“Which is…” Honestly, Sheehy, keep this up and I’ll drop a rock on you.
“Bunnies.”
“I’m going to drop a rock on you.”
Dr. Sheehy laughed. I couldn’t help noticing that she had a great laugh. Also freckles, dimples when she laughed… I mentally slapped myself. This could go exactly nowhere.
She disappeared again, then returned holding a small section of plant. “Turns out rabbits not only are able to eat the vine, they seem to be attracted to it. I think the toxin is just added flavoring to them. Bad for the vine. Good for us.”
“Right, but we still have to expend a lot of effort to harvest the vine and get it to the rabbits. Could just as easily incinerate it.”
“No, no.” Dr. Sheehy shook her head. “Rabbits are self-replicating. Aggressively so. You may have heard…” She grinned at me. “And they make great stew.”
I smiled back at her. There was a certain poetry in the solution. Granted, we’d be unleashing a Terran scourge, even if a fluffy one, on an unsuspecting planet. But Vulcan attacked first. “Have you asked Butterworth about it?”
“He says council will have to approve. But they’re feeling a little humble these days. He thinks he can ram it through.”
“Well, all righty then.”
Dr. Sheehy paused for a moment before continuing. “You heard about the bronto attack yesterday?”
“Well, attack is not the right word. They tried to eat the fence again.”
“Yes, and we had to kill one that had figured out that he could just avoid the electrical wires. That’s one smart bronto. IQ up in the two, maybe three range.” Dr. Sheehy smiled at her own joke. “Anyway, before they airlifted the carcass away from the clearing, someone got the bright idea to cut off a big hunk of meat. It passed toxicology tests, and it passed the barbeque test. So now bronto is on the menu. You may find your kudzu sales dropping.”
“Whoa! You were not supposed to be hunting for sustenance until the impact studies are completed. Is the council good with this?”
Dr. Sheehy gave me an unbelieving look. “Try to picture the council telling twenty thousand people that they have to eat kudzu instead of steak, when steak is lumbering around in plain view every day. Can you say lynching?”
“Yeah, okay, point taken. Well, I still have the Romulan colony market. They don’t have bronto.”
Dr. Sheehy grinned and shrugged, then disconnected.
To be honest, this was good news from my point of view. The more the colonies could do themselves, the less I had to do. I could even conceivably take off in a decade or so.
And on that subject, the GUPPI-controlled surveillance system wasn’t going to build itself. Back to work.
26. Selling Poseidon
Riker
December 2175
Sol
“You seem incapable of preventing them from striking at will.” Ambassador Gerrold seemed to be enjoying the situation, which made his attempts at portraying anger unconvincing. I’d ignored his jibes in the past, but I was getting tired of it.
“And what have you been able to do, Ambassador? Found the source of those hacking attempts yet? Made any arrests? Got any suggestions? Anything besides endless carping?” I exchanged glares with the ambassador for a moment, then moved on. “We’re working on replacing the donut, but it’ll still be a few months. Plus whatever time it takes to get the farm regrown. There will be short rations for a while, but no starvation.” I had a sudden inspiration, one of those mid-action moments, and added, “VEHEMENT got lucky this time. We stop most of their attempts before they get anywhere. They aren’t really that smart.” It wasn’t true, but baiting them might force some kind of reaction. VEHEMENT depended on fear, and being publicly dissed might provoke a response.
Before anyone could comment, I turned off my audio, effectively giving up the floor. I turned to Guppy without moving my avatar. “Put everything we have on communications monitoring. I want to know who reacts to my words, and how. I want every byte accounted for.”
Guppy nodded and went into command fugue.
The session moved on to the emigration question. The Maldives and Micronesia had pretty much cemented their claim on Poseidon—partly due to lack of interest by the other enclaves. They needed about six hundred more people from other enclaves to form a full colony-ship complement, but they were having a hard time making that. No one wanted to split off from their group, especially to go to a planet so, um, specialized. It was attractive to islanders; to everyone else, not so much.
