We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Bobiverse Book 1) (23 page)
Read We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Bobiverse Book 1) Online
Authors: Dennis E. Taylor
I sat back in my chair, coffee in hand, and watched the fusion signatures of Luke and Bender as they accelerated out of the Delta Eridani system. Picking destination systems for them had been difficult and contentious. There were a lot of M and K class stars relatively close to this system. The problem with those is that they tended to be small and dim, with comfort zones very close to the star. A couple of the candidates were what you’d call
marginal
, and there was some argument about whether we should even bother with them. In the end, it was up to Luke and Bender. Luke was heading for Kappa Ceti, a G5eV star, just a touch smaller than Sol. Bender had selected Gamma Leporis A, an F6V star, a bit bigger and brighter than Sol. Bender was going to have a long trip—his target was more than 16 light years away. But hey, we’re immortal.
“Report went off to Bill all right?”
[Affirmative. The space station is fully operational. AMI controller is now in charge. The report was handed off for transmission]
I tented my fingers and drummed them together. “Excellent.”
Marvin sat across the desk, nursing a coffee of his own. I watched that for a second, frowned, and asked, “Hey which of us is supplying the VR for your coffee, you or me?”
Marvin rolled his eyes. “Geez, way to break the spell. To answer your question, I am. You’re just supporting the visuals at your end. Crying out loud, we all invented this stuff.”
“Sure, but we’ve also all been hacking away at it and sharing mods. I’d have to really sit down and go over the code to understand what it’s doing nowadays.”
“Hmm,” he said, then changed the subject. “Did you notice with Luke and Bender that they really weren’t carbon copies?”
“Yeah, but I, we, had that discussion with Bill way back about Milo and Mario, remember? Each of us is a bit different. Differences in hardware, quantum effects…”
Marvin waved his hand dismissively. “Invoking quantum effects is just hand-waving. Just means we don’t know. I wonder if, as we get older and accumulate memories, we’re getting too complex for a backup to contain everything. The backup is a digital attempt to save an analog phenomenon. It may simply be too granular.”
I stared into space. “Interesting thought. Y’know, I still have the backup I made you from. Maybe I should use that for the next batch of Bobs and bring them up to date the old fashioned way.”
“Whiskey, with a little sugar and bitters round the lip of the glass?”
I put my hand vertically in front of my nose. “Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk. No, funny boy, verbally.”
Marvin grinned at me, then reached forward and poked one of the video feeds. It expanded to full-size.
Things had settled down in the colony. In all, over forty Deltans had died in the gorilloid attack. Several who were injured but not killed were maimed for life. I’d finally gotten to see how the Deltans handled their dead. They did indeed have a ceremony, and they buried their dead. They also mourned them, every bit as heart-wrenchingly as any human. I’d had to turn away from the video for most of that.
The colony had been cleaned up, and the gorilloid carcasses were gone. Archimedes had found the remains of the buster drone. Not that it would do him much good. All that was really left were the steel caps at either end. Most of the rest of it had been shredded and scattered. But Archimedes had discovered that the two twenty-pound items could be used as a hammer or an anvil. They seemed to be able to take any punishment he threw at them. Well, on a scale of zero to ten for cultural contamination, I’d rate that as a one point five, so screw it.
Arnold kept the axe. No one wanted to try to take it away, and anyway, Arnold was willing to do any chopping that anyone needed. He seemed to enjoy the action, he was very good at it, and the requestor didn’t have to do any work. Very much a win-win.
We’d done enough language analysis that we could now follow conversations, and maybe even speak intelligibly. I massaged the phonemes in my speech routine to produce a generic Deltan voice and tried the result on Marvin with a couple of phrases. He approved of the result. I did some design changes to the exploration drone to add a speaker system and sent an order to the autofactory to build a couple. If the Deltans didn’t decide to head back to the flint site on their own, I was prepared to prompt them directly. If that meant being the great sky god, so be it.
It took fourteen and a half years to get to Epsilon Indi. Funny, I still sort of thought in terms of human time-scales, so there was this feeling that I’d just used up a major part of my life. Of course, intellectually, that wasn’t true. First, I’d only experienced a little over three years of personal time thanks to Einstein and time dilation. Second, we’re immortal. I just don’t think we’ve internalized that fact, yet.
I had gone off on my own rather than wait for Bill to build another cohort. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to team up with either of the loonie brothers. I don’t know what the deal was with Calvin and Goku. In theory they’re me, but I’m pretty sure I’m not that obnoxious. Um, I hope. Anyway, for all their constant fighting, they seemed to be connected somehow. And I guess they knew it, since they took off together.
Meanwhile, I was here, at Epsilon Indi—fourteen light years from Epsilon Eridani where Bill was set up, but only eleven light years from Earth. That made it a reasonable if not a prime target for probes. As a K-type star, it was cooler and smaller than Sol, and livable planets would be correspondingly closer to the star and more likely to be tidally locked.
