All These Worlds (Bobiverse Book 3)

by Dennis E. Taylor

  “So, the takeaway,” I said, looking up at the dome overhead, “is that the evil, evil replicant is defunct and everyone should be good little citizens and come back to the mats. Or else.”

  “And if we don’t, they’ll start shooting down cities in twenty-four hours.” Kal shook his head in exaggerated disbelief. “We’re at war now, even if the word hasn’t actually been used. Blowing Marcus up can’t really be misinterpreted.”

  “I suppose they could take the stance that I’m not alive, therefore it was just a case of obsoleting some recalcitrant equipment.” I gave my friends a lopsided grin. “And the thing with those cities could be called a ‘police action’.”

  Gina rolled her eyes at me, mocking my favorite expression. “Or they were just tired of listening to you talk. Now are you willing to start fighting?”

  I shook my head. “I still don’t know where all their assets are. I want to take everything out cleanly in one strike. And I don’t want to have to kill anyone.”

  “Good luck with that,” Kal muttered.

  We spent the next few hours monitoring developments. Things seemed to have settled into a stalemate, with the Council making threats and the cities daring them to try, or simply remaining silent.

  Then, more trouble.

  Two ships came out of sunward and launched missiles at Amhor. My assets were all space-side, shadowing or searching for council assets, so I had nothing for defense. The city, though, had those undocumented features…

  Particle-weapon turrets, courtesy of Bill’s Skunk Works, activated immediately and attempted to shoot the missiles out of the sky. The attackers responded by firing more missiles.

  “I’m impressed,” I said. “The basic cargo-ship design doesn’t have a lot of room for weapons storage and launchers. I’d be interested in seeing how—”

  “Chrissake, Marcus, we’re in danger here. Could you dial it back?”

  I gave Kal a rueful smile by way of apology, then turned back to watch the drama.

  The ships seemed to have emptied themselves of missiles, and our defensive batteries had taken out the first two missiles. The second pair were getting too close for comfort, though. And seemed to have figured out the defensive patterns, as they were evading all attempts to shoot them out of the sky.

  With a flash of inspiration, I took control of a couple of flyers sitting in the docking bay. I sent them toward the missiles at full acceleration. Flyers were not military vehicles or flying explosives, so they really had no chance of catching or even intercepting an approaching missile. But they did have the effect of splitting the attention of the missile AMIs. It was just enough to slow down the dodging, and the defensive turrets blew both missiles out of the air.

  The ships, now apparently unarmed, turned and flew off. I called a couple of drones from orbit to shadow them. If they flew back to a base somewhere to reload, I’d have a target.

  But there was no time to celebrate our victory.

  Kal leaped to his feet and uttered a string of profanities. Then he turned to look at the rest of us, and said, “The bastards shot down Thark.”

  There were gasps and cries of shock, but not surprise. Thark and Amhor were the residences of what we somewhat ironically called the Revolutionary Council. We’d published disinformation, but somehow the Council had seen through it.

  Regardless, the Council had just upped the ante.

  Gina asked, “Survivors?”

  Kal looked at his phone for several seconds, his eyes moving back and forth. I noticed that several other people were poking their tablets furiously.

  “Escape pods were observed ejecting, before it hit water. But I’d bet not everyone got out.”

  Gina glared at me. “Now we’re at war. They’re trying to hit us everywhere at once, to end it before we can react. It’s not going to stop until they think they’ve won. It will just continue to escalate, and more and more people will die. Now, Marcus.”

  I sighed and nodded my head. Without a word, I deactivated my android and returned to VR. A quick status check at computer speeds showed that I had busters trailing all Council ships that we’d been able to locate. I ordered all busters to attack, concentrating on taking out the reactor or drive systems.

  The subject of cloaking technology hadn’t really come up in conversation with the Council, so the ships were caught flat-footed. All clean shots, there should be no deaths unless someone was standing right by the reactor at the wrong time. Escape pods ejected from all of them.

