Self-discovery

Writing about failure is like reliving it. So I'll be brief. The plan was like this: we would plug the 38,000 — cell crystal unit into the TsVM — 12, and everything else would go into the crystal unit's input: the mikes, the smell, moisture and temperature sensors, the tesometric feelers, the photomatrices with a focusing probe, and Monomakh's Crown, to compute the brain's biowaves. The source of external information was me, that is, something moving, noisy, changing shape and its coordinates in space, having temperature and nervous potential. You could hear me, see me, feel me, take my temperature and blood pressure, analyze my breath, even climb into my soul and thoughts — go right ahead! The signals from the sensors would have to feed the crystal unit, stimulating various cells in it; the crystal unit would form and “pack” the signals into logical combinations for the TsVM — 12; the computer would deal with them as though they were usual problems, and produce something meaningful. In order to make it easier for the computer, I programmed all the number — words from A to Z in the computer translation dictionary into its memory bank.

And. nothing. The selsyn motors, whining gently, moved the feeler and lenses when I moved around the room. The control oscilloscopes showed a daisy chain of impulses, which jumped from the crystal unit to the computer. The current flowed. The lights blinked. But during the first month the digital printer didn't stir once to make a single mark on the punched tape.

I punctured the crystal unit with all the sensors. I read poems. I sang. I gestured. I ran and I jumped in front of the lenses. I stripped and dressed. I let the feelers touch me (brr! those cold feelers!). I put on Monomakh's Crown and — O God! — tried to influence it. I was ready for any magic formula.

But the TsVM — 12 could not put out abracadabra; it wasn't made that way. If the problem has a solution, it solves it; if it doesn't, it stops. Judging by the panel lights, something was going on, but every five or six minutes the “stop” signal went on, and I had to press the reset button. And it would begin all over again.

Finally, I started thinking about it. The computer had to be performing arithmetical and logical operations with the impulses from the crystal unit. Otherwise, what else could it be doing? That meant that even after these operations the information was still so raw and contradictory that the computer could not bring the logical ends together. So it would stop! That meant that one cycle in the computer wasn't enough. That meant — and here, as usual in these cases, I was embarrassed for not having thought of it sooner — that meant that I had to arrange for feedback between the computer (from the units where the impulses still were) and the crystal unit! Then the raw material would be inputted into the clever cube, transformed there one more time, and then fed into the computer, and so on, until perfect clarity reigned.

I perked up. Now we were cooking! I can condense the story about how 150 logic cells and dozens of matrices burned out because the TsVM and crystal unit were out of sync (smoke, acrid smells, transistors flaming like bullets in an oven, and me — instead of cutting off the voltage on the panel, I ran for the fire extinguisher on the wall!), and how I got new cells, soldered the transition circuits, and coordinated the cycles of all the units — just the usual difficulties of technical realization. But the important thing was I got the project off the ground.

On February 151 finally heard the long — awaited clatter: the machine printed out a string of numbers on the punched tape. Before deciphering it, I circled the table on which the piece of tape lay, smoked and smiled vaguely. The computer had begun behaving. There it was, the computer's first sentence: “Memory 107 bits.”

It wasn't what I was expecting. That's why I didn't realize right away that the computer “wanted” (I can't write a word like that without quotes) to increase its memory bank.

Actually, it was all very logical. It was receiving complex information that had to be stored somewhere, but the banks were already filled. Increase the memory banks! A commonplace task in building computers.

If it weren't for Alter Abramovich's respect for me, the computer's request would have gone unheeded. But he gave me three cubes of magnetic memory and two of ferroelectric memory. And everything proceeded smoothly: a few days later the TsVM — 12 repeated its demand, and then again and again…. The computer developed serious demands.

What was I feeling then? Satisfaction. Finally something was happening! I tried the results out on my dissertation — to — be. I was a little put off by the fact that the computer was working only for itself.

Then the computer began building itself! Actually, that was logical too; complex information had to be processed by units more complex than the standard ones of the TsVM — 12.