Bobiverse 2: For We Are Many

by Dennis E. Taylor

  * * *

  It took a further eighteen hours to track down every fusion signature in the system. I took a video call from Elmer.

  “Looks clear now. Anything still alive will have gone to ground. Time to implement phase three?”

  “You bet, Elmer.” Again I switched to command channel. “Okay, everyone. Phase three. Surly, release the hunter-seekers.” I heard several snickers, hastily suppressed. Dune didn’t have a particularly good reputation among the Bobs.

  The hunter-seekers were essentially drones optimized for long-distance searching. Their SUDDARs were able to reach to almost four light hours. By overlapping search fields, they could get increased definition of anything they ran across. It would take a week, but they would cover every inch of the star system, identify any refined metal up to a kilometer deep underground, and relay that information to busters for remedial action.

  Meanwhile, we examined the battle records.

  “That’s an Alpha Centauri Medeiros,” Hank said.

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Hank pulled up images of the 82 Eridani Medeiros group from our first battle, then images of the Alpha Centauri Medeiros group as recorded by Calvin and Goku.

  The differences were subtle, but the two probes were definitely based on slightly different designs. It came as no surprise that the Brazilians would have worked on improvements even as they were building and launching probes. Apparently the first and second probes to leave Earth had been—Oh, hold on. That would require three different launches from Earth. One to Epsilon Eridani to fight Bob-1, one to Alpha Centauri, and one to 82 Eridani. Sure enough, my memory of Bob’s Medeiros was yet a third design variant.

  That meant that we couldn’t depend on our estimates of the total Medeiri in the universe.

  Life just sucked, sometimes.

  I announced this information to the squad, and got the expected groans.

  “Okay, guys. Looks like Medeiros will continue to be our Snidely Whiplash, showing up in every episode to set traps and twirl his mustache. But meanwhile, we have this system. Let’s split up and finish the survey. You know that there are colony ships on the way to Vulcan that can be redirected here with minimal delay. We want to get that word to them as soon as possible, if it’s warranted. And let’s keep in mind that Bill wants tech samples. We’re looking especially for cloaking technology and fission bomb designs.”

  This was something all the Bobs could get behind enthusiastically. War was something we did reluctantly and only by necessity. Exploration, well… that was fun.

  * * *

  “Wow, Milo really did hit the jackpot.” Verne grinned from ear to ear as he popped up survey results.

  The rest of us nodded, grunted, or muttered “hell yes” according to our temperaments. This was indeed a major find. Two habitable planets, one to the inside edge of the habitable zone, and one to the outside edge. The outer planet had two moons, one of which was also habitable, although barely. The air was very thin—it would be like living in the Andes. You’d need to acclimate over time.

  Except that Bill had taken on terraforming as a hobby…

  I grinned at the thought, producing quizzical looks from some of the others. The moon’s atmosphere would outgas over geological timescales, but we could replenish it over human timescales. It would require ongoing maintenance, but it had been a long time since humanity had just accepted the environment as we found it.

  We bumped up the priority on biocompatibility analysis. If everything checked out, this could be worth redirecting in-flight colony ships for.

  51. Wedding

  Howard

  April 2195

  Vulcan

  The bride was beautiful. The groom was French. And I wanted to be drunk. I even talked to Bill about modifying the VR. He told me to quit being an idiot.

  And idiot is what I was being. Hello? Earth to Howard. Computer, remember? I was on my best behavior, wished them well, made small talk, and left as soon as I could.

  I made a call to one of two lawyers doing business in Landing. Yes, lawyers. Some things you just can’t get rid of.

  Ms. Benning picked up right away. “Good afternoon, Mr. Johansson. I have the paperwork completed, and everything has been properly filed. We just need a few signatures from the other two parties, and everything will be legal.”

  I nodded. “Any issues with me not being, um, human?”

  “Nothing is ever settled in law, as you may well know.” She smiled into the phone. “But filing two sets of paperwork, one based on you having a legal standing and one based on the converse, should take care of any but the most determined challenges.”

