The Professor's elapsed time was 22 seconds. Cyber IX had taken 31 seconds to answer the compound question. Professor Neustadt pursued his lips; he seemed displeased with his tremendous performance. Moving with the agility of a pallbearer, the D.A. gave Judge Anderson the third question: "In twenty-five words or less, state the Nernst Law of thermodynamics." This was clearly a trick question, designed to trap a human mind in its own verbiage. Cyber IX won, in eighteen seconds. But in just two-fifths of a second more; Professor Neustadt came through with a brilliant twenty-four word condensation: "The entropy of a substance becomes zero at the absolute zero of temperature, provided it is brought to this temperature by a reversible process." A tabulation of total elapsed time revealed that Professor Neustadt was leading by nine and three-tenths seconds. A wild excitement blended with the Judge's incredulity. The D.A. seemed to have developed a tic in his right check. On the fourth question, dealing with the structural formula similarities of dimenhydrinate and diphenhydramine hydrochloride, Professor Neustadt lost three seconds. On the fifth question, concerning the theoretical effects of humidity inversion on microwave transmission, the Professor gained back a full second. The courtroom was bedlam, and Walhfred Anderson was too excited to pound his gavel. In the glass-walled, soundproofed television booths, announcers grew apoplectic as they tried to relay the fever-pitch excitement of the courtroom to the outside world. Professor Neustadt held up his bone-thin hand for silence. "May it please the Court.... The District Attorney agreed that in the event of victory I could ask Cyber IX an optional question. I would like to do so at this time." Judge Anderson could only nod, and hope that his bulldog features were concealing his emotions. The D.A. kept his back rigidly to the television cameras. Professor Neustadt strutted up to Cyber IX, flipped on the vocader switch and turned to the cameras. "Since Cyber IX is essentially a scientific integrator and mathematical unit," he began pedantically, "I'll put my question in the Cyber's own framework. Had another Cyber been selected for this test, I would phrase my question differently." He turned challengingly back to Cyber IX, paused for dramatic effect, and asked: "What are the magnitudes of a dream?" Cyber IX hummed and twinkled. The hum rose higher and higher. The lights flickered in weird, disjointed patterns, blurring before the eye. Abruptly, the hum stopped. The lights dimmed, faded one by one. The eternally calm, eternally pleasant voice of Cyber IX spoke from the vocader grill: "Problem unsolved." * * * * *