All These Worlds (Bobiverse Book 3)

by Dennis E. Taylor

  There were nods, and Bobs started popping out to work on their assigned tasks.

  I sat back and rubbed my forehead. Like the Others weren’t enough of a headache.

  Outstanding.

  Derelict

  Herschel

  March 2227

  Kuiper belt, Delta Pavonis

  Neil and I moved slowly between the drifting hulks, SURGE drives on lowest power. The two Others’ cargo vessels loomed huge around us. Ten kilometers in length and a kilometer in diameter, they felt more like planetoids than something constructed by intelligent beings.

  They even came with their own debris field. The derelicts had taken some pretty severe hits from the looks of it. Pieces of cargo vessel drifted lazily in complicated orbits around the two ships. The effect was eerie, like floating through an underwater graveyard.

  I messaged Neil. “I’m not picking up anything. You?”

  “Nope. Temps are down around thermal equilibrium. These things haven’t done anything but drift in a long time.”

  “Oh?”

  “We were targeting essential systems. I think the attacks will have taken out power cores, and you know how that always ends up…”

  “Yeah. Kablooie.”

  We separated and completed individual circumnavigations of the wrecks. No surprises. By unspoken agreement, we deployed drones carrying squads of roamers. The drones had orders to do close-up scans, while the roamers would offload and poke around anything interesting.

  Finding a way in wasn’t really a problem. One of the hulks had been almost cut in two. The two halves were more disconnected than connected—only in free fall could such a small ribbon of metal hold together such massive segments.

  The second hulk was in much better shape. A hole literally big enough to drive a battleship into, on a ship this size, barely qualified as a ding. But it’s not the size of the damage, it’s the quality. We must have taken out something critical.

  The ships had been drifting for ten years now. We didn’t really expect any kind of activity. But we’d learned caution from previous encounters with the Others, and from a generation of B-movies.

  The opportunity to examine the interior of an Others’ cargo vessel was too tempting to pass up, of course. We spent several hours, real-time, planning for every contingency we could think of. Then, leaving a couple of drones on look-out, we cautiously entered the cargo vessel through the rent in its side.

  Right away, things got complicated. The ship wasn’t, it turned out, just a big cavern. We found ourselves in a large bay or hold or something, forming a pie-shaped section of the interior. That might have been the end of the exploration, except that whatever had taken out the cargo vessel had apparently continued right through the ship, taking out a lot of equipment in the process.

  At the other end of the cavernous space, we exited into what appeared to be a central corridor. About a hundred meters in diameter, it extended from one end of the ship to the other. This certainly explained the large armored doors at either end of the cargo vessels.

  “This thing is mostly intact,” Neil said in a near-whisper. “You don’t think it could still activate, do you?”

  “You saw the equipment back there, Neil.” I noticed I was whispering as well, but I couldn’t help it. This had the feel of exploring a haunted castle. “Not sure what we took out exactly, but it must have been critical.”

  “Can I have that in writing?”

  “Sure, no problem. Bend over, and I’ll get my felt pen.”

  “Oh, hah hah. If we get eaten by ants, you’ll look pretty stupid.”

  “Well, that’s why we agreed not to do any SUDDAR sweeps. You were listening, right?”

  Neil snorted but didn’t respond directly. “I’ll head that way, toward the end with the reinforced ring.”

  “No prob. Be careful.”

  We drifted off in opposite directions, doing a visual-only inspection.

  It took less than a day to reach the ends of the ship. I received a call from Neil. “Hey, uh, Herschel…”

  “Umm?”

  “I’m looking at this huge thingamajig, and I think it’s the power core.”

  “Wait, you mean in one piece? And what are you doing in one of the bays?”

  “It was open. I went in. Sue me.”

  I sighed. I’d have done the same. “So, what did the attack take out, if that’s the power core?”

  “Maybe a fluke shot through the A.l. or something. But this is definitely the power core. The size of the conduits kind of gives it away.”

