DAY 4 6:40 A.M.
The next morning the dream was still fresh in my mind, vivid and disturbing. It felt utterly1 real, not like a dream at all.
Julia was already up. I got out of bed and walked around to where I had seen her the night before. I looked down at the rug, the bedside table, the creased2 sheets and pillow. There was nothing unusual, nothing out of order. No dark lines or marks anywhere. I went into the bathroom and looked at her cosmetics3, in a neat line on her side of the sink. Everything I saw was mundane4. However disturbing my dream had been, it was still a dream. But one part of it was true enough: Julia was looking more beautiful than ever. When I found her in the kitchen, pouring coffee, I saw that her face did indeed look more chiseled5, more striking. Julia had always had a chubby6 face. Now it was lean, defined. She looked like a high-fashion model. Her body, too—now that I looked closely—appeared leaner, more muscular. She hadn’t lost weight, she just looked trim, tight, energetic.
I said, “You look great.”
She laughed. “I can’t imagine why. I’m exhausted7.”
“What time did you get in?”
“About eleven. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. But I had a weird8 dream.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes, it was—”
“Mommy! Mommy!” Eric burst into the kitchen. “It’s not fair! Nicole won’t get out of the bathroom. She’s been in there for an hour. It’s not fair!”
“Go use our bathroom.”
“But I need my socks, Mommy. It’s not fair.”
This was a familiar problem. Eric had a couple of pairs of favorite socks that he wore day after day until they were black with grime. For some reason, the other socks in his drawer were not satisfactory. I could never get him to explain why. But putting on socks in the morning was a major problem with him.
“Eric,” I said, “we talked about this, you’re supposed to wear clean socks.”
“But those are my good ones!”
“Eric. You have plenty of good socks.”
“It’s not fair, Dad. She’s been in there an hour, I’m not kidding.”
“Eric, go choose other socks.”
“Dad ...”
I just pointed9 my finger toward his bedroom.
“Shees.” He walked off muttering about how it wasn’t fair.
I turned back to Julia to resume our conversation. She was staring at me coldly. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“He came in talking to me, and you just took over. You took over the whole thing.”
Immediately, I realized she was right. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“I don’t get to see the children very much these days, Jack10. I think I should be able to have my interaction without your taking control.”
“I’m sorry. I handle this kind of thing all day, and I guess—”
“This really is a problem, Jack.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“I know that’s what you said, but I don’t think you are sorry, because I don’t see you doing anything to change your controlling behavior.”
“Julia,” I said. Now I was trying to control my temper. I took a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry it happened.”
“You’re just shutting me out,” she said, “and you are keeping me from my children—”
“Julia, God damn it, you’re never here!”
A frosty silence. Then:
“I certainly am here,” she said. “Don’t you dare say I am not.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute. When are you here? When was the last time you made it for dinner, Julia? Not last night, not the night before, not the night before that. Not all week, Julia. You are not here.”
She glared at me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Jack. I don’t know what kind of game you are playing.”
“I’m not playing any game. I’m asking you a question.”
“I’m a good mother, and I balance a very demanding job, a very demanding job, and the needs of my family. And I get absolutely no help from you.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, my voice rising still higher. I was starting to have a sense of unreality here.
“You undercut me, you sabotage11 me, you turn the children against me,” she said. “I see what you’re doing. Don’t think I don’t. You are not supportive of me at all. After all these years of marriage, I must say it’s a lousy thing to do to your wife.” And she stalked out of the room, fists clenched12. She was so angry, she didn’t see that Nicole was standing13 back from the door, listening to the whole thing. And staring at me, as her mother swept past.
Now we were driving to school. “She’s crazy, Dad.”
“No, she’s not.”
“You know that she is. You’re just pretending.”
“Nicole, she’s your mother,” I said. “Your mother is not crazy. She’s working very hard right now.”
“That’s what you said last week, after the fight.”
“Well, it happens to be true.”
“You guys didn’t used to fight.”
“There’s a lot of stress right now.”
Nicole snorted, crossed her arms, stared forward. “I don’t know why you put up with her.”
“And I don’t know why you were listening to what is none of your business.”
“Dad, why do you pull that crap with me?”
“Nicole ...”
“Sor-ry. But why can’t you have a real conversation, instead of defending her all the time? It’s not normal, what she’s doing. I know you think she’s crazy.”
“I don’t,” I said.
From the backseat, Eric whacked14 her on the back of the head. “You’re the one who’s crazy,” he said.
