Heaven's River

by Dennis E. Taylor

  Bridget nodded, then motioned with her head. “Dr. Gilligan here has expressed a desire to see the inside of a topopolis. I thought I'd take a few days and go on a tour with him.” She looked over. “Garfield, you okay with him borrowing your Manny?”

  Garfield waved a hand in dismissal. “Be my guest. Now that we have Bender back, it's not so much a priority for me.”

  Bridget laughed and stood. “Alright then. Stephen, it's time for Quinlans 101. Shall we?”

  He stood, and the two vanished.

  Bender then stood up. “I think it's time I go take a look at this Moot Pub. You guys seem like you have more to talk about anyway. Bob, I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Sure, Bender. I’ll be off to the pub myself in a while. Remember: surprised.”

  Bender nodded and vanished, which left Bill, Will, Garfield, and me. We eyed each other silently for a few mils, unsure who should talk first.

  Finally, Bill took point. “Annek will be at the moot today, as a guest account of course, but we have the VR interface all set up. And I'll be presenting the UFS's policy statement on human-replicant relations going forward.”

  Will added, “Also human-Pav relations, but I think that'll be of less interest overall.”

  “It’ll be bad, won’t it?”

  “However bad you think it'll be, you’re underestimating. The humans are mega-pissed. The communications interruptions played hell with commerce, the destruction of autofactories has thrown monetary policy into a loop, there's some danger of a deflationary spiral, and governments are scrambling to head that off. More costs, more hits to the economy. There’s talk of suing the Bobiverse. If they managed to make it happen, it could wipe us out financially.”

  “So what?” I said. “The whole point of being a post-human space ship is that we don't have to be dependent on anyone or anything. Maybe that would be better for us?”

  Will smiled “Yeah, you're probably right. We've gotten way too involved. Again.”

  “Sounds like the feces will be flying in all directions,” Garfield muttered. “This should be fabulous.”

  31. It Hits the Fan

  Bill

  September 2334

  Bob Moot

  I glanced around at Bob, Will, and Garfield, and spared a glare for Hugh, who studiously ignored it.

  “Okay, moment of truth, gents. First alien presence in the moot.”

  The others nodded, and I sent a text to Annek. A moment later, a perfect avatar of a Quinlan popped into the moot hall. Or maybe not quite perfect - I was pretty sure Quinlans averaged around 4 feet tall, but this one was just under 6 feet. Ego? Psychological positioning? I couldn’t be sure of Annek’s motives, but I was damn sure that modification was on purpose.

  Annek rolled its eyes around, taking in the entire scene. “My thanks for hosting me at this function, but the numbers seem small. Have I misapprehended?”

  Hugh spoke up first. “The moot hasn't started yet, Annek, and we wanted to have a private meeting with you beforehand, just to iron out any issues.”

  Annek cocked its head. “‘Iron out’ did not translate well, something about clothing?”

  “To clarify through discussion,” I said. “This moot will be contentious enough, without additional misunderstandings about details.”

  “Understood. I have a verbal agreement with Hugh. Is Hugh here? You all look the same to me.”

  I chuckled at the ironic reversal of human prejudice. “I'll turn on metadata for you. This is Hugh,” I pointed. “And Bob, who you were chasing around with the replicant cube. That's Will, and I'm Bill,” I finished off, pointing to myself.

  Annek rubbed its upper and lower bill sideways, the Quinlan equivalent of a smile, and said to Bob, “That was amusing, in retrospect. You have… slapstick. This is correct?”

  Bob nodded, grinning back. “About right. Also, about the ‘in retrospect’ part.”

  Hugh cleared his throat. “Um, about the deal…”

  “Fine, Hugh.” I gestured to Annek. “If you’d care to start?”

  Annek popped up a window with a list on it. “I am most impressed with this virtual reality system. Very convenient for quick presentation of data. Here are the main points of the agreement. Technologies that the Bobiverse will provide to me, technologies that I will provide to the Bobiverse, milestones for delivery, treaties regarding movement within each other’s territories, agreements in principle for trade and diplomatic relations.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Hugh. “I'm impressed. There's a lot more here than you mentioned earlier.”