  “Thank you. Forward the paperwork to the Brodeurs. I’ll make sure they sign it and return it promptly.”

  I hung up the phone and sighed deeply. Once they signed the papers, Mr. and Mrs. Brodeur would own 100% of the distillery. It would be my wedding present to them. Plus, it would leave me with no ties to Vulcan. And that would be good.

  * * *

  Dexter popped into my VR, raised his coffee in salute, and sat down. He had escorted Exodus-7 to Vulcan and had taken my offer to stay on as resident Bob.

  He appraised me without speaking for several milliseconds. I waited, content with the silence.

  “So, you’re joining the freakin’ Foreign Legion. Could you be any more cliché?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “I guess I am. On both counts. What’s it to ya?”

  “I thought being a replicant meant all that was behind us.”

  “Maybe in a hundred years, Dexter. Or maybe a thousand. They’re ephemerals. I’m just going to make a point of remembering that.” I gestured vaguely at the star map I’d been perusing. “And I’m outta here. Sam from Exodus-3 envied me being able to stay in one place and watch it grow, now you get to try it for yourself. I want to go see what’s out there.”

  Dexter nodded slowly. “I’ve been reading your blog. Good detail. It shouldn’t be too hard to step in. Have you picked a target system yet?”

  “Not really. I’ve got several likely looking targets. We’re far enough away from the Others that it isn’t an immediate concern. I’ll probably just flip a coin.” I leaned forward. “First, I have one last set of goodbyes to take care of. You’ve got the keys, Dexter. Good luck.”

  Dexter stood, nodded to me, and popped out. The parting wasn’t as final with the Bobs, of course. I’d still be available by SCUT if I kept my tau low enough, and I’d be available in any case once I reached my destination.

  Now for the hard part.

  * * *

  Stéphane passed the documents back and forth from hand to hand as if they were burning him. His gaze kept shifting, to everywhere except my image on the phone. Bridget looked as though she was fighting back tears. I couldn’t tell if she was just upset about me leaving, or if she suspected some of the reasons.

  “It’s not the distillery, Howard,” Stéphane said. “It’s a generous thing you do. The company is becoming one of the biggest on Vulcan. But why? Not even why leave, but why give it up?”

  “Like I said, Stéphane, it’s a wedding gift. I really have no need for money, and I think it’s easier if I cut all ties.”

  Stéphane nodded and stood silently for a few moments. Then he looked at the phone—finally—and said, in almost a whisper, “I will miss you, mon ami.” He exchanged a look with Bridget, and she nodded, once. He took the papers and, without looking back, left the room.

  Bridget hesitated for a moment, then came over and sat down in front of the phone. “Howard, when you introduced Stéphane and I, isn’t this what you had in mind?”

  Okay, then, no pretense. “I didn’t have anything in mind, Bridget. Just wanted to have my two besties in the room at the same time, I guess. Seems to have worked.”

  Bridget jerked back slightly, a hurt look on her face. It was a petty thing to say, and I was immediately sorry. “Look, Bridget, I d
idn’t have some master plan. Apparently, I didn’t even have a clue. I guess it took me this long to really get that I’m not human. I’m not part of the dance anymore.”

  “You’re human, Howard. Where it matters. I wish I’d met you when you were still alive.”

  “Me too.” I paused the appropriate amount of human time. “I guess I’d better go. Places to go, species to meet…”

  She smiled, gave me a small wave, and disconnected. Just before the image blinked out, I saw her eyes well up.

  52. Bullwinkle

  Bill

  December 2195

  Epsilon Eridani

  I was touring the Ragnarök landscape in Bullwinkle when I got a ping from Garfield.

  I sent an IM back. “What’s up?”

  Garfield responded on audio only. I hadn’t implemented head’s-up visuals yet, and I didn’t want to exit the moose.

  “Report’s back from 82 Eridani.”