“Shut up, butt15 breath.”
“Shut up yourself, weasel puke.”
“I don’t want to hear any more from either of you,” I said loudly. “I am not in the mood.” By then we were pulling into the turnaround in front of the school. The kids piled out. Nicole jumped out of the front seat, turned back to get her backpack, shot me a look, and was gone. I didn’t think Julia was crazy, but something had certainly changed, and as I replayed that morning’s conversation in my head, I felt uneasy for other reasons. A lot of her comments sounded like she was building a case against me. Laying it out methodically, step by step. You are shutting me out and keeping me away from my children.
I am here, you just don’t notice.
I’m a good mother, I balance a very demanding job with the needs of my family.
You are not supportive of me at all. You undercut me, you sabotage me.
You are turning the children against me.
I could easily imagine her lawyer saying these things in court. And I knew why. According to a recent article I had read in Redbook magazine, “alienation of affection” was currently the trendy argument in court. The father is turning the children against the mother. Poisoning their little minds by word and deed. While the Mom is blameless as always. Every father knew the legal system was hopelessly biased16 in favor of mothers. The courts gave lip service to equality, and then ruled a child needed its mother. Even if she was absent. Even if she smacked17 them around, or forgot to feed them. As long as she wasn’t shooting up, or breaking their bones, she was a fit mother in the eyes of the court. And even if she was shooting up, a father might not win the case. One of my friends at MediaTronics had an ex-wife on heroin18 who’d been in and out of rehab for years. They’d finally divorced and had joint19 custody20. She was supposedly clean but the kids said she wasn’t. My friend was worried. He didn’t want his ex driving the kids when she was loaded. He didn’t want drug dealers21 around his kids. So he went to court to ask for full custody, and he lost. The judge said the wife was genuinely trying to overcome her addiction22, and that children need their mother. So that was the reality. And now it looked to me as if Julia was starting to lay out that case. It gave me the creeps.
About the time I had worked myself into a fine lather23, my cell phone rang. It was Julia. She was calling to apologize.
“I’m really sorry. I said stupid things today. I didn’t mean it.”
“What?”
“Jack, I know you support me. Of course you do. I couldn’t manage without you. You’re doing a great job with the kids. I’m just not myself these days. It was stupid, Jack. I’m sorry I said those things.”
When I got off the phone I thought, I wish I had recorded that. I had a ten o’clock meeting with my headhunter, Annie Gerard. We met in the sunny courtyard of a coffee shop on Baker24. We always met outside, so Annie could smoke. She had her laptop out and her wireless25 modem26 plugged in. A cigarette dangled27 from her lip, and she squinted28 in the smoke.
“Got anything?” I said, sitting down opposite her.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. Two very good possibilities.”
“Great,” I said, stirring my latte. “Tell me.”
“How about this? Chief research analyst29 for IBM, working on advanced distributed systems architecture.”
“Right up my alley30.”
“I thought so, too. You’re highly qualified31 for this one, Jack. You’d run a research lab of sixty people. Base pay two-fifty plus options going out five years plus royalties32 on anything developed in your lab.”
“Sounds great. Where?”
“Armonk.”
“New York?” I shook my head. “No way, Annie. What else?”
“Head of a team to design multi-agent systems for an insurance company that’s doing data mining. It’s an excellent opportunity, and—”
“Where?”
“Austin.”
I sighed. “Annie. Julia’s got a job she likes, she’s very devoted33 to it, and she won’t leave it now. My kids are in school, and—”
“People move all the time, Jack. They all have kids in school. Kids adapt.”
“But with Julia ...”
“Other people have working wives, too. They still move.”
“I know, but the thing is with Julia ...”
“Have you talked to her about it? Have you broached34 the subject?”
“Well, no, because I—”
“Jack.” Annie stared at me over the laptop screen. “I think you better cut the crap. You’re not in a position to be picky. You’re starting to have a shelf-life problem.”
“Shelf life,” I said.
“That’s right, Jack. You’ve been out of work six months now. That’s a long time in high tech. Companies figure if it takes you that long to find a job, there must be something wrong with you. They don’t know what, they just assume you’ve been rejected too many times, by too many other companies. Pretty soon, they won’t even interview. Not in San Jose, not in Armonk, not in Austin, not in Cambridge. The boat’s sailed. Are you hearing me? Am I getting through here?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts, Jack. You’ve got to talk to your wife. You’ve got to figure out a way to get yourself off the shelf.”
