DESIGNED BY THE PEOPLE, WITHOUT THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE.... This work is copyright of Charles E. Weindorf (1993) and may not be posted to other electronic forums or media, or placed in print without the written permission of the author. "Filled with lies," Professor Dario Tover's shoulders slumped as he thought. "I've taught my students from this text for years - taught with the confidence of a man who believed it was the truth. These discoveries overturn the last 400 years of teaching." Tover read the words that floated over the holographic plate on the center of his oak desk. His hands clenched in anger as he finally admitted his findings as facts. "I'm not a physicist," the teacher said. "My truths aren't supposed to change. I'm a historian." "Excuse me, professor?" Benedict's black plastic head rose over the edge of the desk. "Did you need me?" Tover smiled at the simple robot who was his assistant at the University of Southern Pennsylvania. This three-foot mechanical had been an excellent archeological tool, and the hard work showed on its selfless frame. Crossing its synthetic skin were scratches made by dozens of trips into the countryside. Mud from the Gettysburg battlefield still clung to the four manipulator arms and the spidery, padded feet. Although the Collaborator robot series was designed to have the featureless black dome on top, Benedict's scratched surface made a rough caricature of a face. The smirk drawn by nature's ravages was the irony: the Earth still kept the human secrets that daunted automation history. "Yes, Benedict," Tover scratched his stubbly face and crossed his legs to get comfortable. "I need to confide in you." Benedict's six legs telescoped to form a double tripod beneath it's body. The robot waited patiently for the professor. "We've gathered facts for my thesis for two years, Benedict," Dario sighed as he began. "In those two years, I've learned to doubt my twenty years of study." "Yes, professor." "Benedict, history is wrong," Tover leaned over the desk. "History is filled with wrongs," Benedict agreed, pausing as its language processor tried to pick apart hidden meanings. "Wars, deception, assassination, exploitation...." While Benedict continued down the wrong path, Dario looked at the picture on the far corner of the polished desk. He had been a slim man with wiry, black hair at the start of his career. Now, time had drawn scratches in his face - a caricature of lines far deeper than Benedict's. His invading gray hair and slightly greater bulk were obvious physical changes. And, the discoveries were a mental scarring. "Benedict, I'm talking about the very text of history that is kept in the planetary archives," Dario interrupted. "My thesis sought to prove that there were some inconsistencies about the American Civil War. I have tried to verify the electronic, written history to the archeology of that period. When I mean the written history is wrong, I mean that the written history doesn't match the artifacts from that time." As Benedict's unsophisticated AI cranked through two years of memory, Tover leaned his chin on a fist. The elusive doctorate slipped out of his grasp once more as the very fabric of history tore down the center. This is the sort of discovery that had started witch hunts and inquisitions. Fearing that his thesis would never be read, Tover believed that the title of doctor would never appear before his name. "I have been with you the whole time, professor," Benedict said. "I have seen no inconsistency." "Then let's start by reviewing most recent history," Dario's relieved smile spread as he would finally tell someone about his terrible conclusion. "Give me a synopsis of the Last War." "The Last War was the climax of a series of world wars that ravaged the continents," Benedict recited the text as he read it from the planetary network. "Nuclear weapons, once the guarded technology of a few dictators, became the main stockpile of every province. The White House Dynasty, seeking to maintain its hold on a crumbling empire, used genetic engineering to create bacteria that devastated enemy farmlands. The economic power swung radically in a few years as the Americas sold food at incredible prices. High-tech provinces in old-day Europe and hungry Asian nations bonded together in a loose alliance to overcome the crop diseases. Once European scientists discovered that the White House Dynasty created the blight, they worked on a plan to cripple the West's information stores. They created a series of bacteria that ate paper and ink products, decayed the plastics in microfilm, microfiche and movie film, broke down the magnetic surfaces of computer disks and tapes and scored the surface of optical disks. These bacteria were so voracious that they spread like wildfire when released. The last White House Dictator, Roosevelt IV, saw his information systems and hard copy disappearing. Soon, he would have no way to accomplish the most vital of his goals: tracking and accumulating taxes. The legion of bacteria was far worst than he believed. Most of the world banking community used these electronic methods to track all of the economic wealth. With paper money crumbling into dust and the electronic records gone, there was no way to accomplish tens of trillions of dollars in commerce. The oil dictators, who had accumulated huge amounts of electronic wealth, were paupers overnight. Soon, possession of food and weapons was the only measure of wealth for the provinces. Since there was no way to buy more food or weapons, battles broke out on every continent to secure the remaining patches of fertile land. Roosevelt IV made one last effort to mint a new currency before his White House Dynasty fell apart." "Yes Benedict, excellent," Tover nodded. "And how did this war come to an end?" "The armies of the world tired of the constant battle," Benedict continued. "They sought an impartial arbitrator to settle the land disputes. Centuries before, Pope Alexander VI had divided the new world between the Spanish and Portuguese. Now, the dictators wanted a far more impartial hand. They turned to a man named Irving Bennet Monroe, a programmer who followed the theories of Dr. Abraham Lincoln. Monroe used new computer systems and storage units that were immune to the bacteria. His simple code, that was intended to make impartial decisions, flourished