Xenite Reading Room

"Simply Connected" by Michael Martinez

Continued from "Simply Connected" page 2

"So how does this thing work?" Ralph said, looking at the screen. The metaphor generator was a collection of windows and icons that didn't mean much to the engineer.

Jim used the mouse to click on the icon that initiated a new sequence. "It's real simple. First, we tell it we want to create a metaphor. I'll call it `Turn On All House Lights'. Then, we'll include all the commands we want it to execute." He clicked on another icon that looked like a bookcase. "This means we have to create those commands; we're doing some `research', because the compiler doesn't know how to turn on the lights yet."

Jim spent a few minutes going over the house wiring diagram with Ralph; when they were finished, the computer had a complete list of all the electronic controllers and how they were `addressed' through the house network. Next, Jim defined the commands for turning on and turning off lights, and he made them generic so they would work with any light source on the network.

Finally, Jim created a series of commands to turn on all the lights in the house, adding each one to the list contained in the metaphor. "And that's all there is to it," he said. He looked up at the clock. "See -- it only took a little over an hour. And, because we've defined all the light nodes and the commands for turning them on and off, the next metaphor for lights won't take nearly as long."

"Pretty sharp," Ralph said. "And I'll bet it could cook dinner, too, couldn't it?"

"Well -- it can't move the food around, but if we load everything in advance, we should be able to create a metaphor to cook a simple meal."

"Let's do that!" Ralph said. "Stephie will love it! I'll go get her recipe book."

"Uh -- " Jim started to say something, but Ralph was gone. "But how do you tell it to stir the soup?" he asked. An idea came to Jim almost as quickly as he voiced the question. "You don't, but the house can tell US when to stir the soup!" He set to work defining a new group of commands.

When Ralph came back, he found Jim smiling proudly. "This is a real whiz-bang of a program, Jim! I can't wait to show Stephie I know how to cook a hamburger!"

"No problem!" Jim said. He took the recipe book and was a little surprised to see an entry for hamburger. Of course, this was a well-seasoned hamburger with a few garnishments. Just typing in the recipe made him hungry. Next they created a metaphor for roast beef -- and then for fried chicken -- mashed potatoes -- spaghetti -- swedish meatballs -- and several others.

"I'll bet you can do all sorts of things with these metaphors," Ralph said, looking at the recipe book thoughtfully. "Hey! Let's make one that greets you when you come in the door. I've seen that in science fiction movies."

"You like science fiction?" Jim said.

"I love it! Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, Van Vogt -- all the old masters! I grew up reading those books."

"Wow."

*

Stephie drove up to the garage and was mildly pleased to see the door swing up without being signalled to. As she pulled into her customary space, she and Deb noticed Jim's car sitting where Ralph's usually resided. "What happened to the paint on Jim's hood?" Deb said, pointing to a section of the car hood just beneath the windshield.

"I can't say," Stephie said. "But look how clean the rest of the car is. They must have fixed the sprinklers."

"Will it rain when we get out?" Deb asked, looking around the garage apprehensively. The riding lawn mower sat in one corner, clean and shiny.

"Oh, dear," Stephie said. But she opened her door carefully and, when no downpour was forthcoming, got out of the car. "Well, let's go see if our two geniuses are hungry."

"Jim is, though he's probably forgotten that by now," Deb said as she picked up the Chinese food.

"He really seems very sweet," Stephie said.

"Oh, he is, Mom. He's the nicest boyfriend I've ever had -- when he remembers we're dating."

"Is he that forgetful?"

"Sometimes he just gets a little carried away."

"How so?"

"Well, he gets so involved with the computers that I have to sort of hit him over the head to remind him I'm right next to him. Not exactly, but you know what I mean."

Stephie laughed gently.

"Yes, I do," she said. "Your father is exactly like that, isn't he?"

They left the garage and walked up to the house. Although the sun was setting, the windows were all dark. "I hope we won't be eating by candle light," Deb said as they mounted the porch steps. "Although it would be kind of romantic."

Stephie opened the door and gasped. "GREETINGS MRS. SALTERS. GREETINGS MS. SALTERS," a deep, basso voice blared out from the entertainment system.

"Hey, Jim! Turn the volume down! Hi, dear!"

"Ralph -- whatever on Earth --"

"YOUR SISTER CALLED AT FOUR-THIRTY pm mrs salters --"

"Too low, Jim! Hi, Bumpkin!" Ralph kissed his wife and daughter on the cheek.

"Daddy!"

"--heard you had some company for the weekend. Is Deb's little boyfriend really staying? I'd love to come over --"

"Ralph, I'm not sure I want to hear telephone messages as soon as I come in the --"

"AAAAaraaaarrrrrroooooohhh!"

