New Writings in SF 9 by John Carnell (ed.)

Author:John Carnell (ed.) [Carnell, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Short Story Collection, Science Fiction
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE LONG MEMORY

by

William Spencer

The computer’s memory was a long one. In fact, it could see all in the City, hear all and even tell all to Harben its attendant—but Harben’s mind was another thing altogether…

THE LONG MEMORY

The light was dim in Harben’s tiny recording booth. He sat as usual, hunched forward, intent on the data screens, muttering almost soundlessly to himself.

There was just enough room for him to crouch between the control consoles and monitor panels. His little recording cubicle was far down in the depths of the earth, buried deep below ground level, if it could be said that there was any longer a “ground level”. The gigantic City, throbbing far above his head, towered loftily into the air and burrowed deep underground in its endless search for more space to spread itself.

Hemmed in as he was by equipment, Harben could just manage to turn his head, if he really wanted to, or stretch out his arms to reach the controls. But much more than that he could not do. Apparatus crowded him in on all sides. He was like an astronaut in one of those early primitive spacecraft, jam-packed with essential, bulky gear.

Some people might have found the situation oppressive… even claustrophobic. But Harben loved his work. That was the main thing, he told himself. If he simply had to get out, there was always the escape hatch behind him. All he had to do was press a button and wait ninety seconds while his chair rotated slowly backwards. Then by wriggling and squirming he could squeeze himself with an effort into the long narrow tunnel. Along this he had to crawl for about three hours, like a pot-holer in the darkness, to reach the escalator leading to the upper levels.

Perhaps it was fortunate that Harben was a short, slightly built person. He was not exactly a dwarf, but certainly undersized. That saved a little more vital space.

Of course Headquarters had many times tried to persuade him to accept more spacious working quarters. They’d offered him a roomy, well-lit office which he could pace around when things got too much for him. Or even a little rest-room or lounge. It was decent of them to make the gesture. But they knew, and Harben knew, that it was no more than a gesture. Underneath their generous, lavish offer and Harben’s polite, briefly-worded refusal, there lay the bitter realities which everyone knew made any improvement impossible. What dominated all other considerations, all planning, was the relentless pressure on space of the Records themselves.

Every day the space needed for the Records increased. The spools lay row upon row, snugly nestling against each other in the long automatic racks which permitted highspeed consultation of any section of any spool. Every day, something like a hundred thousand new racks were filled with newly recorded spools. And every few days a huge new storage building or underground cavern had to be brought into commission, to house the next crop of spools.

The space requirement for Records was now far and away the most important factor in City planning.

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