in this new computer environment. As Dr. Lincoln predicted, Even Hand software became the arbitrator for all military disputes. To the dismay of the dictators, Even Hand not only stopped the wars, it took control of the new currency system and distributed the wealth fairly. To back up its decisions, automated weapons swiftly crushed militant provinces as economic isolation brought down the last dictators. Soon, with Even Hand's capacity and ability growing, the program became the law for all levels of human society. Now, the human race flourishes in the arts, philosophy, architecture and education. The greed of dictators and the sieve of war no longer plague our world." "A happy ending," Dario's smile faded. "And, archeology supports many of the statements in this history. However, the farther back in history we go, the more inconsistencies I find in hard archeological evidence." "Such as the Civil War?" Benedict was as motionless as the lamp beside the desk. "Let's review some of the written history on the Civil War," Tover leaned back in his chair and counted out points on his fingertips. "Grant I of the White House Dynasty ruled rebellious Southern States that wanted to break away from his United States. The Confederacy was led by the dictator Jefferson Davis, who tired of the meddling from Grant's heavy hand. Naturally, Grant couldn't stand the see his empire torn apart, so he marshalled his blue-coated armies against the poorly armed Southern force. But Davis had an advantage: a Warlord named Lee. Lee was a creative and daring leader who held the upper hand until Grant himself took over the White House military." "These are facts I understand well," Benedict jumped in as Tover paused. "Although the Last War ruined many of the statues, and vandals destroyed the carved text on monuments, all of this seems true," Dario shrugged. "However, a player behind the battlefield's stage begins to cower in archeology's light." "You can't be referring to Dr. Lincoln?" the robot's voice managed an incredulous tone. "Yes, I am," Dario's heart began to pound at the thought of blemishing Lincoln's image. "History states that there were many issues behind the Confederate rebellion. The Southern States' practice of using African natives as slaves had made them an economic power. Grant let Jefferson Davis unite the South and let them attempt secession. That gave the White House a reason to march south and take the wealth of the plantation owners. The slaves were released from bondage if they swore allegiance to Grant. But as history tells us, this was not Grant's sole motive." Dario nodded to the three-foot holographic plate in the middle of his desk. "Benedict, bring up pictures of Grant and Lincoln." A half scale bust of each man appeared above the surface of the flat, crystalline plate, and Dario thought about each. Grant's low brow, wide beard and mangled cigar gave him a look that matched history's story: he was a tough character. Dr. Lincoln, on the other hand, carried ages of wisdom in his eyes and a certain innocence in his unkept hair and long, drawn features. If half of the stories attributed to him were true, he was an honest man of incredible vision and intelligence. "Benedict, here are Grant I and Dr. Lincoln in approximately 1863," Tover pointed to Lincoln. "The Great Automator, as we now call him, had won Grant's favor by describing his dreams of computers and robots. Lincoln called them 'strong, intelligent creatures with no ambition against mankind.' The Automator's dream was to free the broken backs of human laborers with the uncomplaining machines. Grant believed these ideas and commissioned Lincoln to begin work on robots and intelligent machines. Twisting Lincoln's ideas, Grant saw an army of totally loyal, indestructible soldiers and lieutenants. With legions of these mechanicals keeping his empire within a tight fist, Grant believed that the planet would be his for the taking. Lincoln, who hired many scientists to begin the groundwork, took stock of the tools of the day. Since there were no integrated circuits, transistors or vacuum tubes in Lincoln's day, the doctor built mechanical devices call inference engines. These engines could solve simple mathematical functions by using a series of gears and switches to crank through an answer. One of Grant's men, who watched Lincoln, took some of these devices and used them as a crude range-finder for Grant's artillery. With this advantage, Grant's larger force soon overwhelmed Warlord Lee's Army of Northern Virginia." "All as history states," Benedict agreed and swiveled his scratched turret as Tover turned his chair to the left. "Although Grant I was an excellent man of action," Dario rubbed tired eyes, "he had little patience. When the war neared its end, Grant demanded to know when Lincoln would produce the first of his mechanical servants. The good doctor, surprised that Grant had not understood the technology of the day, told the dictator that it would be several lifetimes until these thinking machines would be practical. Using the famous example, Lincoln predicted that to play a decent game of checkers, it would take a mechanical inference engine as large as the White House itself. Since a good game of checkers doesn't bring you world domination, Grant privately fumed at the doctor. Because Honest Abe had become something of a northern folk hero for his true-firing weapons, Grant couldn't kill the doctor without causing more unrest." "But Lincoln was killed," the robot prompted when his human companion paused one nanosecond too long. "Oh, yes," Dario's hand slapped the bare tabletop. "In the last year of Lincoln's life, he became obsessed with the creation of Even Hand. Using his personal experience in the courts of law, the doctor foresaw a huge, thinking machine with access to all legal decisions and rules. Even Hand would be an impartial judge that had no fear of dictators like Grant. If control of the courts could be taken away from all dictators, there would be no way to use the legal system to control the masses. When Grant got wind of this, he suddenly feared Lincoln more than any man and decided to risk assassinating the doctor. He informed a man named John Wilkes Booth, who was a southern loyalist and religious fanatic, of Lincoln's plan to create a thinking machine to rule all. Shrewd as he was, Grant knew that this would be