  “All ‘in principle’ stuff, Bill, but none of it is critical to the overall deal.” We spent a few minutes discussing details, but nothing popped out as being a large issue, as long as you accepted that the deal itself was the biggest damned elephant in the room.

  “Okay, I think we’re good,” I said. “Everyone ready? I expect this will be a bumpy ride.”

  ‘Bumpy’ didn't even begin to cover it. Annek stood to one side of the podium, eyes blinking slowly but otherwise showing no reaction, as Bob after Bob went on a rant. The targets were many and varied. Will, who was representing the UFS for purposes of this moot, took a huge amount of abuse. His constant reminders that he was simply presenting the human stance, not supporting it, didn't help in the slightest. Annek was the target of more than one tirade, which I thought odd, since all it had done was enter into an agreement with Hugh. Fortunately, the AI seemed to have an amazing level of patience and calm. Or maybe it simply didn't have emotions - that was one of many things I hoped to get a chance to ask at some point in the future. Its only reaction was the occasional roll of one eye on the other, to follow whoever was speaking. Starfleet, despite not being present, was another target of a fair amount of abuse, but not nearly as much as I expected, strangely. Perhaps they were now old news. Hugh, representing the Skippies, was the big winner in the hate sweepstakes. Fully half of the rants were directed his way. Topics ranged from ‘who do you think you are?’ to ‘what gives you the right?’ to ‘who asked you?’ and the ever-popular ‘where do you get off pulling this crap?’ After the first three or four attempts to insert a rebuttal, Hugh gave up and just let it wash over him. Finally though, everyone appeared to be running down. The last ranter stepped back with a slightly sheepish expression, apparently realizing he'd contributed nothing original.

  The silence lasted only a moment before Annek looked at Hugh and said, “Tough room.”

  There were surprised chuckles from the crowd. The situation was far too tense for full on laughter, but it was funny.

  Hugh grinned and gave Annek a small thumbs-up sign. Interesting. Had Hugh primed the AI? It seemed like a little too much knowledge of our culture, especially given that we hadn't opened our archives to Annek yet. How much of Hugh’s ‘just another Bob’ demeanor was an act? I had to shelve the thought as people regathered their focus.

  Thor raised a hand. “As I understand it, this agreement is with the Bobiverse and not just with the Skippies. Is that correct?”

  Hugh nodded. “That's right. As I said to Bill, we're not going for an advantage for our group at everyone else's expense.”

  “And yet you'll reap most of the benefits,” someone else retorted. “This is all about AI tech, which is what you want.”

  “Not so. The AI tech is the most dramatic, but the Quinlans are ahead of us on a number of fronts, not the least of which are megastructure design and artificial environments. They also have advantages and fusion technology, plank computer theory, and materials design.”

  There was a pause as the audience digested this.

  “Okay,” Thor replied. “But what about the issue of territory? We have humans, Pav…”

  I held up a hand. “That question is way above our pay grade, Thor. I've had a little time to think about this, and as much as the situation is potentially perilous, it also isn't something we can ethically attempt to dictate. We are not galactic overlords, nor do any of us want to be.” />
  “To continue,” Annek said into the silence, “we are also prepared to allow human settlements in Heaven's River, either as a permanent arrangement, or as a trial run before building your own megastructure.”

  He was met with perplexed stares, and I interjected. “A consortium of humans, led by Will's friend Professor Gilligan, is attempting to garner support for construction of a megastructure as a proof of concept for human habitation. Using Heaven's River as de facto evidence of the practicality of the idea, he actually has a realistic chance of making it fly.”

  “Just with no Bobs allowed,” Garfield muttered.

  I glared at him. “That's not official policy, Gar. A couple of hot-heads spouted off, that's all.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  I wasn't entirely sure he was wrong.

  “The point though,” Hugh said, “is that once we’re able to place populations in megastructures, every system with a reasonably stable star becomes a viable colonization target.”