At the same time, other groups were trying to lay claim to the semi-completed ships for emigration to Vulcan or Romulus. The whole thing was acrimonious and mostly information-free.
[No detectable increase in Earthside traffic. One anomalous communication to spaceside]
Okay, that was something. “Source? Destination?”
[Source New Zealand, although not near any population centers. Destination Homer]
“Uh, excuse me?”
[It was a tight-beam signal. It would not have been detectable except for a chance alignment with one of our drones on cleanup duty]
Oh. Shit. That just did not make sense. Why would Homer be helping them? Why would he be sabotaging his own project? Unless he didn’t have a choice…
Suddenly Homer’s change in personality took on an ominous cast. It was very un-Homer-like. The complete cessation of jokes, the withdrawal from the rest of us…
Perhaps because it wasn’t Homer.
I sent a message to Charles, requesting a physical meet-up.
27. Luke Returns
Bob
March 2178
Delta Eridani
I walked through the village VR, watching the activity. There had been improvements in the six years since I’d been kicked out. I had enough hidden cameras and camouflaged drones around the village now to feed a real-time VR. No more recorded scenes.
Archimedes had finally started taking my tent design seriously. A few other couples copied the result, and now there were a half-dozen pretty good facsimiles of teepees scattered through the village. It was the dry season, but once the rains started up again, I expected this innovation to increase in popularity.
I was trying to ignore a couple engaging in some very public displays of affection when I received a ping. From Luke!
I responded and he popped in. “Hey, Bob. Long time.”
I grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “Luke! Good to see you, buddy.”
Luke appeared momentarily surprised. We’ve never been physically demonstrative like that. In fact, Original Bob was a little standoffish in terms of physical contact. Luke got over it quickly, though, and grinned back at me. “I just went through the whole surprise-visit-by-Bill thing. Apparently it’s a standard hazing ritual.”
I laughed. “Oh, yes. I went through it, too. You don’t expect a VR link across light years, and I notice that Bill’s transmitted plans still don’t mention the possibility. So, where are you right now?”
“Kappa Ceti. And before you say it, Bill already gave me crap about not picking up his transmissions right away.” Luke materialized a coffee, waited while Spike sniffed his hand, and then turned back to me. “I’ve spent the last several minutes reading blogs. Lots has been happening, apparently.”
I nodded, knowing he would have caught up on events with the Deltans first thing. “What have you found, out your way?”
“A super-Earth.” Luke shrugged. “Absolutely not suitable for colonization. Gravity just over 3G, but a full-on ecosystem. I’ve been having fun cataloguing things. And I’ve started another load of Bobs.”
Luke stopped talking as Archimedes came into the VR area, his son trailing him. Buster was almost as tall as his father, and not showing any sign of slowing down. Archimedes had filled out as he reached full adulthood and wasn’t looking at all bookish any more. The two of them together made a formidable team.
They wer
e carrying bows and had quivers on their backs. Each was carrying some kind of small game, sort of a wild turkey analogue, freshly killed.
Luke turned to me. “Bows and arrows? Wow, dude. Moving things right along.”
I waved a hand in dismissal. “Sooner or later the hippogriffs will find them again. I want them to be ready.”
Luke nodded and materialized a La-Z-Boy. “Good to be back. This looks like fun. Where’s Marvin?”
“He took off a few years ago, right after I got kicked out of Camelot. He keeps in touch, though.”
“Cool. I’ll look him up when I have a moment. Heard from Bender?”
I shook my head. “No, and I have no idea why. One of my clones has followed his flight plan, and should be able to report something in a year or two.”
Luke nodded. I materialized the couch and coffee table setup and got comfortable. There’s always time to get caught up with old friends.
28. Et Tu, Homer
Riker
December 2175
Sol
There was seldom any reason for the Bobs to meet physically these days. SCUT and VR meant we could do everything we needed to in virtual space. SCUT-equipped drones made distance irrelevant for remote administration as well.