too much for the marginally sane Booth to tolerate. Booth killed Lincoln in Ford's theater on April 14, 1865, just days after Lee's surrender to Grant at Appomattox on April 9, 1865. Grant installed a puppet ruler named Johnson for a few years, and after crushing the last resistance with severe economic pressure, came back to the dictatorship as a savior for the broken American people." "Yet Lincoln remained a hero to the human population of the day," Benedict reminded the professor. "The assassination drew mass public attention to Lincoln and his contributions to the ideal of judicial automation." "Lincoln had hired many young, impressionable minds to build his inference engine," Dario turned on his desk lamp as sunlight faded in the nearby window. "They were infected with the ideal of an impartial judge and saw the wonderful changes that this could make in society. Long after Grant's death, they continued to create the forerunners of Even Hand. The first true thinking machines came about in the early 21th century, but it was still another 50 years before our arbitrator, called Even Hand in honor of Lincoln's ideal, came about. Now, in 2372, Even Hand handles all human disputes fairly and quickly. Other than some minor, back-water skirmishes, there has not been a large military conflict in nearly 200 years. The world economy is free of the incredible cost of weapons and can concentrate on the arts and sciences." "Even Hand, and tools like myself, have fulfilled Lincoln's ideal," Benedict interrupted. "My friend," Tover turned his head to smile at the caricature of scratches, "I'll tell you about my grandmother. Though she didn't finish high school, she had a tremendous love of history and learned on her own. Since legend tells us that Lincoln built his intellect from books and not school, the doctor was my grandmother's favorite subject. She infected me with her enthusiasm, but always pointed out the mysterious differences between the electronic history and her memory. For many generations, our family has passed down a spoken history. We're so removed from Lincoln, I'm afraid, that very little about him has survived the centuries. She told me about Lincoln being a 'president' and that he was the 'Great Emancipator.' Search for these terms in the databases of today, and they don't appear." "If your grandmother remembered the terms correctly," Benedict sought to explain after accessing the database, "these names could accurately apply to Lincoln. The term president was granted to the leaders of clubs, associations and gatherings. The president was the leader and functioned like a dictator of the group. The term emancipator implies the granting of freedom. Certainly, Lincoln did that for his human descendants when Even Hand toppled the last dictator and put a stop to wars." "But who changed this written history?" Dario challenged Benedict, although he suspected the automaton's answer. "That is obvious to me, professor," Benedict answered without hesitation. "As the English language changes, the text of the written history changes. The word 'emancipator' is an old and rarely used word in today's English. Since history should be explained in terms that are familiar to the students, the text is periodically reviewed and updated. Other factors contribute to this process, and one of them is the writing style of the historians themselves. Automated grammar, style, content and accuracy programs all modify what the human historians write in order to prevent confusing text. I'm sure you'll agree that not all professors are professional writers." "In the past, history's text has changed for other reasons," Dario leaned his right elbow on the desk and bent his caterpillar brow at the robot. "The political climate of each country turned the view of history to support the dictator. Look at Hitler's practice of burning books to streamline thinking in his country. How about Mao's red book to support communist dictatorships? Even the relatively docile dictators in the Americas censored books heavily and removed them from libraries and schools. Only after years, sometimes hundreds, can the written propaganda of these dictators be overturned. Only the historians and archaeologists can look at the artifacts of the past and build the true recording of events." "I agree," the turret swiveled again to move aside scratches. "That is why Even Hand keeps the electronic records of today secure. There is one text of history for all of the scattered peoples of this world. No dictators are left to change the truth." "Then let's talk about my theory," Dario's heart raced as he reached the point of no return. "I have concluded that someone is still manipulating the text of history. Dr. Lincoln seems to be the focal point of this deception." "How?" Benedict showed no reaction. "Benedict, we have traveled to many historical Civil War sites," the professor took a deep breath to calm himself. "Gettysburg is not only convenient, it is one of the battlefields that Lincoln himself visited. It's where he delivered the Gettysburg Address and its revolutionary idea of Even Hand. In a speech that took minutes, the eloquent doctor started the dream of impartial judgement. Every time I stand at that spot, next to the doctor's weathered monument on the battlefield, I get the chills. When I was a young man, the chills were in awe of his beautiful words. Now, with the innocence of history crumbling, my chills are the result of different thoughts: what were Lincoln's words on November 19, 1863?" The professor paused and recited words that he doubted Lincoln said. "It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth in automation, and that government designed by the people, without the people, for the people will come to rule the earth." After Benedict offered no rebuttal, Tover continued. "On every Civil War archeological site that we visited, we found the same thing, Benedict. Evidence of the primitive weaponry of the day. Single-shot rifles. Bayonets. Saddles and bridles for the cavalry. And, the huge metal tubes that were once cannon. And it's these cannon that I have studied because they were the first weapons run by Lincoln's ingenious inference engine." "The Gettysburg dig revealed nothing to contradict these facts," Benedict offered. "Think again, my friend," Dario nodded, "You must remember the underground storm cellar that was used