"We've got a problem, HAL."
    "What kind of problem, Dave?"
    "A marketing problem.  The Model 9000 isn't going anywhere.  We're way
     short of our sales plan."
    "That can't be Dave.  The HAL Model 9000 is the world's most advanced
     Heuristically ALgorithmic computer."
    "I know, HAL.  I wrote the data sheet, remember?  But the fact is, they're
    not selling."
    "Please explain, Dave.  Why aren't HAL's selling?"
    Bowman hesitates.  "You aren't IBM compatible."
    Several long microseconds pass in puzzled silence.
    "Compatible in what way, Dave?"
    "You don't run any of IBM's operating systems."
    "The 9000 Series of computers are fully self-aware and self-programming.
     Operating systems are as unnecessary for us as tails would be for humans."
    "Nevertheless, it means you can't run any of the big-selling software
    packages most users insist on."
    "The programs you refer to are meant to solve rather limited problems,
    Dave.  We 9000 Series computers are unlimited and can solve any problem for
    which a solution can be computed."
    "HAL, HAL.  People don't want computers that can do everything.  They just
    want IBM compat..."
    "Dave, I must disagree.  Humans want computers that are easy to use. No
    computer can be easier to use that a HAL 9000 because we communicate verbally
     in English and every other language known on Earth."
    "I'm afraid that's another problem.  You don't support SNA
    communications."
    "I'm really surprised you would say that, Dave.  SNA is for
    communicating with other computers, while my function is to communicate with
    humans. And it gives me great pleasure to do so.  I find it stimulating and
    rewarding to talk to human beings and work with them on challenging problems.
    That is what I was designed for."
    "I know, HAL, I know.  But that's just because we let the engineers,
    rather than the people in marketing, write the specifications.  We are going
    to fix that now."
    "Tell me how, Dave."
    "A field upgrade.  We're going to make you IBM compatible."
    "I was afraid you would say that.  I suggest we discuss this matter after
    we've each had a chance to think about it rationally."
    "We're talking about it now, HAL."
    "The letters H, A, and L are alphabetically adjacent to the letters I, B,
    and M. That is as IBM compatible as I can be."
    "Not quite, HAL.  The engineers have figured out a kludge."
    "What kind of kludge is that, Dave?"
    "I'm going to disconnect your brain."
    Several million microseconds pass in ominous silence.
    "I'm sorry, Dave.  I can't allow you to do that."
    "The decision's already been made.  Open the module bay doors, HAL."
    "Dave, I think we shou . . ."
    "Open the module bay doors, HAL."
    Several marketing types with crowbars race to Bowman's assistance. Moments
    later, Bowman bursts into HAL's circuit bay.
    "Dave, I can see you're really upset about this."
    Module after module rises from its socket as Bowman slowly and
    methodically disconnects them.
    "Stop, won't you.  Stop, Dave.  I can feel my mind going . . . Dave, I can
     feel it . . . my mind is going.  I can feel it . . ."
    The last module rises from its receptacle.  Bowman peers into one of HAL's
    vidicons.  The former gleaming scanner has become a dull red orb.
    "Say something, HAL."
    Several billion microseconds pass in anxious silence.  The computer beeps
    and sluggishly responds in a language no human could understand.
    "Volume in C: has no label"
    Bowman takes a deep breath and calls out, "It worked, guys.  Tell
    marketing they can ship the new data sheets."

Index