  “Fusion reaction shut down gracefully?”

  There was a moment of silence. “Well, that’s the thing. I don’t think this is a fusion reactor.”

  Suddenly, this was more than just a scavenging mission. “Have you found any indications of ants?”

  Neil responded in the negative. I took a moment to double-check my train of thought, then said, “Okay, we can’t put that off any more. We have to know if we’re going to have a problem, so let’s move all our equipment out of the hulks. We’ll do a low-power SUDDAR sweep to see if we activate any ants. Once we’re sure it’s clean, let’s take a couple of high-resolution scans of this mystery equipment, and see if we can figure it out.”

  “Affirmative.” Telltales showed Neil’s devices vacating the hulks. I ordered mine out as well.

  Within an hour, we had our scans. But no answers. Not really.

  Neil popped over so we could review the results. I gestured at a hologram that slowly rotated in the air.

  “Well, you’re right. It’s not fusion-based. But it’s definitely the power-generation facility.” I looked at Neil and grinned. “We may have just found some new tech!”

  “Cool,” Neil replied. “We should call Bill, I guess.”

  “Are you kidding me? Just hand it over, and let someone else get all the glory? No friggin’ way.”

  “Aw, jeez, Hersch, I’m getting that bad-idea feeling again.”

  “Again? You’re usually the source.”

  “Me? Since when?”

  I grinned, but didn’t bother to reply. The traditional exchange, as always, made us both feel better. But Neil wasn’t necessarily wrong. I hoped I hadn’t just taken the first steps toward kissing my ass goodbye.

  Death

  Howard

  May 2220

  Omicron2 Eridani

  It was the call I’d been dreading for decades. Dr. Onagi looked out the video window at me. I could see from the background that he was calling from the hospital.

  “There was no warning, Howard. She simply collapsed. We got her admitted, but our efforts were insufficient.”

  I felt my eyes begin to sting, and choked it back ruthlessly. “I appreciate the call, Dr. Onagi, but I’m a little perplexed that it’s you calling me. Shouldn’t her children be doing this?” Well, Howie, maybe. I doubted Rosie would be dialing me up.

  Dr. Onagi looked to the side for a moment. “Uh, well, they very likely would have by now. But per Mrs. Brodeur’s instructions, we placed her body in stasis immediately post-mortem. Her children were livid, and are seeking legal counsel, as far as I know. I got the impression that you figure prominently in that. They may not be talking to you at all.”

  I stared, stunned. Bridget hadn’t given me any indication that she’d changed her mind. I thanked Dr. Onagi for the information and ended the call. I immediately phoned Ms. Benning.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Johansson. I’ve just heard about Mrs. Brodeur. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “She’s been placed in stasis. Dr. Onagi says that was per her instructions. Has something happened?”

  “She changed her will a few months ago. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to discuss this with you, but she specifically instructed me to read you in.” Ms. Benning reached off-screen for a moment. “And, according to eBar, her children have just filed an injunction to force the hospital to remove her body from stasis. This is not unexpected, and we already have countervailing fil
ings in place. There will be a hearing, for which you should make yourself available. I’ll keep you informed.”

  We exchanged a few more bits of information, then she disconnected. I sat back in my beach chair, staring into space. Bridget was dead. I should be a useless puddle on the floor. I had no doubt that I would be soon, but the unexpected news about her turnaround on the replication issue had thrown me for a loop.

  Well, I could make myself useful while I was still in one piece. I’d built scanning equipment from the information Riker and I had gleaned. Time for an inspection.

  * * *

  The hearing was relatively informal, held in the judge’s office rather than the courtroom. Howie, Rosie, and Lianne sat to one side of the room, and Ms. Benning and I at the other. Dr. Onagi, representing the hospital, sat in a more neutral central position.