"Ambrose!" Deb cried. She set the food down on the floor and ran toward the back of the house.

"How'd he get into that?" Ralph asked, scratching his head.

"--so call me by seven if that's all right --"

"Oh, dear," Stephie said. The lights were all on in the downstairs section and she was certain she could hear the attic fan come on. A sudden, swift draft assured her that was so. "Oh, dear. Ralph, will this happen every time I open the front door, now?"

As the answering machine stopped spewing her sister's message, Stephie heard the television come on; her favorite Saturday show was being replayed from a video tape. "Oh, my."

*

"Deb, you didn't tell me the entire family would come out to meet me!" Jim was furiously looking through his suitcase for something to wear. He had brought only casual clothing.

"I didn't know they would all want to see you so quickly," Deb replied. She was looking around the room carefully. Somewhere a radio was piping in over hidden speakers.

"I don't have anything to wear!"

"Well, look in the closet!" Deb suggested. "Mom and Daddy sometimes have guests who leave things."

"Okay, we'll look in the closet," Jim said. The closet door opened. He stopped and looked at Deb. "Did you tell it to open the door for me?"

"No."

"Oops."

"Jim, what did you do today?"

"Uh, it's a surprise."

"But you didn't have to speak to the computer. I thought we had to do that so it wouldn't get confused?"

"I sort of figured out a way to simplify things. But I didn't know it would work on the closets."

"Jim: my ENTIRE family will be here in a few minutes. Tell me this house won't go on a rampage and kill them all!"

"Oh, honey!" Jim walked over to the closet. "Hey, there's some neat stuff in here."

"Let me see." Deb walked over to join him. The closet was a large walk-in model so they both went inside. "Don't let it close the door or anything," Deb said. The door closed.

"Oops."

"Jim!"

"Calm down, Deb. Computer: Open Closet Door." They vaguely heard Stephie scream somewhere in another room.

"Ralph, I'm in the shower!"

"Computer: Open Closet Door!" Deb turned and spoke directly to the door. The door opened. "How did it open my mother's shower door, Jim?"

"I don't think it did, honey. I just wasn't facing the door."

Deb looked doubtful. Jim shrugged. "Computer: Open Master Bathroom Shower Door." They heard nothing.

"Okay," Deb said, conceding the point reluctantly. "But please don't let anything go wrong."

"Sure. Just as soon as I get dressed." He fumbled through the clothes a while and Deb was gone when he emerged from the closet. When Jim came downstairs, Deb was sitting with a middle-aged man and woman. The woman had light brown hair but bore a strong resemblance to Deb and Stephie.

"Jim, this is my aunt Margaret and Uncle Wat."

"Howdy, Jim!" Wat stood up to shake Jim's hand vigorously. He was about Jim's height, slightly heavier in build, and had only a trace of grey hair.

"Pleased to meet you, Jim," Margaret said. She was a little bit taller than Deb. "Just call me Maggie."

"Uncle Wat, Aunt Maggie," Jim said.

"Hear you work with computers!" Wat said. "You been down to see Ralph's shop?"

"Yes I have."

"What a contraption! Did he ever get the confounded mess to work, or is it still settin' off the burglar alarm ever' time he feeds the dog?"

"Watley, stop that!" Maggie said, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face. Uncle Wat laughed.

"Ralph and I work down at the same place, Jim. I'm an electrician, myself. Union-trained. Didn't get no Master's Degree. But I helped Ralph run the wirin' for all the electric gizmos the first time he tried to set this house up."

"How many times has he wired it?"

"Oh, three or four," Wat said. "Only started about a year ago, right after Deb moved to the city." He drew a pack of gum out of a pocket and stuck a piece in his mouth. "Want some? Tryin' to quit smokin' and Stephie don't like tobacco in her house."

"THERE WILL BE NO SMOKING ON THESE PREMISES!"

"What?" Wat stared at the ceiling. Aunt Maggie succeeded in suppressing a surprised look, but she glanced at Deb with a slightly disapproving expression.

"Sorry, Aunt Maggie," Deb said softly.

"Uh, that shouldn't have happened," Jim said. "Would you excuse me a moment?"

"Been helpin' Ralphie, eh?" Wat said, smiling impishly. "Lemme come with you. I wanna see that new-fangled server he picked up."

"Let me get you something to drink, Aunt Maggie," Deb said. She and Maggie walked back toward the kitchen.

"I tell you child, I'm ready to wash my hands of the entire matter -- aaah! Who turned on that faucet?"

"Sounds like we better get down there quick," Wat said.

*

Continued on "Simply Connected" page 4