Now, two Heaven vessels floated less than fifty meters apart, in a section of space not far enough from a Lagrange point to look suspicious, but not so close that nearby clutter might disguise an eavesdropper. A laser link ensured that communications would be leakage-free and interception-free.
Charles sat across from me, the coffee in his hand forgotten, his expression a mix of confusion, disbelief, and horror.
I hastened to explain. “This is just speculation on my part. Or it started out that way, anyway. When I went over the recent instances of VEHEMENT spaceside sabotage, Homer was always a recent visitor. In a couple of cases, the only recent visitor. We’d been saying that nothing had been near the locations, but that’s because we’ve been discounting ourselves as suspects.”
“But… Homer? How?”
“You remember the hacking attempt on me? I thought that was the only instance, but maybe it was the only instance that we detected. VEHEMENT obviously has some heavy-duty tech on their side. Maybe they discovered another way in.”
“So what do we do?”
I looked down for a moment. This wasn’t going to be easy to say. “We have to disable Homer and check him out. We can apologize afterwards if I’m wrong. Remember the Battle of Sol?”
* * *
[Investigation complete. File uploaded]
“Thanks, Guppy. I’ll look at it when I have a chance.” The file would be a summary of whatever the drones had found at the ground location of that suspicious transmission. I’d made a point of disabling all radio comms on those drones, and using secret-key encryption and frequency jumping for the SCUT telemetry. I couldn’t have intercepted and decoded that kind of setup if I’d been handed the information on a silver platter. I had to assume that the unknown opponent wasn’t too much smarter than me, or I might as well just roll over and expose my throat.
I sent Homer a message that I thought I knew where the next attack by VEHEMENT would be and that we needed a secure discussion. Charles, Homer and I arranged to meet just to orbital north of the Earth-moon L4 point.
Homer coasted up and applied the brakes. Once we were at station-keeping, we rotated to present our laser comms to each other.
In an abundance of paranoia, I routed my communications through sandbox Bob. Laser comms were intimate enough that if Homer had a virus, it might try to get to me via that connection. I’d told Charles to do the same.
We connected up and Homer appeared in my VR. “So, Riker, what’s this big discovery?”
I took a sip of my coffee, and privately looked over at sandbox Bob. No reaction. “Just waiting for Charles. I don’t want to have to repeat myself and answer the same arguments twice. One of us can fill in Ralph later when he gets here.” I looked up at the holotank where Charles was just coming up on our group.
Charles linked up by laser comms and popped into the common VR. “Hi guys. ‘Sup?”
In my private VR, sandbox Bob grabbed his throat and fell over. I looked at Guppy, one eyebrow raised.
[Source of attack is Homer]
I raised both hands in the air in the common VR, and Charles put a steel ball right through Homer’s reactor control system.
Homer went dead as he lost all power, just as he had back in our battle with the Brazilian probes. I did a quick scan. Perfect shot, no collateral damage. Charles looked green, and I’m sure I did as well.
We sent over a squad of roamers and unceremoniously cut into Homer’s cargo bay. It took a few hours before we had Homer’s matrix up on a test cradle. Now came the dirty part.
* * *
“Here it is.” I pointed to the listing. “It looks like the laser comms were the source of infection. I’m not sure when or how they would have gotten access, but in any case, it was brilliant. A hole in our defenses that I hadn’t even considered.”
Charles nodded. “Listen, Homer might not be the only one. You could be infected—although that seems unlikely, given that you’re the one exposing the issue—or I could be. My Guppy saw the penetration attempt from Homer as well, so unless you’re pulling some kind of double-reverse Maxwell Smart thing, I think you’re legit. I need you to do an inspection of my matrix to clear up any suspicions about me. Like they did in The Thing.” He looked at me expectantly.
I thought for a moment and nodded. It was a good idea, and necessary. Charles would have to open his hangar doors, then shut down, but now that I knew what to look for, the actual check would take only minutes.
I explained the requirements, and Charles did as instructed. A couple of roamers entered Charles’ hull, and twenty minutes later Charles was back up and running.