  None of which would help with the Council. For that, I activated phase 2.

  The ouncil had set up security at strategic locations such as power stations and flyer depots, as well as roving patrols to ensure citizens stayed put and obeyed curfews. I gave the command, and cargo drones dropped off squads of roamers throughout the Northern and Southern mats. I’d learned the utility of roamers as foot soldiers, almost a hundred years ago in New Handeltown. This time, I had more than just the twenty-centimeter models available.

  All over the towns and industrial sections, Council security forces found themselves set upon by roamers, from the one-inch models that would try to crawl down your pants, right up to the two-meter heavy-lifting models—every single one armed with plasma cutters, pliers, and a total lack of fear.

  Within ten minutes, I got the all-clear from Gina, who was coordinating with local resistance. I pulled up a video window. “Have you located the Council members yet?”

  Gina shook her head. “No, as we expected, their published locations were all bogus. Chances are their movement history is at least partly fiction, as well. We’re analyzing on the basis of defensibility and obscurity.”

  I nodded. “My money is still on subs.”

  Gina snorted. “If so, they can stay out there all they want. I’m not going to risk an encounter with a kraken or hydra just to capture those turds.”

  “Maybe the wildlife will take care of it for us.”

  Kal popped up in another call window, joining the conference. “We’ve got control of the comms center. Want me to send out an all-points?”

  “Do it.” I nodded. “And see if you can get an update on Thark.”

  “Already done. We’ve pulled about half the population out of the drink,” Kal responded. “Still scanning for more pods. At the moment, there are about a hundred and fifty people missing.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling nauseated. We’d admitted the possibility of casualties, but the reality—even a potential reality, at the moment—was so much harder to take.

  “Okay, Kal. Keep me updated.”

  When I had time, I would have to do some soul-searching. Between the Poseidon revolution, the Sol System War, and the overthrow of New Jerusalem, my various incarnations seemed to always be in the thick of things.

  How many deaths was I answerable for?

  Repairs

  Herschel

  July 2227

  Delta Pavonis

  There’s no real reason for your Virtual Reality self to be tense. I knew that. It didn’t help. I found myself gritting my teeth so hard that my jaw began to ache.

  After months of investigation and tinkering, Neil and I were ready to try activating the power core. We had the nuclear deterrent sitting in the middle of the central corridor, just in case. But truthfully, neither of us really thought it would be necessary. The wiring had eventually succumbed to our detective work, and we were confident that we would be able to power up the core without powering up the bays.

  Which still left the question of activating the power core. Since we’d never seen this particular technology before, there was a lot of guesswork involved. Needless to say, guesswork and power cores did not go well together.

  We weren’t total idiots—we were standing off more than a thousand klicks, while the roamers and drones ran through the final steps. I idly wondered, for a moment, if the AMIs ever got tired of wearing the red shirts. Probably not, or they’d have gone on strike by now.

  “If this doesn’
t work, we’re going to be in deep doo-doo.” Neil glanced sideways at me.

  “Better than being a cloud of ionized gas. And even if it does work, there are going to be questions, Neil. We really should have announced the find on the first day.”

  “You. But. I…” Neil glared at me, one side of his mouth up in a sneer of disbelief. “I hate you.”

  I grinned at him. “Okay, joking aside, buddy. We’re eighth-generation Bobs. Pondscum. Star Trek security looks down their noses at us. I’d like to have something under my belt that I can stamp on my hull.”

  Neil took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Yeah. If everything goes well, all will be forgiven.”

  “So…”

  “Scanning started,” Neil responded, taking the hint. “We have an image. Okay, Herschel, any time.”

  I gave the order, and the roamers started the activation procedure in Hulk-1. It took almost three minutes for the alien equipment to go through whatever startup sequence it needed. We could review the whole thing later via the recorded SUDDAR video.

