All These Worlds (Bobiverse Book 3)

by Dennis E. Taylor

  “You, sir, have far too much time on your hands.”

  I nodded, then lost my smile. “Seriously, though, Bridget, this whole thing with the Others—it’s not out of the question that we might end up having to hide human colonies in gas giants, to avoid getting wiped out.”

  “The Bobs are really concerned about this species, aren’t they?” Bridget’s eyes showed her concern.

  “Yeah, Bridge, Delta Pavonis really kicked the stuffing out of us. I feel kind of bad that I’m not more involved in the war effort. I guess this is my contribution.”

  “So we’d be the beta testers.” Bridget sat down at my desk and examined the model more closely.

  “Yep. And of course we can’t really be hurt if things go bad.”

  Bridget poked a finger at the model and turned it this way and that. She examined it in silence for several milliseconds. Then she turned to me. “And a front-row seat to watch Odin life in action. Okay, Howard. You’ve been wanting to get me involved in a printing project. Let’s see what we can do.”

  Foreboding

  Riker

  December 2240

  Sol

  Bill stared into space, slowly twirling the glass of whiskey in his hand. I’d managed to tempt him with a scan of one of the more recent vintages from Vulcan.

  Funny, Vulcan had become the acknowledged expert in alcoholic products, real or VR. Howard’s company—well, the Brodeur family’s company—was even financing construction of some AMI-controlled starships to start trade routes between systems. I privately thought that might be a little premature, but I guess life goes on, even with the threat of an alien menace. In any case, the project gave people something positive to focus on, so what the hell.

  “It’s not bad,” Bill said. “Original Bob would have approved. And he’d have slowly gotten tanked without realizing it. I think this would sneak up on you.”

  I grinned at the image. “Yeah, pretty sure.” I hesitated, and shifted in my chair.

  Bill saw the movement and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so this isn’t just a social call. I sort of assumed, anyway. What’s up, Will?”

  “There’s been no activity from the Others, Bill. Nothing. No sorties, no attacks, no nothing. It smells.”

  “Granted. But how much of that is just us being on edge?”

  “Um. I’m wondering if a quick examination of GL 877 might be in order.” I tried to keep my voice casual, but the expression on Bill’s face showed me I’d pretty much failed.

  “I get it, Will. But we have to balance any knowledge we might gain against the possibility of them capturing some of our tech. They haven’t tried again with the monitor drones in the Oort, but if we sent something in-system…”

  I’d been giving this some serious thought, so Bill’s objection wasn’t really a surprise. And I had my answer ready. “They can’t capture our tech if we don’t send any new tech inbound. I’m suggesting an incursion using only common tech. SURGE, level 1 SUDDAR, so on. No SCUT, no cloaking.”

  Bill’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Okay, how will that work?”

  I popped up some schematics. “We disguise the probes in an asteroid-like coating. It’ll block causal SUDDAR pings, and fool radar and visual inspections. Just another piece of space junk, floating through the system. The units will store their observations for retrieval on the way out, or they’ll transmit everything and self-destruct if they see anything approaching.”

  “They?”

  “As many as we can build. Send them in at all kinds of angles and speeds.”

  Bill stared into space, silent, for several milliseconds. “It does actually sound like a no-downside kind of plan. What the hell, let’s talk to Mario. It’s up to him, in the end, but I bet he’ll go for it.”

  * * *

  “I can do that.” Mario nodded in thought for a moment, then looked at us. “I’ve got autofactories about a quarter-light-year out, ready to pump out more replacement monitor drones if the Others get uppity again. Something like what you describe would be dead easy.” He rubbed his chin. “Little bit of a pain to get everything into position, but we’ve got the time, I guess. If the Others suddenly make an appearance, you’ll have your answer anyway.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Good. And, let’s face it, we might see nothing but more Dyson Sphere construction, but if we find a massive fleet of death asteroids and cargo vessels being prepped, I’d kind of like for it not to be a surprise.”