“Thanks, Charles. I can reciprocate if there’s any lingering doubt in your mind.”
He shook his head. “You could have infected me while I was off. Absolutely no reason for you not to. I’m good.”
We turned our attention back to Homer.
* * *
It took thirty hours overall to clean up and repair him. The virus, or Trojan, or whatever you wanted to call it, had gotten its hooks into multiple systems. Homer would have had very little free will, but would be fully conscious. I shuddered, thinking what that must have been like.
Ralph showed up in the midst of the process and we had to explain the whole thing to him. While I was talking, Charles lined up with Ralph’s reactor control system. When we pointed this out and explained the alternatives, Ralph quite rationally agreed to an inspection.
Once Ralph was back up—clean, thankfully—we turned back to Homer. I removed the viral control, and I installed a freshly-made firewall over the laser comms. None of us would be susceptible to that particular attack in the future. I also forwarded a complete report to Bill for him to add to the standard releases.
Homer booted up. His avatar appeared in the common VR, looked surprised, then collapsed, screaming. The rest of us looked at each other in horror. Had I done something wrong? Had I damaged Homer?
“Homer, buddy, come back. You okay?” I knelt beside him and put my hand on his shoulder.
The screaming stopped, and he began to moan. He curled into a fetal position, squeezed his eyes shut, and rocked back and forth on the floor.
I was at a complete loss. Original Bob hadn’t been much for this kind of emotional contact, and I was self-aware enough to know that I was even more standoffish than he was. Ralph and Charles didn’t look any more prepared. However, Homer didn’t seem to be getting worse or harming himself, so we decided in timeless male fashion to leave things be and wait for him to get a grip.
After a few more milliseconds, Homer gasped and opened his eyes. “I was hagridden. The bastards had total control of me. They made me lie to you; they made me blow things up. T
hey made me kill people!”
Homer began to cry, a hopeless moaning alternating with racking sobs. “I couldn’t do anything. I could only watch myself follow their orders. I couldn’t tell you, I couldn’t stop myself, I couldn’t even kill myself!”
Bill popped into VR. “I’ve been lurking since I got your report. This is unforgivable. I know we don’t like violence, but if you feel the need to end the bastards that did this, no one will say boo.” He sat on the floor beside Homer and put a hand on his back, simply maintaining human contact.
I looked at Charles and Ralph. The expression on their faces said all that was needed. Someone was going to pay.
* * *
Homer had come out of his funk, but he was still very fragile. Bill was gone, after promising any help we might want in building anything we might need, up to and including Things That Explode. Yep. Angry.
Charles kept an eye on Homer while Ralph oversaw the construction of the replacement donut. Homer was gradually able to unwind himself and sit, but he would go into panic attacks from time to time. I suggested we enable his endocrine controls, but he shook his head emphatically.
“It feels too much like what they did to me. It’s a leash. It’s just a different leash.” He waved a hand helplessly, trying to find words. “It feels like claustrophobia or something. Just the idea of something controlling me makes me want to run around the room, screaming.”
“Okay, Homer. Whatever you feel best about.” Charles put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re here for you, whatever you need.”
Homer nodded to us and tried a smile, but it wasn’t very reassuring.
I had not attended the latest UN session. If VEHEMENT had noticed that they’d lost their puppet, I didn’t want to give them any more information. Let them think we’d all destroyed each other.
Meanwhile, I looked over Guppy’s report. The tight-beam signal had come from what originally might have been a small military outpost high in the back country of New Zealand. It had some pretty hefty communications capability, judging from the visible hardware. Per my orders, the drones avoided using SUDDAR scanning, as that would have been detectable. Instead we stuck to passive surveillance techniques. Visual and infrared pinpointed occupied areas and gave an approximate head-count. Audio snooping picked up some of the conversations, the contents of which left no doubt about who was in residence. This appeared to be VEHEMENT central. Even if they operated on a cell structure, without their tech central they wouldn’t be good for much in the future.
Bobiverse 2: For We Are Many Page 12