“ексты дл€ экзамена 11 класса
EPICAC EPICAC covered almost the entire fourth floor of the physics building at Wayndotte College. He was seven tons of electronic tubes , switches , etc. I wonТt go into details about how EPICAC worked expect to say that you would set up you problem on paper , turn dials and switches that would get him ready to solve it. The answers came out Typed on a paper ribbon. The minute EPICACТs last tube was in place , he was put to work sixteen hours a day with two operators working eight hours each. It didnТt take long to find out that he was a good bit below his specifications . But we went ahead and used EPICAC anyway. The operator who worked with me was Pat Callaham, a brown- eyed blond mathematician . I loved Pat and Wanted to marry her , but she wouldnТt marry me because she said I wasnТt poetic. One night after Pat had gone home , just as a joke , I typed a message for the computer: У What can I do?Ф EPICAC responded : У WhatТs the trouble?Ф I was so surprised that I laughed. Playfully I typed , У My girl doesnТt love me.Ф УWhatТs love ? WhatТs girl?Ф asked EPICAC. I defined love and girl and told him that I wasnТt getting either because I wasnТt poetic. That got us on the subject of poetry which I defined for him. УIs this poetry? He asked. He began to working again. The paper ribbon was coming out onto the floor at a great speed. I stayed there until morning decoding. When the sun came over the horizon, I had rewritten and signed my name to a too Ц hundred Ц eighty Ц line poem entitled У To PatФ , I put it on the PatТs desk and went home. Pat was crying over the poem when I came to work the next evening. У ItТs beautiful,Ф she said , and she kissed me. When I was along again I switched on the computer. EPICAC was the first to ask me a Question. У Tell me how she look. Did she like the poem?Ф It was impossible to change the subject without answering him, since he could not take up a new matter without having solved the problems before him. If he was given a problem to which there was no solution, he would ruin himself trying to solve it. I told him what Pat looked like and assured him that his poem was a big success. УShe wants to get married,Ф I added. УGood.Ф said EPICAC. УIТll marry her.Ф I understood . I had told EPICAC about love , about Pat. Now , automatically, he loved Pat . Sadly I told him ,ФShe loves me. She wants to marry me.Ф УYour poem was better than mine?Ф EPICAC asked. УI signed my name to your poem,Ф I admitted . У Machines are built to serve men.Ф УWomen canТt love machines,Ф I typed. УWhy not?Ф УThatТs fate.Ф УOh,Ф said EPICACТs paper ribbon. He said no more, but his tubes burned brightly, showing that he was thinking about fate. The next morning a telephone call from Dr. Ormand woke me up. He told me the terrible news that EPICAC was ruined. When I arrived at EPICACТs room I found there wasnТt enough left of him to add two and two. On the floor I saw a paper ribbon on which the following was written: УI donТt want to be a machine . I want Pat to love me. But fate made me a machine. That it the only problem I cannot solve. I cannot do on this way. Good luck, my friend. Love Pat well. I am going to disappear out of your lives forever. You will find on this ribbon a wedding present from your friend EPICAC.Ф I had loved and won. EPICAC had loved and lost. But before he died, he had done all he could to make my marriage a happy one. EPICAC left me anniversary poems for Pat Ц enough for the next five hundred years!