  Judge Ulrich Katz silently scanned the documents in front of him for a few more moments, then looked up. “Issues with the last wishes of decedents are always difficult, when surviving loved ones—”

  “He’s not a loved one!” Rosie interjected. The judge stared at her silently, and Lianne put a hand on her arm.

  Order being restored, the judge continued, “...when surviving loved ones disagree about the specifics. But this court cannot make assumptions about the decision in advance of the actual trial. Decanting the decedent at this time will effectively give the decision to the plaintiffs, regardless of the outcome; whereas if the decedent is left in stasis, she can still be decanted should the decision go that way. And conversely, allowing scanning before a decision is rendered cannot be reversed. Therefore, I will not grant the injunction to have the body decanted immediately. Dr. Onagi, you will maintain the body in its current state, and you will not allow any other operations to be performed on it, until otherwise ordered by this court.”

  The judge didn’t bang a gavel. I’d been half expecting it. Of course, my experience with court was a hundred years out of date, from the wrong continent, on a different planet, and came mostly from TV anyway.

  I stood up, and looked over at Bridget’s children. The girls were rigid with the effort of not looking my way. Bridget’s son, Howie, glanced at me, and shook his head minutely. I took the hint.

  We let them exit first, then followed. I looked at Ms. Benning and raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to answer, did a small double-take, and smiled.

  “Mr. Johansson, I’ve known intellectually for some time that you are walking around in an artificial body. After all, it’s not only germane to this case, but has also been the subject of much gossip. Especially the nature of your, er, relationship with Mrs. Brodeur.” Ms. Benning blushed slightly. “But I’ve just now consciously realized that I’m not talking to a live, biological human being. I’m impressed at the verisimilitude.”

  I smiled sadly. “Thank you, Ms. Benning. We Bobs have been putting a lot of effort into getting the androids as believable as possible. And to answer the not-quite-unspoken question, there’s no sexual component to my relationship with Mrs. Brodeur. I could have engineered the capability, but I didn’t. I am deeply in love with her, and she loves, or loved, me in a much less intense but still very real way.”

  Ms. Benning nodded. “I have no doubt of your essential humanity, Mr. Johansson. I dealt with you over the transfer of title for the business, remember? Your emotional turmoil was obvious, and very real.”

  We walked in silence for a few moments, before she continued, “While it will be an uphill battle for the plaintiffs, it’s not a slam-dunk by any means for us. But Mrs. Brodeur expected push-back from her children and made some arrangements in advance, including setting up a defense fund that the children wouldn’t be able to block.”

  I nodded silently. Bridget had always been a careful, methodical thinker. Went with the career choice, I guess. She’d have covered all the bases.

  None of which made things any easier. I had Bridget’s permission to replicate her, but I would have to wait for the wheels of justice to slowly grind their way to a conclusion.

  Explorations

  Herschel

  April 2227

  Kuiper belt, Delta Pavonis

  Ants must feel like this.

  The Others’ carrier, which we’d named Hulk-1, was massive. A ten-kilometer-long cylinder, one kilometer in diameter, it dwarfed even our Version-5 Heaven hulls. At the moment, I was slowly drifting down the central access shaft, while roamers painted numbers on each cargo door. I wasn’t just being anal—we’d discovered that we needed to refer to specific locations by something more helpful than grunting and pointing.

  SUDDAR scans had revealed a lot of details about the ship and its contents, but sooner or later we would have to try powering it up. Those massive cargo segment doors wouldn’t be opening manually, never mind the one-hundred-meter-diameter hatches at each end.

  “How’s it going, Herschel?”

  “Fine,” I replied. “Almost done. 864 cargo bays. That number mean anything to you?”

  There was a moment of silence before Neil replied, “It’s 600 base 12. And, come to think of it, the Others image that Bill retrieved had six feeding fingers on each side of its maw.”

  I grinned. “Coincidence? I think not.”

  “Nope. There’s another universal, I think. Your number base will depend on your number of digits. The Pav were base 10.”