“But I can’t leave the Valley. I have to stay here.”
“Here is not so good.” She flipped35 the screen up again. “Whenever I bring up your name, I keep getting—listen, what’s going on at MediaTronics, anyway? Is Don Gross going to be indicted36?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve been hearing that rumor37 for months now, but it never seems to happen. For your sake, I hope it happens soon.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “I’m perfectly38 positioned in a hot field, multi-agent distributed processing, and—”
“Hot?” she said, squinting39 at me. “Distributed processing’s not hot, Jack. It’s fucking radioactive. Everybody in the Valley figures that the breakthroughs in artificial life are going to come from distributed processing.”
“They are,” I said, nodding.
In the last few years, artificial life had replaced artificial intelligence as a long-term computing40 goal. The idea was to write programs that had the attributes of living creatures—the ability to adapt, cooperate, learn, adjust to change. Many of those qualities were especially important in robotics, and they were starting to be realized with distributed processing. Distributed processing meant that you divided your work among several processors, or among a network of virtual agents that you created in the computer. There were several basic ways this was done. One way was to create a large population of fairly dumb agents that worked together to accomplish a goal—just like a colony of ants worked together to accomplish a goal. My own team had done a lot of that work.
Another method was to make a so-called neural41 network that mimicked42 the network of neurons in the human brain. It turned out that even simple neural nets had surprising power. These networks could learn. They could build on past experience. We’d done some of that, too. A third technique was to create virtual genes43 in the computer, and let them evolve in a virtual world until some goal was attained44.
And there were several other procedures, as well. Taken together, these procedures represented a huge change from the older notions of artificial intelligence, or AI. In the old days, programmers tried to write rules to cover every situation. For example, they tried to teach computers that if someone bought something at a store, they had to pay before leaving. But this commonsense45 knowledge proved extremely difficult to program. The computer would make mistakes. New rules would be added to avoid the mistakes. Then more mistakes, and more rules. Eventually the programs were gigantic, millions of lines of code, and they began to fail out of sheer complexity46. They were too large to debug. You couldn’t figure out where the errors were coming from.
So it began to seem as if rule-based AI was never going to work. Lots of people made dire47 predictions about the end of artificial intelligence. The eighties were a good time for English professors who believed that computers would never match human intelligence. But distributed networks of agents offered an entirely48 new approach. And the programming philosophy was new, too. The old rules-based programming was “top down.” The system as a whole was given rules of behavior.
But the new programming was “bottom up.” The program defined the behavior of individual agents at the lowest structural49 level. But the behavior of the system as a whole was not defined. Instead, the behavior of the system emerged, the result of hundreds of small interactions occurring at a lower level.
Because the system was not programmed, it could produce surprising results. Results never anticipated by the programmers. That was why they could seem “lifelike.” And that was why the field was so hot, because—
“Jack.”
Annie was tapping my hand. I blinked.
“Jack, did you hear anything I just said to you?”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t have your full attention,” she said. She blew cigarette smoke in my face. “Yes, you’re right, you’re in a hot field. But that’s all the more reason to worry about shelf life. It’s not like you’re an electrical engineer specializing in optical-drive mechanisms50. Hot fields move fast. Six months can make or break a company.”
“I know.”
“You’re at risk, Jack.”
“I understand.”
“So. Will you talk to your wife? Please?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she said. “Make sure you do. Because otherwise, I can’t help you.” She flicked51 her burning cigarette into the remains52 of my latte. It sizzled and died. She snapped her laptop shut, got up, and left.
I put a call in to Julia, but didn’t get her. I left voice mail. I knew it was a waste of time even to bring up moving to her. She’d certainly say no—especially if she had a new boyfriend. But Annie was right, I was in trouble. I had to do something. I had to ask. I sat at my desk at home, turning the SSVT box in my hands, trying to think what to do. I had another hour and a half before I picked up the kids. I really wanted to talk to Julia. I decided53 to call Julia again through the company switchboard, to see if they could track her down. “Xymos Technology.”
“Julia Forman, please.”
“Please hold.” Some classical music, then another voice. “Ms. Forman’s office.”
I recognized Carol, her assistant. “Carol, it’s Jack.”
“Oh, hi, Mr. Forman. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Are you looking for Julia?”
“Yes, I am.”
“She’s in Nevada for the day, at the fab plant. Shall I try to connect you there?”
“Yes, please.”
“One moment.”