  And finally, pay dirt. Lights came on in the alien craft. Readings indicated rising power levels in engineering subsystems. We’d been careful to ensure that most of the vessel remained unpowered. We certainly didn’t want to activate a security system somewhere.

  The roamers ran a few output tests, and reported the results. I whistled. “That’s just a stupid level of power generation. Assuming it’s linear.”

  “Remember that scene in Forbidden Planet with the power meters?” Neil grinned at me. “This is just like that. We’re barely tilting the first meter.”

  I nodded, eyes unfocussed. “I, uh, think it might be time to pay Bill a visit.”

  * * *

  “Well, there are no laws in the Bobiverse, of course…” Bill’s expression belied the casualness of his tone. Neil and I looked at each other nervously.

  “But you guys are still morons.” Bill raised his hands in an I give up gesture. “If something had gone wrong and taken you out, we’d never have known about it.”

  “We’ve been doing backups, Bill…”

  “And how would we know to activate your backup? ESP?”

  “Oh…” Yeah, there’s that. I looked down at my shoes.

  Bill relented a little, seeing my expression. “Actually, Herschel, that’s another project I’m working on. The battle of Delta Pavonis made it clear that we need a more organized backup system.”

  He waved us toward chairs and called in Jeeves. It looked like we wouldn’t be flayed, after all.

  “Okay, fill me in.”

  I sat down and accepted a coffee. I took a moment for a sip, to give me time to calm my nerves. Then I called up the diagrams and schematics, as well as video records. “You already know the basics. We found the hulks, got the power system working in one of them. The power core is not fusion-based. I’d almost swear it uses some variation on the Casimir Effect. There’s a separate analysis on that.”

  I pushed one set of schematics aside, to bring up a larger-scale diagram. “Hulk-2 is scrap. We’ve been through it from one end to the other, and there’s nothing interesting. It’s basically a big ol’ pile of salvage. We’ve had our devices breaking it down into transportable chunks for a couple of months now. But here’s the thing…” I paused for effect. “Hulk-1 is a big, sort-of-hollow container with built-in power. The A.I. and drive systems are gone, of course, but so what?” I grinned at Bill.

  Bill frowned, and I realized he hadn’t gotten it yet. I looked at Neil, suddenly uncertain. Had we missed something obvious? Were we about to paint ourselves as total twits?

  Neil rolled his eyes, just the tiniest amount, then turned to Bill. “Put a set of mover plates around it, Bill, and it’s the biggest damn colony ship ever made. It just needs stasis pods.”

  Bill’s eyes slowly grew wide as the penny dropped. “Holy—”

  I grinned, confidence returning. “And you could move the entire remaining Earth population in one trip!”

  Payback

  Bob

  April 2224

  Eden

  Caerleon was a busy area—almost frantic. Maybe it was the age of the residents, and the relative lack of family groups. Caerleon had been colonized by juveniles just into puberty and going through the adolescent rebellion stage. Marvin and I agreed that we’d created a baby boomer generation when we moved everyone to Camelot and the birth rate subsequently surged. All those teenagers, getting hormonal at the same time, had probably just egged each other on.

  At any rate, it made sneaking up a difficult operation. I had the advantages of lack of scent and ability to stay completely still, of course. Plus some commando camouflage tricks that I looked up in the ship libraries. Still, it took almost five hours to maneuver into position. Original Bob would have been a single giant muscle cramp by that point, but android muscles didn’t get tired.

  And I was now in position. Surveillance had shown that Fred had a preferred location for his bodily functions, and he was very much a creature of habit. I picked a spot where I could take him on the way back, and settled down to wait.

  * * *

  As Fred turned back to the trail, I slammed into him. Shoving him up against a tree, I placed the edge of my flint knife against his throat.

  “Hello, Fred. Remember our last conversation?”

  Fred’s eyes were wide with fear, and he made no attempt to struggle.