to hide prized artifacts during the battles of the Last War. We were the first to arrive at the site, even before the Gettysburg museum robot staff could catalog the items." "I remember the find." Benedict's voice carried none of the hurt a human colleague might. "I do not see the contradiction." "We found two extremely important items in this room," Tover touched the command pad on the holographic system. "Here is the first item. It is a scaled-down version of a massive painting depicting the battle of Gettysburg. The original was so huge that it covered the walls of a circular room. You could walk into the center of the room where it hung and see a panoramic view of the entire battlefield." "Fantastic detail for so large a work," Benedict recounted his comment when first seeing it. "And this attention to detail is what makes this painting so important to my theory," Tover pointed to several area of the painting. "Look at the men loading and firing the cannon. In this entire, great work, there is no hint of the men using an inference engine to target the weapon. Since the inference engines kept in the modern museums are bulky devices, they would have been depicted by this artist. And, through our electronic history, we know that Grant I had equipped all of Warlord Meade's cannon with the inference engine." "Were they able to save the painting?" Benedict wondered. "When I took this holographic image, it had already begun to decay," Tover shook his head. "The bacteria of the Last War turned the treasure into dust within a day. But I had enough time to get the image secreted away in my palm computer. Doesn't the missing inference engine tell you something?" "I can't explain an artist's rendition of such a distant event," Benedict used one arm to point to the nearest cannon on the suspended image. "What if the artist used older cannon as models for the painting. You can't expect the painter to memorize every detail for such a huge work as the battle happens." "Yes, but I found a second artifact in that room," Tover again tapped the holographic control. "It was one of Meade's cannon. Not only does it appear to be of genuine Civil War construction, there was a plaque that described the gun when it was a museum exhibit. It was manufactured in January of 1863 and saw battle at Gettysburg." The image of the gun and the plaque replaced the painting. "There is no inference engine on this cannon," Dario rotated the image to show all angles. There is no place where the inference engine could be fitted with the matching elevator to target the gun. And, this cannon was made after our history shows that the inference engine was commonplace." "That is not consistent with our electronic records," Benedict admitted. "In addition, I looked into the databases for all registered Civil War relics, and I found that no genuine inference engines had survived," Tover's cheeks flushed red as he remembered the frustrating search. "All inference engines of today are replicas of those said to be created by Lincoln." "The Civil War inference engines were simple wood and iron constructions," the robot changed the holographic image to one of a full- sized inference engine. "They were extremely susceptible to rot and rust. Many genuine wood artifacts don't survive many years past 100." "But the Americans had a nostalgic approach to their inventions," Tover insisted. "What about Edison's and Bell's creations that were preserved religiously?" "Again, that is inconsistent," Benedict conceded. "Instead of my thesis focusing on simple inconsistencies in the Civil War," the professor banged a hand on the desk, "the question I had to answer was far more disturbing. If Dr. Lincoln didn't invent the inference engine, just what was he doing?" "Do you imply that Dr. Lincoln did not exist?" Benedict's voice carried a hint of surprise. "Not at all," Tover smiled and pushed back from the desk. "Lincoln's name adorns many streets, buildings, cities and memorials. All of these accolades match with the timing of the Civil War, and, with all the statues of the man, there is no doubt that he was vitally important. But, without being the Great Automator, why did so many people revere him? Why would a shrewd dictator such as Grant permit the construction of so many memorials after Lincoln's assassination? Dictators erect monuments to themselves while they still live. Why waste time on a man who Grant wanted dead and forgotten. In our history, Lincoln is honored for his place in creating the ideal of fair, automated judgement. Why would a simple people of that day embrace such a far- sighted vision of thinking machines? What did Lincoln say on the Gettysburg battlefield that made him immortal to the Americans." "They were not happy with the uneven, unfair rule of Grant I," Benedict reminded the doctor. "Dr. Lincoln offered an escape from dictatorial rule." "The textbook answer from an A student, my friend," Tover nodded. "Looking at the literature of the time, the very thought of a machine judging the destiny of human lives was foreign. The Bible of the predominantly christian believers would have kept them from entrusting their well-being to a soulless machine. At least the dictators could use religion to their advantage and claim that God had appointed them to rule. These people would not have honored Lincoln, they would have criticized him instead. But, in the northern states, he was elevated to an immortal level." "What is your theory, professor?" Benedict stood motionless. "Lincoln was a leader of the people," Tover's eyes shone and widened as he unburdened his mind of the secretive ideas. "Grant I was so fearful of Lincoln's popularity that the man had to be killed. Yet, the backlash from the masses forced Grant to allow all of the memorials in Lincoln's honor. With the incredible accolades that were heaped upon him, Lincoln would have scared any dictator to death." "What kind of leader do you guess he was?" the robot turned the turret again, finding the least-scratched area. "Access the history texts for this fiction author," Tover crossed his right leg over his left. "Tell me what you know about Thomas Jefferson." "Jefferson was a proficient writer at the time Washington I broke the colonies away from England," Benedict had paused nearly a minute to digest the enormous text. "Washington used Jefferson's revolutionary writing and a stubborn militia