I was put on hold. For quite a while.
“Mr. Forman, she’s in a meeting for the next hour. I expect her to call back when it breaks up. Do you want her to call you?”
“Yes, please.”
“Do you want me to tell her anything?”
“No,” I said. “Just ask her to call.”
“Okay, Mr. Forman.”
I hung up, stared into space, turning the SSVT box. She’s in Nevada for the day. Julia had said nothing to me about going to Nevada. I replayed the conversation with Carol in my mind. Had Carol sounded uncomfortable? Was she covering? I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t be sure of anything now. I stared out the window and as I watched, the sprinklers kicked on, shooting up cones54 of spray all over the lawn. It was right in the heat of midday, the wrong time to water. It wasn’t supposed to happen. The sprinklers had been fixed55 just the other day. I began to feel depressed56, staring at the water. It seemed like everything was wrong. I had no job, my wife was absent, the kids were a pain, I felt constantly inadequate57 dealing58 with them—and now the fucking sprinklers weren’t working right. They were going to burn out the fucking lawn.
And then the baby began to cry.
I waited for Julia to call, but she never did. I cut up chicken breasts into strips (the trick is to keep them cold, almost frozen) for dinner, because chicken fingers were another meal they never argued about. I got out rice to boil. I looked at the carrots in the fridge and decided that even though they were a little old, I’d still use them tonight. I cut my finger while I was chopping the carrots. It wasn’t a big cut but it bled a lot, and the Band-Aid didn’t stop the bleeding. It kept bleeding through the pad, so I kept putting on new Band-Aids. It was frustrating59.
Dinner was late and the kids were cranky. Eric complained loudly that my chicken fingers were gross, that McDonald’s were way better, and why couldn’t we have those? Nicole tried out various line readings for her play, while Eric mimicked her under his breath. The baby spit up every mouthful of her cereal until I stopped and mixed it with some mashed60 banana. After that, she ate steadily61. I don’t know why I never thought to do that before. Amanda was getting older, and she didn’t want the bland62 stuff anymore.
Eric had left his homework at school; I told him to call his friends for the assignment, but he wouldn’t. Nicole was online for an hour with her friends; I kept popping into her room and telling her to get off the computer until her homework was done, and she’d say, “In just a minute, Dad.” The baby fussed, and it took a long time for me to get her down. I went back into Nicole’s room and said, “Now, damn it!” Nicole began to cry. Eric came in to gloat. I asked him why he wasn’t in bed. He saw the look on my face, and scampered63 away. Sobbing64, Nicole said I should apologize to her. I said she should have done what I told her to do twice before. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door. From his room, Eric yelled, “I can’t sleep with all that racket!”
I yelled back, “One more word and no television for a week!”
“Not fair!”
I went into the bedroom and turned on the TV to watch the rest of the game. After half an hour, I checked on the kids. The baby was sleeping peacefully. Eric was asleep, all his covers thrown off. I pulled them back on him. Nicole was studying. When she saw me, she apologized. I gave her a hug.
I went back into the bedroom, and watched the game for about ten minutes before I fell asleep.
收听单词发音 |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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cosmetics
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| n.化妆品 | |
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mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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chiseled
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| adj.凿刻的，轮廓分明的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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11
sabotage
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| n.怠工，破坏活动，破坏；v.从事破坏活动，妨害，破坏 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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whacked
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| a.精疲力尽的 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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biased
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| a.有偏见的 | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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heroin
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| n.海洛因 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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custody
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| n.监护，照看，羁押，拘留 | |
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dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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addiction
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| n.上瘾入迷，嗜好 | |
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lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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modem
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| n.调制解调器 | |
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dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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analyst
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| n.分析家，化验员；心理分析学家 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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royalties
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| 特许权使用费 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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indicted
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| 控告，起诉( indict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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computing
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| n.计算 | |
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neural
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| adj.神经的，神经系统的 | |
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mimicked
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的过去式和过去分词 )；酷似 | |
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genes
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| n.基因( gene的名词复数 ) | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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commonsense
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| adj.有常识的；明白事理的；注重实际的 | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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structural
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| adj.构造的，组织的，建筑（用）的 | |
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mechanisms
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| n.机械( mechanism的名词复数 )；机械装置；[生物学] 机制；机械作用 | |
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51
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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52
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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53
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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54
cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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56
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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57
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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58
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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59
frustrating
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| adj.产生挫折的，使人沮丧的，令人泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的现在分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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60
mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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63
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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