  Mario grinned at me. “Got it. I’ll get started.”

  Pav Decanting

  Jacques

  July 2256

  HIP 84051

  Residences for twenty thousand Pav. Check. Big honkin’ fence to keep out the native wildlife. Check. Farms, with Pav crops already starting to grow. Check. Pav farm animals, taking first steps on wobbly new legs. Check.

  Okay, this wasn’t half bad. We’d gone a little overboard with the residences. Probably some displaced guilt in operation. But it looked like we were ready.

  Phineas and Ferb sat, holding coffees, waiting for me to open the conversation. For some reason, I found myself reluctant. Up to this point, we’d been able to avoid really dealing with the whole Pav thing. Analyzing their biology was fun and interesting, and building a colony site was just the adult version of Lego.

  But now, we’d be waking up the last twenty thousand members of an all-but-extinct species. And, of course, dealing with their questions, accusations, and our feelings of guilt over the whole Delta Pavonis thing.

  I sighed and put my coffee down on the side-table. “Okay, guys. Enough procrastination.” I gestured to Phineas. “You first.”

  Phineas gave me a crooked grin, acknowledging the awkwardness. “We’ve got everything ready. The site is ready, crops are growing, animals are doing what animals do. We’ve got drones doing most of the maintenance labor, but we’ll either have to step in with androids or start waking Pav, pretty soon.”

  “Right. This colony isn’t going to run itself.” I looked at Ferb. “We’ll be offloading your colonists first. Any issues?”

  Ferb shook his head in reply. “No, I’m completely ready. More than. I want to get heading for Sol as soon as possible. Maybe we can get a load of humans out of there before the Others show up.”

  “Assuming they do.”

  Ferb rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Phineas, grow a brain.”

  Phineas shrugged without further comment.

  “Anyway,” I said, trying to forestall what had become an ongoing argument, “You’ll be able to unload all your colonists. Three days, right?”

  Ferb nodded. “Yeah, we’ll take our time, so we don’t have too many awake-but-helpless Pav sitting around at any time. After the first load, the Pav can explain the situation to each new batch.”

  “Urgh.” I dropped my head into my hand and massaged my forehead for a few moments. “I’m not looking forward to that, either. Even with Hazjiar to help, it’s going to be chaos. Even more than normal Pav chaos.”

  * * *

  We woke Hazjiar and the other seven Pav that Bill and I had originally spoken to. They were calmer this time, possibly helped by the food we’d decanted for the occasion.

  The destruction of the meal complete, Hazjiar looked up in the general direction of the wall monitor. “What now?”

  Phineas, Ferb, and I exchanged glances. “Well, here goes nothing.”

  I replied through the wall monitor. “I’m going to come in person to discuss next steps with you. I want you to be prepared.”

  All eight Pav went into alert posture, heads swiveling in all directions.

  “Is there danger?” Hazjiar asked.

  “No. I just think it’s time we met face to face.”

  I gave the guys a lopsided grin. “I just hope they’re not still hungry.”

  It took only moments to enter the android and go through startup checks. I undraped myself from the support rack and walked to the door. A short walk down the hallway, and I stood outside the room containi
ng the revived Pavs. I took a deep breath, muttered, “Showtime,” and signaled the door to open.

  As I entered the room, the Pav retreated en masse to the far corner. The tableau held for several seconds, a seeming human being at one end, and a pack of six-foot-tall meerkats standing at alert at the other. I’d discussed it with Bill and we’d decided that showing ourselves as alien would be better than trying to pass off a Pav form. Just the same, a certain amount of awkwardness seemed reasonable.

  I glanced at them, but avoided a steady stare, which could be interpreted as aggressive. Instead, I walked to the long table and sat down on the bench.

  “Good day,” I said to the group. “I’m Jacques. Once again, I’m sorry to be meeting you in these circumstances.”