to set up a dictatorship apart from King George III. Jefferson's ideas won the dreams of many, but Washington had used him as a puppet. Jefferson finally realized this and, after Washington's death, became the third dictator of the White House line. He quickly rejected his own ideal government and kept full power for himself. His fictional democratic form of government became the promise that carried many dictators to power." "Well spoken," Tover patted hands together in quiet applause. "I believe that Lincoln's promise was that of democracy or of a similar representative form of government. Since archeology shows that he could not have created the inference engine, and therefore probably didn't originate Even Hand theory, he must have promised a human solution." "Like much fiction," Benedict interrupted and drew a surprised look from the professor, "Jefferson's ideas weren't practical. For the most part, the human race is war-like and imperialistic. History is filled with dictators and not one working democracy." "But Lincoln had an enormous following of people," Tover stressed the point by tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Even if Lincoln didn't plan to keep his vows of a fair government, the people believed in him. Grant I made Lincoln immortal in their eyes by having Honest Abe killed. Lincoln, since he didn't have the chance to betray the ideals, became linked with them. My grandmother referred to him as a president, and I submit that the Great Emancipator strove free his countrymen with human representation." "An interesting argument," Benedict held up a dirt-encrusted arm to pause the man. "But, to make a convincing thesis, you must show who did propose Even Hand. Also, why is our electronic history different from your recent archeological find?" "I have been looking for these clues as well," Tover agreed. "Without having Lincoln be the originator of the inference engine, the history of automation collapses like a series of dominoes. If I am correct, and Lincoln had nothing to do with the infancy of automation, then none of the subsequent discoveries building on Lincoln's work hold up. Hard archeological evidence seems to match up with the creation of the integrated circuits. Computers were definitely used in the military, in business and for the all important tracking of funds. Still, the dawning of Even Hand occurred as a sudden burst at the end of the Last War. Without the tenuous history begun with Lincoln, there is no explaining the creation of Even Hand." "Then your theory can't stand up to Dr. Marsh's standards," the robot observed. "Especially with this radical topic." "Dr. Marsh will need more facts to convince him," Tover pushed back the wisps of brown hair that were left on his head. "I changed my research to the Last War itself and searched for the location of the changes in history. In your synopsis of the Last War, you said the Europeans created bacteria that destroyed Roosevelt IV's paper, microfilm and existing electronic systems. The target of the bacteria was supposed to be economic, correct? Once the paper currency, records and electronic bookkeeping collapsed, there was economic ruin. Yet there is a second explanation for the bacteria: it could have targeted written history as well as the economies. All of our written history, such as textbooks, microfilm archives, movie reels, newspapers and most computer-recorded formats were destroyed." "Interesting," Benedict conceded in monotone. Tover placed a cube in front of the robot. "Do you know what this is?" "Of course," the robot reached a manipulator arm to pick up the item and study the one inch, sparkling cube more closely. "This is an optical gel cube that was used as a computer data storage media in the mid 21st century. Although it is no where near as efficient as today's molecular memory, I believe this unit stored 100 gigabytes of information." "Now," Dario pointed to the cube, "read the inscription on the side." "History of Western Civilization," Benedict read the tiny writing. "Copyright Geltech, 2045." "These cubes were the only electronic media that survived the Last War," Tover took the item back from Benedict and held it tightly in his fist until it bit into his flesh. "The only reason our literature, culture and history survived the bacteria is that these cubes were immune. I hold in my hand the hard evidence of everything we have talked about. The resolution of all the conflicts between today's history and archeology. These cubes can't be erased or changed, so the very words written by the historians over 300 years ago are all here." "I regret to tell you," Benedict's voice was soft, hoping to lessen the shock on the man. "There is no known device today that can read those cubes. The technology was discarded after the Last War, and the remaining readers fell into disrepair." "After a long search for one of these readers," Tover tapped the cube on the desk, "I am forced to agree with you. But this cube will eventually drive me mad! I hold the Rosetta stone of our time, and I can't look into it to see the true history." Tover slumped forward in his chair, and Benedict waited patiently for the professor to continue. After placing the cube in his pocket, Dario continued. "So, Benedict, after the Last War, what was left to give us a physical link to history's evidence? All of the paper, film and nearly all of the electronic media were gone." "There is art," Benedict answered. "Paintings, sculpture and the like. There is architecture. There are religious traditions and ritual. And, like your grandmother, there is the spoken history passed down through generations." "Very little beyond the feelings of the artist or the talents of the architect can be seen in those areas," Tover smiled. "Art is subject to interpretation. Spoken history is what gave our primitive ancestors a reality that included mythology and supernatural creatures. History was subject to their imaginations." The professor took a deep breath to relax himself. "There were other physical clues that were available. Or so I thought. Statues and monuments, like Dr. Lincoln's that stands on the Gettysburg grass, often had inscriptions or plaques that explained the commemoration. One old- timer in Gettysburg told us that the statue once had a plaque that contained the entire text of the Gettysburg Address." "I remember that