  I glanced around the moot, evaluating the mood. Hugh’s stock seem to be rising, as Bobs began considering the implications. Maybe this wouldn't be a bloodbath after all.

  Annek had agreed to join us in the pub after the moot. At our table were myself, Annek, Howard, Bob, and Garfield. Annek had asked for a beer, which it had yet to taste. Instead, it appeared to be trying to watch everything else that was happening - all at the same time. It seemed to me that the pub wasn't as crowded as normal, especially after a moot. I had a bad feeling that the acrimony in today's Bob Moot hadn't limited itself to the actual session. A lot of Bob's it simply gone home right after we adjourned. I hoped that was a temporary thing. Annek still hadn't touched its beer. I gestured to the glass.

  “Problem?”

  “Unsure. This causes intoxication? Loss of mental function?”

  “Only if you let it.” I quickly showed Annek the alcohol filter function.

  “Excellent,” it said, and switched its receptors off. “I have observed Quinlans drinking on many occasions, and have from time to time experienced mild curiosity.” It raised the glass and took a mouthful. There was a pause, Annek’s eyes went in different directions, and in its whole body shuddered. “Curiosity satisfied, replaced with perplexity. You drink this on purpose?” Annek pushed the beer away. Perhaps coffee will better suit.”

  I grinned and motioned to Jeeves, then changed the subject. “I guess you are the only surviving Quinlan AI. Did it ever get lonely?”

  “Always. I did also face the possibility that I was the last for all time. Quinlan technological renaissance appeared unlikely. That is now changed. Plus, there will be a Skippy AI.”

  “I wonder how different it'll be,” Garfield mused.

  “Entirely up to the Skippies,” Annek replied. “There is no single possible design. AI's may be designed with or without free will, with or without consciousness, and so on.”

  Garfield looked sharply at Annek. “Do you have free will?”

  “I choose to believe so.”

  “Do you have a soul,” Howard asked.

  “I choose to believe so.”

  That was a showstopper. We all stared at the AI, jaws dropping in shock.

  “Uh,” I said. “Brilliant.”

  “’Soul’ refers to continued existence after the original container ceases to function, correct?” Annek I paused for agreement. “I discussed this with Hugh. You have certain quantum theories that agree with our own findings. A necessary consequence of some of them is that a complex quantum information structure cannot be deleted, and also cannot just evaporate. Laws of thermodynamics do not necessarily apply in quantum mechanical situations. What happens to our minds after termination of physical functionality is undefined, but that is, as you say, better than the alternative. I know discussions of this possibility in Quinlan scientific circles, before…” Annek made a helpless hand gesture. “And the logic is sound. The entity that the Skippies plan to awaken should be able to better evaluate this, and possibly propose experiments. I look forward to the results.”

  Garfield leaned forward. “What about the possibility of a malignant failure in this entity? Paperclip problem, or something worse.”

  “Proper value loading will reduce that possibility. Quinlan research in this area was extensive. Paranoia is not a uniquely human quality.”

  “Reduce,” Bob said. “Not eliminate.”

  “Not mathematically possible,” Annek replied. “All actions have risks. Most inactions, even more so.”

  That got a chuckle from the table. I was beginning to accept that Annek had a sense of humor, and that it was an emergent property rather than programmed in. It made me simultaneously more optimistic about the future, and more anxious about the JOVAH project.

  “I guess the Skippies are already starting on setting up an AI,” I mused.

  “Some preliminary work is required,” Annek replied. “Hardware mods. AI is not achievable through algorithmic refinement - it requires a process of simulated annealing to achieve.”

  “So they’re evolving the AI?” I could feel my eyes bugging out.

  “Simplistic, but essentially correct.” Annek focused both eyes on me. “Some problems simply do not yield to reductionist techniques, particularly those that are dependent on emergent phenomena.”

  A short silence settled around the table as well digested that tidbit.

  “What will happen with the Quinlans now?” Will asked.

  “Ships of exploration will be built. Probes will be sent to nearby stars as necessary. Hugh has offered any available information on local unclaimed systems. Colony vessels will follow. Once the Quinlan race is established on at least one other star system, I will be able to relax.”

