit into her sandwich. Tuna fish. Auberson could smell the sharpness. The thought flickered across his mind: Why do tuna fish sandwiches always smell so strongly?
    Auberson shrugged. When in doubt, shrug .
    â€œThey were kind of rough on you, weren’t they?”
    â€œNo, they weren’t.” And never admit anything. “Elzer maybe. But . . . the rest of them, they were just doing their jobs. Protecting the stockholders’ interests.” He shook his head.
    â€œListen—” she said. “You are a terrible liar. Your face does the most interesting things when you lie.”
    â€œUh—” He felt himself stiffening with sudden self-consciousness. He tried to keep his face impassive. “I don’t know