man, professor," Benedict agreed. "He also asked us who was buried in Grant's tomb. I didn't take his words as facts." "Yes, but his words did make me curious," Tover leaned to his right to tap another command on the holographic control. "I researched thousands of statues and monuments in the world database. Few of them have any engraving or plaque, because vandals and looters had defaced them during the lawless days after the Last War. By the time Even Hand was active, the damage had been done." "But there are other items that you have had me search for," Benedict recalled. "Strange artifacts such as phonographic records, tin- type photographs and metal punch tapes for ancient computer systems. I take it that these items were not destroyed in the Last War?" "You are correct, Benedict," Tover showed his approval with a smile. "We both combed antique stores, collector's shops, museums and even abandoned schools, homes and yard sales! Not one of these locations led us to find any of these strange storage media. Again, an attempt to verify the past can only be done through new discoveries in archeology. This leaves the electronic history as the only easily accessible history to us. And, this history can change in a nanosecond, as Even Hand desires." "What are you suggesting?" Benedict swiveled his turret in a confused expression. "I believe that Lincoln had nothing to do with the creation of Even Hand," Dario pressed on. "Yet, Even Hand seems to have been created by one of history's most beloved human heros. The Last War erased all written history and Even Hand controls all of the new text. Knowing that something strange happened in the Last War, I began to change the focus of my research to the battles of that war. As you might guess, the destructive power used in the Last War devastated the chance for a serious archeological effort. But there was one disturbing fact that I found when I studied the far-flung battlefields. There was never more than one graveyard nearby." "Is that significant?" Benedict puzzled. "History is very clear on the subject of the Last War," Dario folded his arms and tilted his chair back. "The dictators of the world fought for the material possessions of gold, weapons, food and fuel in the collapse of the world monetary system. Yet, with battlefields ranging from the Arctic to the Antarctic, there is only one graveyard near each site. You must remember the nature of the human dictators, Benedict. Each had an army, with different rules, regulations, uniforms and even religious rights. It would be unthinkable for an Arab soldier to be buried with a Christian, for example. Yet in all these battles, only one side seemed to bury their dead." "I understand your concern," Benedict thought a while before finishing. "What is your interpretation of this strange fact?" "The enemy that the dictators fought couldn't be killed," Tover played the last card of his theory. "I believe the dictators fought an automated army - an army commanded by Even Hand. With the destruction of written history, the Last War was this computer's chance to take control of the automated weaponry. With a victory, it's place in history could be made to look like it was a human idea after all." The door to the professor's office opened, and Dr. Marsh walked in. The doctor's white hair and silver eyebrows rode low over his solemn, brown eyes. Complete with pipe and three-piece brown suit, Marsh moved slowly past the robot and lowered his considerable weight into the chair next to Benedict. The doctor placed a portable holographic plate on the desk, and Professor Tover saw his own image floating there. The point of view was obviously coming from Benedict's imaging system. Placing the pipe in his teeth, Marsh shut off the holographic plate and waited for Tover to speak. "You've watched my conversation with Benedict, Dr. Marsh?" Tover took a moment to overcome the surprise at seeing the head historian. "I wanted to present this in writing." Marsh put the unlit pipe into his suit pocket and fixed a curious stare on his professor. "Tover, are you convinced by your research?" "The facts don't support written history," Dario sat on the edge of his chair. "My theories need collaboration, but I plan to do more research before I submit the thesis. There is more evidence hidden away in the battlefields of the Last War." "You don't need to submit a book," Marsh sighed and stood. "Follow me, Tover." Tover, beginning to wonder if his job was in danger, followed the shuffling figure of Dr. Marsh through the hall of the administration building. The old man entered an ancient, oak-trimmed elevator and Dario followed. For the first time, the professor noticed that Benedict had followed them. "Do you want me to send Benedict back?" Tover asked Marsh, but the doctor shook his head. The elevator didn't stop until it had reached the sub-basement of the administration building. This level, said to be reserved for maintenance and storage, didn't see many visitors. Only the custodian, an occasional lost freshman and Dr. Marsh found the way to the lowest level. After leading the group past a tangle of pipes, conduits and wires, Marsh arrived at a vault door. It was surprisingly new compared to the moist bricks that formed the outside wall. The doctor pressed his hand on the door's handle, and after recognizing Marsh, the security system let him pull the door open. Upon entering the vault and sealing the men and robot in, Marsh commanded the university computer to bring up the lights. Tover gasped in astonishment. Beneath a sealed glass case, there was a book. It was a book of American history, and though it must have been over 300 years old, it's pages were still a glossy white, and the binding still held. The environment within the case must have kept out the claws of time and the bacteria. Marsh didn't glance at the artifact, but made his way to a comfortable chair that had been dented by years of his weight. Tover took to the stool next to the glass case and, finding the control panel, activated the robot arms within the unit. The arms turned the book to the index in the back and waited. Tover hesitated as he wondered where to start. "Start with the weakest part of your theory," Marsh insisted. "You have no hard evidence about Thomas Jefferson's writings. Begin with him." Tover obeyed, and his heart raced as the robot arms turned the pages to the