  “I own you right now, kuzzi.” I practically spit his favorite insult back in his face. “Whether you live to see the sun set today depends on my mood. Understand?”

  Fred understood. The odor of fear emanated from him. But he apparently wasn’t going to just fold. “My friends won’t let this go,” he said. “They’ll come after you.”

  And he was right. This was something I’d worried about, but had hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with. If he didn’t capitulate in some manner, I might actually end up having to kill him. Could I do that in cold blood? If he just dug in his heels and called my bluff, I’d have to either follow through or lose any credibility.

  On the other hand, if I’d come with Donald, Fred would already be dead.

  It was so tempting. But even after being embedded in Deltan civilization for all these years, I still had a 21st century human squeamishness about taking life.

  “What’s your problem, Fred? Can’t hunt on your own? Can’t figure out which end of the spear to use? Or are you just lazy?”

  Fred’s ears went flat and his lips curled back from his teeth in a reaction that, for a Deltan, was an expression of rage. “It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? Sit there with all the resources and yap about how everyone else isn’t living up to your standards? I’m not answerable to you.”

  “Well, right now you kind of are.” I pushed the blade harder against his throat to make the point.

  But Fred was angry now. His reaction, his unexpected rage, surprised me. I’d mishandled this somehow, and now there was no way he was going to back down. Interesting food for thought, but right now it left me between a rock and a hard place.

  With a flash of inspiration, I directed a spy drone to make some suspicious noises, in order to draw over some of the locals. Within moments, Fred and I could both hear his friends approaching and calling for him. He grinned at me in triumph. If his friends found a corpse, the whole village would be after me.

  That was fine. Let him think that. I put my face up close to his. “Just remember that I can find you whenever I want. Next time I won’t discuss it, won’t even let you know I’m there. Maybe you should start hanging around with your friends all the time.”

  With that, I gave him the usual quick jab in the breadbasket, and grabbed his spear as he folded. I vanished into the forest just before his friends came into sight.

  Well, that hadn’t gone quite according to plan. I made my way back to Camelot, still trying to convince myself that I could kill him if I had to.

  * * *

  I told Archimedes the story ove
r dinner. He took Fred’s spear and examined it while I talked.

  “Donald would have just killed him,” he said. “Me, not so much. It’s hard to kill people, unless they’re attacking you.”

  Archimedes maneuvered the spear around until he was looking at the tip. “This is really terrible work. Someone just shattered a nodule, and tied the sharpest shard onto the shaft.” He shook his head. “It’s as likely to fall off as penetrate the target. If this is what they have, I’m not surprised they’re having to steal food from our hunters.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Okay, the android actually pointed its ears forward and down, but it felt to me like the equivalent human expression.

  If the Caerleon citizens were having less hunting success because of equipment failure… Could it be that easy? Perceived inequities like that had started more than one war on Earth. I liked to think Deltans were a little more sensible than humans in general, but not by that much.

  I sat back against the boulder behind me and stared into space, considering the options.

  Looming Storm

  Howard

  May 2220

  Vulcan

  I stood outside the courtroom, taking deep breaths. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to drop a rock on the building. I’d expected nastiness. Ms. Benning had warned me that the children’s strategy would be based on attacks.

  Knowing it and being subjected to it were two different things, though. To listen to their lawyer, I was some weird cross between Rasputin, Svengali, Machiavelli, and Lucifer. They hadn’t quite accused me of drugging and brainwashing Bridget, but they’d sure been trying to imply it.

  Ms. Benning came to stand beside me. “There will be more of the same after recess. Just remember that he’s trying to get a rise out of you, to get you to make a mistake.”

  I smiled slightly. “I have some advantages in that area.” Indeed. During cross-exam, I had enabled the endocrine control system. Funny that the cloning process, even with all the different generations of Heaven vessels, still included that subsystem. With the control on, I was only mildly concerned about Mr. Kistler’s accusations and innuendo.