  There was no movement for several seconds, then Hazjiar sidled over and sat on the other side of the table. After a brief silence, she gestured to me. “Why did you not show yourselves, last time?”

  “Um…” There was no reason for Hazjiar to know that I was not flesh and blood. Why complicate things? “We didn’t want to alarm or distract you unnecessarily. It was a spur of the moment decision.”

  She nodded, apparently satisfied. The other seven Pav began to tentatively move toward the table. I ignored them, hoping they would take it as encouragement.

  “What shall we discuss?” Hazjiar asked.

  I carefully avoided smiling. To the Pav, that would be a challenge. “Your new home is ready for you. We have twenty thousand of your people in stasis, and I’d like to discuss plans for awakening them.”

  Hazjiar nodded again, and visibly settled herself more comfortably on her seat. As a City Councilor by profession, administrative considerations were her job, and the familiar ground seemed to reassure her.

  “Very well, Jock, what do we have to work with?”

  * * *

  Hazjiar swept her gaze over the fields, where the first kee crops, a sort of above-ground potato, were just beginning to ripen. We sat on the patio of Hazjiar’s home, while three Pav soldiers fingered their weapons and eyed me suspiciously. I smiled to myself at their expressions and body language, careful not to let it reach the android’s face.

  The Pav were constantly perplexed by our behavior, but seemed willing to put it down to our alien-ness. The military personnel, for instance, had been surprised and suspicious when we simply handed them their weapons after awakening them. They’d checked their ammo, and several had taken test shots. They still seemed to think it was some obscure practical joke, and were bracing for the punch line.

  Hazjiar turned to face me. “What of the Others? Will they still be a threat to us?”

  “We suspect that they are heading for our home, right now. They were angry at our actions in your home system. We’re preparing for them. But you’re pretty far away from their home world, now.”

  “And still you do not seek payment?”

  “It’s not how we work, Hazjiar.”

  “You are Dozhagriyl.” Critters with broken brains.

  I laughed, careful to use the Pav version of humor. “Many of us would agree.”

  “So, why do you do this?”

  I shifted in my chair. “A desire to help, partly. And, I think, feelings of guilt because we were there when the Others arrived and we couldn’t stop them.”

  “The results would have been the same, had you not shown up, would they not?” Hazjiar cocked her head at me in a very human-like expression.

  This was old ground. There seemed to be some concepts on which our species just couldn’t seem to connect.

  “I know, Hazjiar. Our reactions don’t always make complete sense, even to us.”

  Hazjiar laughed. “On that, at least, we are very similar.” She motioned to the fields. “What now?”

  “As I’ve said before, we’ll be as present or as absent as you want. We’ll keep you up to date on what happens with the Others, and help you if you want to go back to Pav. Or even just take a look.”

  Hazjiar shuddered. “I suspect it will be many years before any of us can stomach that. I still have nightmares from the images, the day you first woke us.”

  I nodded, not saying anything.

  “Our people have settled in well. The residences are generous and well designed. The animals of this world have already learned not to bother us.” She eyed me speculatively. “Are there more surprises you may have for me?”

  “No, Hazjiar.” I shook my head before remembering that the Pav expression of negation was a side-to-side wag. I adjusted my movement and Hazjiar laughed. “It is okay, Jock, I am starting to learn your expressions as well.”

  “I appreciate that. And no, I think we’ve got it all covered. You have good mineral deposits within easy distance. You’ll be able to build up an industrial base within a few years. There’s nothing on this planet big enough or mean enough to give you trouble.” I chuckled. “Unlike some of the other planets that we have colonized, you don’t appear to have any flying nasties to worry about. Possibly they haven’t evolved here, yet.”

  “That word again. I know you have explained it to our physicians. There is much argument.” Hazjiar sat silently for a few seconds. “You mean well, but your existence, and even your casual conversation, contains thoughts and ideas that, perhaps, we are not ready for.”