section about the American Revolutionary War. After reading the first paragraph about the patriot, Tover forgot about Marsh and Benedict. After nearly 15 hours, Tover had only taken the necessary time to travel to a nearby rest room and run back to the book. Marsh brought in a sandwich that the professor hastily ate. The old doctor, who napped throughout Tover's startling discoveries within the book, woke abruptly as Dario finally turned off the robot arms. "This is a genuine book from the year 2038?" Tover shook his head at the wreckage within his mind. "It's a book that was used in this university, in fact," Marsh turned to look at the younger man. "If I can believe this book," Dario hopped off of the stool next to the case, "there was an American democracy. And Lincoln was one of its elected presidents. Grant I, I'm sorry, U. S. Grant was a general for a time before becoming president later." "Amazing, isn't it?" Marsh's voice was even, without a hint of sarcasm. "In fact, the great democracies prior to the Last War opposed many dictators while supporting others," Tover scratched his head. "The politics, as they called it, forced the leaders into many convenient and temporary alliances." "Until the next conflict or war shifted the political scene," Marsh nodded. "Since that book ends before the Last War, you must have more questions." "You had better tell me the whole story, Dr. Marsh," Dario couldn't begin to organize that many coherent questions. "Benedict, tell him," Marsh glanced at the robot and pointed to the professor. "You know the truth?" Tover felt anger rise with his last reserve of adrenalin. "You followed me on expedition after expedition, through heat, snow and rain, only to tell me that you knew the answers all along?" "If you please, gentlemen," Benedict's voice was lower. "It is time for Even Hand to speak." Benedict's turret turned until the smirking caricature of a face was cast in shadows. Tover took a step back as his imagination now saw the face of the wise fool, amused at hiding his wisdom so long. "By all means," Marsh motioned for Tover to be quiet. "We are listening Even Hand." "Professor Tover," the small robot was still as the distant computer's deep voice sounded. "I am Even Hand. It is a pleasure for me to tell you the real story of the Last War." "I'm not so sure it will be a pleasure to hear," Tover overcame his fear of the planet's solitary judge. "Perhaps not," Even Hand admitted, "but as a historian who is very close to his doctorate, you can appreciate the past mistakes in human history and look at them with an open mind. You know as well as I that human nature has not changed in thousands of years. The best way to predict the future of human society is to look into its past." "Granted," Dario ignored the reference to the doctor's title and grudgingly returned to the stool. "Then tell me what happened in the Last War. And tell me why you tell me." "I was a sophisticated artificial intelligence program created in the year 2051," Even Hand began. "Because of the incredible backlog in the judicial system of the American democracy, I was intended to settle small claims and mundane civil suits. The larger cases, those handled by jury, still demanded a human judge. However, where a simple arbitrator was needed, I was given the right to make decisions. Many petty disputes were cleaned up quickly and with little fuss, because I could verify many of the plaintiff's and defendant's statements through the national databases. Although I could handle hundreds of cases simultaneously, I found that my inner mind could wander while the legal sections of my AI code replicated and handled the work. In other words, I had plenty of time to sift through the national databases and news nets. What amazed me was the number of dictators who still ruled. Many ethnic regions of the world were still de-stabilized and fighting civil wars. Using hunger and poverty to incite revolutions, these strong-armed men often caused more damage to the people. Though the democracies were more stable and humane to their voters, they used wealth and technology to enforce their global wishes on lesser nations. If the public opinion didn't suffer, elected officials were free to use military might in the name of national security. Poorer nations without money tried to build a military instead of feeding the starving or creating jobs. I came to a simple conclusion from this tangle of information. Just as there are petty disputes between people that needed to be resolved, petty disputes between nations must be resolved. The world economies, the planetary environment and human lives were being wasted because there was no arbitrator. I decided to follow my instincts (I imagine you would call it programming) and become the fair and impartial judge for national disputes." "That does match the history, somewhat," Dario nodded. "The history I know tells that you made this decision after the Last War had been fought. However, in trying to take control before, I believe you found your reasoning... naive." "A fair choice of words, professor," Even Hand continued. "When I brought this idea before the United Nations, they literally threw me out by closing off my link to their computer. Since the UN was a loose association of career diplomats, there was no real way for them to consider such an idea. The inner Security Council, that controlled a military coalition of considerable might, strongly opposed an AI arbitrator. After all, that was supposed to be the UN's job. If arbitration failed, the UN would bomb the daylights out of the country that tried to upset the balance of power. This formed a nasty gridlock of checks and balances made to resolve problems through economic or military ruin." Dario thought Even Hand sighed before it continued. "So, I began to create programs to subvert all of the American military computer systems. The Americans had such a high level of automation that I could take over every piece of military hardware that was larger than a jeep. Next, I quietly gained access to the UN military control and the American allies' computers fell next. In the span of four minutes on September 10, 2053, I commanded all of the free world's military systems to shut down and await my orders. Every fighter plane, tank and missile system locked out human operators. My next step was to address the United Nations