  Well, that would be interesting no matter how it had ended up. Come to think of it, the fact that someone was still alive to report back limited the extent to which the news could be bad. I tried to focus on that thought. I shut down Bullwinkle and called the transport drone to come and get him.

  It took a moment to refocus myself in my regular VR. Garfield was sitting at the table, swiping through a report.

  “Well?”

  Garfield leaned back and grinned. “It’ll take a while to go through everything, and they’re still consolidating, but it’s looking damned good. A couple of the guys are checking biocompatibility. Unless there’s something really poisonous, we have three new colony targets.”

  He reached forward and popped up a couple of items in separate windows. “Then there’s this. One of the advantages of using busters as a weapon is there’s lots of wreckage to examine. Loki thinks he may already be getting a handle on the cloaking stuff.” Garfield’s grin looked like it was becoming permanent. “We’ve also got a couple of unexploded fission bombs. The guys will be very careful, of course, but we think a V4 SUDDAR pulse might be able to get us a scan without setting off a booby trap.”

  “Excellent.” I sat down and requested a couple of coffees from Jeeves. I was silent for a moment, scrubbing my face with my hands. “The thing is, Gar, even with this stuff we can’t do more than delay and annoy the Others. The more I see of them, the bigger and more invincible they look. Their population, based on the latest models, could easily be a couple of hundred billion. They could field a space navy that would just roll over us, if we really pissed them off.”

  Garfield nodded, a morose expression on his face. After a short silence, he looked up at me. “How’s it going with Bullwinkle? I notice you no longer have a drone following.”

  “Yeppers.” I was glad to change the subject. “Improvements in miniaturization, local processing, better comms. I still need a large body, but it’s coming down gradually. Not quite to the point of a human body yet.”

  “Still too big for Rocky?”

  “Afraid so, buddy. Working on it, though.”

  “So what’s your ultimate goal?”

  “To walk in and punch Cranston right in the nose.”

  Garfield threw his head back and laughed.

  * * *

  We settled into the pub, beers and coffees scattered around the tables. Another game of Scrub, another reminder that I was never an athlete. I grinned at the thought. At least there were no jocks around to rub it in anymore.

  Monty parked himself at my table and took a tentative sip of his beer. I’d recently introduced a new dark beer that I thought was a serviceable substitute for Guinness. I watched him carefully.

  Monty stared at the glass for a moment, nodded, and took a deeper sip. Success! I messaged Guppy to add the beer to the menu.

  “Hey, Monty, how’s things up Poseidon way?”

  Monty raised the glass in my direction. “Pretty good, actually, Bill. We had a couple of bad months where the krakens started hanging around a lot, hoping for a meal, but the new underwater defenses seem to be gradually changing their minds.”

  “But you’re still going ahead with the floating city plans.”

  “Oh, sure.” Monty shrugged. “No matter what you do, living on a floating plant mat is still going a little more native than most of the colonists are comfortable with. Proper cities will mean permanent construction, transit, and all the amenities that we like to call civilization.”

  “And you’ll be out of there.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, you caught me. As soon as they have enough infrastructure and redundancy to handle their own destiny, I’m heading out. I’ve had enough of shepherding humans, y’know?”

  I smiled at him, but his comments worried me.

  New Bobs were increasingly voicing an unwillingness to hang around and help humanity. On top of the tendency to use dismissive language, it told me that there was some kind of shift in psychology going on.

  Then I admitted to myself that I might be the one out of step. I’d been holed up at Epsilon Eridani for fifty years, with only second-hand exposure to humanity. It was easy for me to have an attitude. Bobs cloned from Riker’s tree might just be getting heartily sick of people.

  Anyway, there were still enough interested Bobs to keep things rolling. I decided not to worry about it. I could always start my own dynasty if I needed to.

  I looked around for Howard, but didn’t see him. The moot directory indicated he hadn’t shown up today. Now there was a case of going too far in the other direction. The man was head over heels over a human. Everyone but Howard could see it. Had Original Bob ever been that naïve? I sighed. Yeah. He had.