  After a moment, she stood up. “Perhaps our children will be better prepared. Thank you, Jock, for the information. And for everything you’ve done. I will convey this to the Council, and will use the communicator if we need to talk more.”

  It was a dismissal. Well, it could have been a lot worse. At least they weren’t shooting at us on sight. We exchanged the standard Pav head-bob, and I stepped off the porch.

  The cargo drone settled to the ground in front of me, and I noticed the soldiers going into high alert. And why not? For a civilization in which a steam engine was the latest in high-tech, floating spaceships would be beyond explanation or even description. They understood the reality now in principle, but still not right down in their nonexistent boots.

  I climbed into the cargo bay, then turned to face the soldiers. As the doors started to close, I gave them the Vulcan salute.

  Surveillance

  Riker

  November 2248

  Sol

  A ding announced the arrival of an email. I swiveled in my chair and pulled it up in the holotank.

  From Mario. This could be interesting.

  It had been eight years since Mario started on my suggested plan to investigate the Others’ home system. The lead time was inevitable, of course. The drones couldn’t fall through the system at interstellar speeds and go unnoticed. And falling in from the Oort was a slow process, otherwise.

  Oh, Mario had given them a good push. But hopefully not enough to set off alarms.

  I paged through the documents, scanning the headers, then reading interesting items. When I was done, I sent a video chat request to Mario. He popped up right away.

  “Hi, Will. You looked through the stuff?”

  “Yeah, looks like they got suspicious in the end.”

  Mario laughed. “Uh huh, started shooting down every piece of debris they could detect. Including a lot of just plain old rocks. Which is fine with me.”

  “But the stuff you did get…”

  “Right. Construction of the sphere proceeds apace.” Mario thought for a moment. “What was of more interest was the almost complete absence of death asteroids and cargo vessels.”

  “I noticed that, Mario. In fact, the Delta Pavonis expedition would account for every unit we could see.”

  “So either that’s all they’ve ever had…” Mario frowned into the video. “…or everything else is out somewhere.”

  I nodded. “And you’ve got eyes on every system in the area.”

  “Yup. Ain’t no harvesting going on, nohow.”

  I sat back, staring into space. “Thanks, Mario. I think that settles it, at least for me. I’m going to re-check my detection array.”


  Mario nodded and closed the video.

  Yep. No question. Something wicked, et cetera. Bradbury had nothing on this.

  A Space Odyssey

  Bob

  April 2225

  Delta Eridani

  Marvin laughed so hard he was in danger of sliding out of his La-Z-Boy, prompting Spike to leap up and scamper under one of the side tables. I waited patiently for the drama to end.

  “That’s great.” Marvin wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m just sad that the Deltans will never get the reference.”

  “Well, we can explain it to them when we meet. Even show them the movie.”

  “So it’s a strong magnetic anomaly, on the largest moon?”

  “Yep.” I grinned at him. “And a big black monolith in the center. Dimensions one by four by nine. Except this one will have writing on it. Or maybe in it.”

  “You are evil.”

  “I thought about having it play the opening music to 2001, but with no air and all…”

  Marvin laughed again and shook his head.

  * * *

  I strolled through Camelot, enjoying the scents and sights of people at work, at play, cooking meals, or just relaxing. Over at one end of the common area, Archimedes sat with his three apprentices, holding up and slowly rotating a flint nodule while he talked.

  The Caerleon residents had been dubious at first, but a bagful of Archimedes’ best spear-points had silenced all but the most paranoid. In short order, a dozen Deltans had shown up on Archimedes’ doorstep, ready to be trained.

  Two months later, the group had been reduced to these three, the smartest—or at least most determined—of the volunteers. Archimedes admitted to me in private that they didn’t totally suck.

  With the reduction in tension, both Caerleon and Camelot had discovered opportunities for trade. For one, the weird giant-potato-like tubers that the Deltans favored grew in profusion around Caerleon. Small crafts, straightened spear and arrow shafts, even labor for things like building tents ensured a steady growth of commerce.