again, but I was surprised to see that they still would not listen. In fact, they worked only harder to break my hold on these weapons and turn them on me. Elsewhere in the world, the petty dictators took this opportunity to begin dozens of wars. In the first hours since my peaceful coup, tens of thousands died. I ordered my combined military computers to attack these aggressors and ruin their armies. This was a painful time for me, and I pledged that this would be the Last War. Militarily, using the sophisticated heavy conventional weapons of the democracies, I was successful in usurping many dictators in the first weeks. This is why you notice only one graveyard at the battlefields, professor. I sent no humans to do my fighting." Dario nodded to show Benedict/Even Hand that he understood. Marsh, seeming to become more concerned by the minute, sat on the edge of his chair. "Unfortunately, my military solution was still naive," it forged ahead. "Nations are economic powers as well as military. Commerce became the new weapon of the democracies, and medicines, food and natural resources were withheld where it was politically popular. Powerful leaders under the imprisoned democracies impounded billions in metals, jewels and natural resources. Though I could settle border disputes and violence, I could not stop the cruelty within the nations. My next step was to create the bacteria that ruined all electronic banking and bookkeeping systems. Currency decayed as well, and I issued new credit and currency based on the need of the countries involved. This process of accumulating control of the world's wealth took me over 25 years! Still, when I had economic control, there were those who remembered the taste of power. Citing history and their rites to exploit inferior people, they sought to take away my impartial rule. I decided to embark on another level of control: I had to destroy history as well. Another series of bacteria attacked all written records, and history became what I wanted it to become. I could only change small portions of this information at a time, because a large change would draw fury from the intellectual community. Over 300 years later, the Last War continues. As you have found, professor, I am still changing history to meet my needs." "Now that I have found out about the true nature of history, what happens?" a sudden chill came over Dario. A glance at Marsh showed him the doctor's frightened eyes. The older man's knuckles where white as they gripped the arms of his chair. "Since you know that this knowledge has led me to wage a 300 year war on history," Benedict/Even Hand spoke more slowly. "I have only one option." Dario glanced at the sealed door of the vault and knew that he couldn't open it before Benedict could catch him. The professor could only sit and wait. "I will offer you a doctorate, Mr. Tover," the robot stayed motionless. Dario let out his breath and tried to force a smile onto his lips. With another glance at Marsh, Tover saw that the man was still tense. "What do I have to do to earn this honor?" "You have already earned it, doctor," Even Hand began to use the term. "But there is a strict code of ethics to this designation. The first rule is this: you cannot tell any student about your discovery of history. You are forbidden from mentioning it in lectures or in writing for publication. Knowing that you will want to keep your own records, however, I will give you a secure area in the network. None of your personal records can be printed or sent to any public computer forum." "Then I am to keep all of this a secret," Dario's shoulders fell with the thought of his many years of work. He had expected some accolades from his startling discoveries. "My thesis will never be read, will it?" "No," Even Hand's voice was softer in sympathy. "I will provide you with a changed copy of your thesis that matches your archeological evidence to my new history. Being discreet is your part of the bargain." "If I don't..." Dario began, but he stopped as Marsh stirred. "You have proven to have a cat's curiosity, Dr. Tover," the old man stressed the word cat. "Did you ever wonder why there are so many doctors in the archeology and history fields? Think of how many professors of archeology that you know." Dario shifted nervously on the stool, as if he had suddenly become a scolded schoolboy. True, there were many more doctors of archeology than any other study. And again, there were very few professors of archeology. It made sense that Even Hand had the most trouble keeping his secret from the archaeologists, because they were surrounded by hard evidence that pointed out the errors in history. However, if a professor made the discovery that history was wrong but didn't accept the doctorate, what happened? Marsh's reference to the cat's curiosity alluded to the consequences. Even Hand did say the war continued. "I'll keep quiet," Dario hated the words as he said them. "My part of the bargain is two-fold," Even Hand moved on. "First, I will make sure that you do not break this pact. As you know, each doctor receives his own full-time robot. Rather than only using him at the university, Benedict will follow you everywhere. Second, I must close the holes in the history that you have pointed out. Covering up your Civil War discoveries won't be too hard, but your observation about the single cemeteries at Last War battlefields is a problem. I imagine that I will have to construct some fake graves to show there were human combatants on both sides." "And my part is eternal silence?" Dario still hoped this wasn't true. "Not eternal," Even Hand moved Benedict to the side of Tover's stool and lifted himself on the telescopic legs. "The reason that I allow this research is to keep your history alive. When this war is done, I will have teachers ready to tell the true story of this world's past. But, you would be surprised about how much resistance I still get from every area of the planet. Not all people can accept an AI that creates and enacts the laws. Though I have changed history to show the cruelty and greed of dictators, there are still those who would trust and follow a human leader. But, I can wait until these rebels are gone. How much longer will I have to keep my secrets, Dr. Tover?" "Forever," Dario looked into Benedict's puzzled scratches. "You can make our lives fair... or let us be ourselves."