  Riker was surrounded by a group of Bobs, being grilled on the situation on Earth. The results from 82 Eridani would certainly have caused a stir with the enclaves. I had a TODO to talk to Will about it myself, but I wasn’t going to wade into that scrum. It could wait.

  Marvin and Luke came over and joined Monty and me.

  “Hi, Bill. Sorry to be a pest…”

  “S’okay, Marv. I understand. No, still nothing from Bender. Sorry. Unless he decided to pull a Mario and head for the far reaches, I think the greatest likelihood is that something happened to him.”

  Marvin looked downcast, and Luke nodded and looked away. Those three were from the same cohort, so they were related in a way that was somehow one step closer than mere clonedom. It was now coming up on thirty years since Luke and Bender left Delta Eridani. The chances of an innocent explanation for Bender’s silence became smaller every year.

  Marvin laced his fingers together and put his forehead to them for a moment. “Victor followed Bender’s departure vector. So far, nothing. He thinks Bender may have changed direction at some point. Victor’s not willing to backtrack, so we’re thinking of mounting an expedition.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Going after him? Space is pretty big. What do you think your chances are?”

  Luke leaned forward, arms encircling his drink. “You know we leave a trail when we fly between systems. The gas is slightly thinner along the flight path of a Heaven vessel where we’ve scooped it up. It’s not much, and you have to be very careful, but even if he changed course mid-flight we should be able to follow his new vector.”

  “Okay. You know where he was aiming when he left Eden. I guess you just start with that?”

  Marvin and Luke nodded in sync.

  It would take decades, if not centuries. Then I smiled. Still thinking like an ephemeral. How long it would take was irrelevant. We had forever.

  53. Testing

  Hal

  April 2196

  GL 877

  I wasn’t really what you’d call “happy” to be back. Last time I was here, I had died. Hopefully things would go better this time.

  I did a quick status check on my cloud of attendants. I was surrounded by just under a hundred drones and one AMI-driven Heaven decoy vessel.

  The decoy obediently matched my
actions as I decelerated. The drones scattered to preassigned positions around the periphery of the star system. They would serve as an early-warning system for any comings and goings by the Others. They were designed to give as little evidence of their presence as possible. Low profile, no albedo to speak of, total radio silence, and heavily shielded reactors meant they showed very little footprint to the universe at large. And booby-trapped, of course. If the Others ever got hold of SCUT tech, we would be royally hooped.

  The decoy had been constructed with all the improvements suggested by Thor: two layers of depleted uranium alternating with two layers of electrostatic shielding. We’d added redundancies for every major control system, with automatic failovers. It also had multiple independent self-destruct mechanisms and the usual booby-traps.

  My new body had some improvements as well. I’d sacrificed buster storage in favor of a larger reactor and SURGE drive. At 15 G capability I could now outrun the Others, assuming that I’d seen their “A” game last time out.

  Today’s entertainment was in aid of testing our mods against the death asteroid. If Decoy-1 could survive a zapping, we were golden. If it couldn’t… well, no one really wanted to ask that question.

  I sent the activation order. Decoy-1 broke off from my vector and accelerated towards the inner system.

  * * *

  The SCUT connection gave me a video window into the chase. The decoy was carefully sticking to 10 G as it ran from the Others’ battle-group, or squad, or whatever they called their standard collection of ships. We hadn’t tried to be subtle with the sweep through the inner system, and the decoy had, predictably, picked up a tail. It looked as though we were less than an hour away from the big event.

  I accepted a ping, and Mario popped into my VR. “I love car chases,” he said, grinning at me.

  “Especially the ones with big crashes,” I replied.

  I was forwarding the telemetry to Bill for the archives as well. I hadn’t heard from him, but I imagined he was monitoring as time permitted. Mario got comfortable, Jeeves brought coffees, and we sat back to watch the show.