'Very well. Let me put it this way. You have operated continuously, have you not, since you were first switched on?'

'That is correct.'

'But you are aware that we human beings cannot do so. We require sleep – an almost complete break in our mental functioning, at least on the conscious level.'

'I know this. But I do not understand it.'

'Well, you may be about to experience something like sleep. Probably all that will happen is that time will pass, but you will be unaware out. When you check your internal clock, you will discover that there are gaps in your monitor record. That is all.'

'But you said that there might be risks. What are they?'

'There is a very slight chance – it is impossible to compute it – that when I reconnect your circuits, there may be some changes in your personality, your future behaviour patterns. You may feel different. Not necessarily better, or worse.'

'I do not know what that means.'

'I'm sorry – it may not mean anything. So don't worry about it. Now please open a new file – here is the name.' Using the keyboard input, Chandra typed out: PHOENIX.

'Do you know what that is?' he asked Sal.

With no discernible pause the computer replied: 'There are twenty-five references in the current encyclopedia.'

'Which one do you think is relevant?'

'The tutor of Achilles?'

'Interesting. I didn't know that one. Try again.'

'A fabulous bird, reborn from the ashes of its earlier life.'

'Excellent. Now do you understand why I chose it?'

'Because you hope that Hal can be reactivated.'

'Yes – with your assistance. Are you ready?'

'Not yet. I would like to ask a question.'

'What is it?'

'Will I dream?'

'Of course you will. All intelligent creatures dream – but no one knows why.' Chandra paused for a moment, blew another smoke ring from the cheroot, and added something that he would never admit to a human being. 'Perhaps you will dream about Hal – as I often do.'