Benton gaped. "You think the recent situation will lead to war? Or do you need a few tubes replaced?"
"Heh, heh," said the voice. "In case you haven't guessed, I can exist entirely without this machine you have built—and still be a better integrated intelligence than any you can conceive. I'm really a pure thought pattern, you know; I'm not composed of matter, nor do I need matter in any form for my continued existence. A thought pattern is something like a stress in space, and quite stable—even if you find it difficult to picture. But I do want to retain this mechanical body of mine; it's a sort of library, without which I possess but a thousandth of the memories stored in its cells. Naturally I don't want to lose them. But on the other hand I can't be killed by any agency you or your descendants are likely to think up for the next twenty generations. So drop that train of thought; it's a waste of effort."
Benton said nothing. His feeling of futility deepened to something close to despair, for he suspected that Urei wasn't lying. Furthermore, Benton was sure that he was the only human who knew that Urei was sentient. And if the machine should decide that such knowledge was menacing to his welfare, Benton was certain that he wouldn't retain it very long. Even if he got out of here with his memory intact and wrote everything down—assuming that anyone would take it seriously—Urei could pluck that information from his mind and destroy his notes.
"No comment, eh? Well, I can see you aren't going to be cooperative. Frankly I haven't time to convince you I'm not inimical to humanity in general; and even if I did, it probably wouldn't make any difference to you. The sanctity of your mental peregrinations is of such importance to you that no other consideration seems valid. I guess our little talk is over, unless you want to ask some questions."
Benton cleared his throat. He knew very well that Urei would have what he wanted, whether it was offered or not. But for some reason he wished to postpone the acquisition. "You claim you're harmless to humanity in general, but can you give me some proof?"
"Hardly. That's why I won't try. I can't prove good intentions, and since I possess a potential for harm, I can't possibly convince you I won't use it some day. Your conception of me as a completely logical entity won't let you believe that I might have such abstract attributes as loyalty, compassion or ethics. Those things aren't entirely logical, I'll admit; but they aren't glandular, either, so I could have them.
"But I can't prove that, so I'll waste no more time. To you, I suppose I've proved the exact opposite; I just intruded upon the privacy of your mind and obtained the information I need. Thanks for having the answers.... Goodbye."
Benton was stunned for a minute. He had felt nothing, and it seemed that he still retained his entire set of memories. That surprised him more than the fact that Urei had perpetrated his theft while answering his question. Urei's multiple consciousness explained that perfectly.
Back in his quarters, Benton sat on the one chair in his bedroom and pondered. He knew very well that he was doing it at the wrong time, but he couldn't blithely dismiss the menace of Urei's sentience from his mind with the thought that it would be safer to meditate on that subject during the day, when most of the thinking machine's circuits would be in use. Benton couldn't control his mind to that extent. He did, however, protect it from intrusion in the only way he knew.