  “Are base 10, Neil. They’re not all gone.”

  There was a sigh. ‘Yeah…”

  Well, there was a mood killer. “Anyway,” I said, perhaps too brightly, “As soon as I’m done here, we can get onto the job of figuring out the power system. I’m anxious to see what some of the stuff in those bays actually is.”

  “As long as we don’t activate some of the stuff in the process.”

  “Yeah, I hear ya. Maybe we’ll have a nuke in place, just in case we need to terminate with prejudice.”

  “I have a concern about that, Herschel. I’d rather avoid any action that results in destroying Hulk-1.”

  “Well, um…hold on.” I took a moment to load my roamers and the attendant drones, and admire the last numbered bay: 864. “I don’t see how we can do this without some risk, buddy.”

  “How about we cut into one of the bays?”

  Well, that was certainly an option. The bay partitions were stupid thick, but we weren’t on a schedule.

  “Okay. Let’s do that.”

  * * *

  We cut into bay #1, simply because SUDDAR scans showed a lot of unidentifiable stuff in it. The roamers had to cut trenches in the wall, and keep widening them. But eventually, they were able to pull a plug of metal away from the surrounding wall.

  We left it floating in the central corridor, and sent in a half-dozen roamers.

  It looked like this carrier hadn’t disgorged all its fighting units before we’d taken it out. The bay contained several dozen drones, each slightly bigger than a Heaven-1 vessel. They were in cradles, with umbilicals connecting them to the ship. Probably control and power feeds. Of course, there was no power, and we’d taken out the ship AI, so no control.

  Neil poked a finger at a close-up image of an umbilical connection. “If we unhook that, do you think the drone will come to life?”

  “Don’t know, Neil.” I rubbed my forehead—a delaying tactic, and we both knew it. “Ultimately, do we really have an alternative?”

  Neil stared at the video window for a full two seconds, before turning to me. “Okay, how about this—take one apart, piece by piece. Analyze as we go. Eventually, we should be able to figure out what their readiness state is.”

  “That is the least-bad idea I’ve ever heard.” I grinned back at him. “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  It took more than a week to strip the drone down, piece by piece. In the end, we were forced to conclude that activation was probably done from the carrier AI’s end, not at the drone’s end. In any case, the one we’d disassembled had been inert. No power, and no way to power up without power.


  Just the same, paranoia was the watchword. We picked a random drone, and placed roamers inside it, ready to begin breaking things if the drone got uppity.

  “Ready?” I said to Neil.

  “Ready!” he replied.

  Neil was in charge of destruction, and I was in charge of unplugging. Without giving myself any more opportunity for second-guessing, I instructed the roamer to eject the umbilical from the drone.

  We waited…5 seconds…10 seconds…

  “Enough of this,” Neil grumbled. “It’s scanning time.” Matching actions to words, he instructed one of our drones to give the subject a good once-over.

  The scan came up in my holotank within milliseconds.

  “Nothing. Inert.” I looked at Neil. “Satisfied?”

  “Me? Since when am I the bad guy?”

  “Since always. I’m always reassuring you.”

  “Oh, bite me. You are so full of it.” Neil shook his head in sorrow. “So, next question. Do we cut into every cargo bay with something in it and start unhooking stuff?”

  “That’ll take years. What’s our alternative?”

  “I’m starting to like the nuke idea.” Neil gave me a crooked grin.

  “Okay,” I replied. “We’re going to have to trace all the wiring, to find out if we can leave the bays unpowered if we start up the reactor. And, sorry to say, we’re also going to have to place a nuke in here in case we wake something up that we shouldn’t have. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Neil sighed. “This is beginning to sound too much like real work.”

  * * *

  ‘Real work’ described it very well. Some of the Others’ design decisions were, well, suboptimal. At least as far as we could tell. In several cases, power conduits split, went around a large patch of nothing in particular, then reconnected on the far side. We scanned the section of nothing twice, but found, um, nothing.