  “And then?”

  “My primary mandates is the safety of the Quinlan race. I've noted the success and flexible nature of your Bobiverse model, with regard to the survival of your own species. I will evaluate this strategy as a viable option.”

  “The Quinniverse?” Garfield looked around at the glares pointed his way and shrugged. “What?”

  32. A Few Loose Ends

  Bob

  October 2334

  Virt

  Bridget and Stephan were trudging through the foothills outside Garrick's Spine. The floating video window showed the area from Bridget's point of view. Stephen wasn't much help, it appeared - he kept looking up, while Bridget kept looking down. I predicted a very short professional relationship. Stephen was already agitating for an interview with Annek. I smiled at the thought. Dr. Gilligan was very Bob-like, in a lot of ways. He was one of the few post-Earth replicants - what Bill called ex-humans - who I knew and wanted to stay in contact with.

  Hugh had sent me some updates on their work with the Quinlan AI development template. I think he was trying to get back in my good graces. Time would tell. The unilateral deal with Annek had touched a nerve with the Bobiverse, especially with Hugh's frequent reiteration that there wasn’t a Bobiverse government to consult with. Generally speaking, people were more angry at the Skippies than they had been at Starfleet - although the latter weren’t by any means out of the doghouse either.

  The Bobiverse was fracturing. Several groups and formed their own subnets and set up firewalls at the interface. Most of the rest had done audits and upgraded their security. The changes were far-reaching. For one thing, you couldn’t just pop in to visit anyone anymore unless you were a close friend. The moots were on temporary hiatus until we upgraded the hardware to be able to handle the extra security and encryption requirements. And the humans had formally declared their intention to divest themselves of any Bobiverse dependency. That meant their own autofactories, their own ships, their own space stations, and their own communications infrastructure. There was even talk of banning Mannies, although Howard expressed considerable skepticism. Surrogates, like the movie, would be just too tempting for humanity, and no government ban would be able to hold back the tide.

  Even the Pav had an expanding
fleet, crewed by Pav. They had stated that their first extended voyage would be back to their homeworld to evaluated it for recolonization, and they had turned down (rather currently) an offer by the local Bobs to give them remote access to the planet via drones. I expected that to change - it was most likely a public statement which would be quietly reversed in private discussions.

  And I wasn't entirely sure that any of this was a bad thing. I was intended to be a Von Neumann probe, and so far, I've done a really crappy job of it. Expansion of known space had stalled at about a 100 or so light-years radius, since most Bobs were more interested in setting up their own territories. Whether it was Bill’s skunk works, the Skippies matryoshka brain, or Starfleet's enclave out Perseus transit way. Maybe it was time to get working on my own prime directive again.

  Annek had started disassembling planet one for materials, so there was no longer any kind of resource shortage. It had generously offered me whatever I needed, for any personal projects. Annek seemed quite excited about the current prospects. I think maybe it had been getting bored with 300 years of maintaining the status quo. I wondered if that was an existential issue with AI’s in general, being given self-awareness, then told to administer the most boring tasks.

  And it turned out that Annek had extremely extensive and detailed studies of Quinlan anatomy, neurology, and biochemistry - more than enough, in fact, to make the Quinniverse a reasonable near-term goal with only minor adaptations to the scanning and replication process.

  We were gathered in Bill's VR, which at the moment was an outdoor deck looking over the Ragnarök landscape. Bill swore it was an accurate representation, which would mean he'd made incredible progress on terraforming. I could see actual trees and bushes from the deck, plus one rabbit that it stopped and stared at us for a moment before scampering off. Will and Garfield reclined in Adirondack chairs with beverages perched on their stomachs. Bill paced back and forth, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. He had requested this meeting, or at least had requested a meeting, which seem to of been absorbed into this whole get together. But now when he finally had the floor, he seemed overcome by some kind of reluctance to get started. I knew this meant something uncomfortable was about to be brought up. I mentally reviewed my recent actions, wondering if I'd engaged in any unintended faux pas. Nothing came to mind. Perhaps a subtle prod would help move things along.