THE ANCIENT SHIP hung in space as if suspended from invisible cables, its multi-decked hull outlined by shimmering spiderweb lines of gossamer blue. The great square sails were bowed full, and ghostly pennants fluttered at the masthead as if tossed by a freshened breeze.
Hiram Yaeger leaned back in his chair and studied the spectral image hovering over a platform in front of his horseshoe-shaped console. “It’s beautiful, Max,” he said, “but the detail needs sharpening.”
A soft and disembodied feminine voice filled the room from a dozen speakers set in the walls. “You only asked for a blueprint, Hiram.” There was the hint of petulance in the tone.
“That’s right, Max,” Yaeger said, “and you’ve gone far beyond that. But now I’d like to see how close we can get to the finished product.”
“Done,” said the voice.
The ship’s hull solidified like a specter materializing from ectoplasm. Its hull blazed with gold that highlighted the elaborate carvings covering the sides from stem to stern. Yaeger’s eyes lingered on the beak head, crowned by a wooden image of King Edgar, the hoofs of his charger trampling the seven fallen monarchs whose shorn beards bordered his mantle. Then he studied the astronomical panels that represented the glories of the Olympic gods, going back to the high stern, embellished with biblical figures. Every detail was perfect.
“Wow!” Yaeger said. “You didn’t tell me you had programmed the full picture. All it needs now is a couple of dolphins.”
Instantly, simulated seas appeared under the ship, and at her bow a pair of dolphins leaped and splashed. The three-dimensional image spun slowly as the whistles and twitters of the dolphins filled the air.
Yaeger clapped his hands and laughed like a child with delight.
“Max, you’re brilliant!”
“I should be,” the voice replied. “You created me.”
Not only had Yaeger created the vast artificial intelligence system, but he had programmed his own voice into the original program. He didn’t like talking to himself, so he modified it into Max’s female tones. The computer system had developed a feminine personality all on its own.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Yaeger said.
“Thank you. If you’re through I’ll take a break to allow my circuits to cool down. Holograms always exhaust me.”
Yaeger knew Max was prone to exaggerate and that the ship represented only a tiny fraction of the capacity in her circuits. But along with a feminine version of his own voice, he had programmed in some human traits, including the need to be appreciated. He waved his hand. The ship, the roiling seas, the leaping dolphins vanished in a blink of the eye.
Yaeger turned to the sound of applause and saw Austin standing there clapping his hands.
“Hi, Kurt,” he said with a grin. “Have a seat.”
“Quite a show,” Austin said, easing into a chair next to Yaeger. “Right down to the vanishing act. I doubt even David Copperfield could make a full-blown English capital ship disappear.”
Yaeger was truly a magician, but his sleight of hand was performed with computers rather than a top hat and wand. He was an unlikely-looking magus, dressed with a studied scruffiness in Levi’s jeans and denim jacket over a plain white T-shirt. Beat-up cowboy boots adorned his feet. Yet he presided like a master sorcerer over the vast computer network that covered nearly the entire tenth floor of the NUMA building. The National Underwater & Marine Agency oceans center stored and processed the most eno
rmous amount of digital data on oceanography and related sciences ever assembled under one roof.
“That was nothing,” he said with boyish delight. Excitement danced in the gray eyes behind wire-rimmed granny glasses perched on his narrow nose. “Wait until you see the treat Max and I have planned for you.”
“I can hardly wait. That was Sovereign of the Seas?”
“Right. Launched in 1637 at the orders of Charles I. One of the largest seagoing vessels constructed up to that time.”
“Also one of the most top-heavy, as I recall. She had her top deck cut down, which was appropriate, given that Charles lost his head.”
“I’ll add the modifications later. The new program will be available for the nautical archaeology department of any university that wants it. Max has been making a list of hundreds of old vessels. We feed their plans, architect’s renderings, dimensions, history, everything we know about a vessel, into the computers. Max pulls it all together into a holographic reconstruction. She’ll even fill in missing details when information is incomplete. Max, would you mind telling Kurt what you found with the material he gave us?”
The face of a lovely woman appeared on the huge monitor just beyond the platform. Her lips parted in a white smile.
“I’d come off my coffee break any time for Mr. Austin,” the voice said flirtatiously.
The air above the platform shimmered with blue light at the nexus of lasers scattered in the walls. Stud by stud, beam by beam, but with lightning speed, the flashing lasers assembled a long open ship with a single square sail.
“C’mon.” Yaeger got up, and they walked onto the platform. Austin’s vision blurred for a second. When it cleared they were standing on the deck of the vessel looking toward the gracefully upturned bow. Circular wooden shields adorned the sides.
“This is the next evolution in the program. Not only will you be able to see the ships in our inventory, you’ll be able to walk around on the decks. The virtual perspective changes as you move. The simplicity of design made this one fairly easy.”