Still, it’s not like there was a ton of choice in the stellar neighborhood. When I’d been a kid, watching Star Trek and Star Wars and Stargate and all the other science fiction shows, it seemed like every planet was M-class and every star was yellow. And everyone spoke English. Sadly, turns out old Sol is exceptional. Most of the stars in the sky are either smaller or stupid big. Which means pretty poor pickings for habitable planets.
I was cautious coming into the system. It was possible that one of the other nations had chosen this system as a destination. Medeiros was a known factor, but we had no idea what the others would be like. We could probably rule out
friendly
, but there was a lot of range between harsh words and firing missiles.
I coasted in, with a couple of scouts ahead of me to scope out the situation. While I waited, I continued to work on my VR. I had decided on domed, floating cities in the atmosphere of Saturn. The rings arched across the sky, and giant clouds bloomed up to incredible heights. Below, breaks in the cloud layers gave line-of-sight for hundreds of kilometers into the depths of the atmosphere. And the cloudscape disappeared gradually into a horizon almost infinitely far away.
I stood in my rooftop garden and looked over the city from my vantage point. Hey, my VR. I can be the rich guy with the penthouse.
[Structures detected]
I looked up. Guppy had appeared out of nowhere with that announcement. I don’t think he approved of my VR for some reason, because he always seemed to be breaking consistency.
“What have we got?”
Guppy pulled up a visual. It was at extreme range for our optical telescope, so all I could really tell was that it was artificial.
[One scout is approaching the structure for a closer investigation]
“Good. When he’s close enough to take a SUDDAR scan, send me the results. Meanwhile, let’s move cautiously.”
[Aye]
***
[We have received a voice transmission from the structure]
That was interesting. I think a message from Medeiros would have been more cylindrical and explodey in nature. “Play it back, please.”
Guppy pulled up the audio file.
“Piss off, mate.”
My eyes opened wide and I choked off a guffaw. “Well, Guppy, I think we’ve found the Australian probe. Which officially didn’t exist, if I remember right.”
I tried to get my grin under control. “Okay, let’s open a channel. Or whatever it is we do to talk.”
At Guppy’s nod, I addressed the structure. “Hi, I guess you are the Australian probe. Pretty sure that isn’t a Chinese accent, anyway. This is Linus Johansson of the FAITH ship Heaven-8. To whom am I speaking?”
“I said rack off!”
“Hmm, nope. I don’t seem to be moving. Want to try again?”
There was a short delay, then, “This is Emperor Mung of the Intergalactic Jalapeno Empire. You’re in sovereign space. Last chance, on ya bike and piss off.”
This guy was either not being serious or he was seriously nuts.
Visuals of the structure were coming in with a little more detail now. It appeared to be a haphazard collection of connected structures and geometrical shapes. Kind of a Salvador Dali on drugs version of NASA’s International Space Station. I wondered if he actually had colonists in there.
“Okay, your highness. Consider me an ambassador from the Bobbian Federation.”
This statement was met with dead silence. However, the conversation—if it could be called that—had given my scouts time to get close enough for a SUDDAR sweep. Guppy popped the scan results up in front of me. No life on board. Not even any
on board
on board, really. The interior was open to vacuum, and a lot of the structures were missing entire walls. There was no logical order to this thing.
He finally broke his silence. “Are you alone? I’m alone.”
Well, he was volunteering information, now. That was good. “I’m here with you, your highness. That’s not alone, right?”
“Who’s your highness? And who are you?”
Uh oh. Whack job. Definitely. Still, that’s better. At least he’s not an emperor any more. Maybe he’s going to become more lucid
. “What’s your name?”
“Henry Roberts. I was selected to represent Australia in the race to populate the stars. I’ve been captured by the Jalapeno Empire, and I’m being tortured for our secrets.”
And we’re back to whack job.
“Guppy, keep doing scans. I want to identify the working parts of the, uh, palace. See if the probe is in there somewhere.”
I turned my attention back to Henry. “Tell me about yourself, Henry. How were you selected?”
There was silence, then a sob. “I’m a sailor. I was a sailor. I used to do solo trips. The government offered me the opportunity because they figured I’d be perfect for the job. I don’t like being around people, you know.”
There was another sob. “I miss sailing. I miss people.”
[I have identified the major probe subsystems. Replicant core, fusion reactor, autofactory systems. The probe is partly disassembled and totally integrated into the structure]
“Thanks, Guppy. Load the rail gun, wouldja? Something appropriate for the reactor control system, if you can target that.”
Again, I addressed the other replicant. “How long have you been here, Henry?”
“Centuries. They’re fish. They won’t let me go. They keep torturing me. They demand attention. They make me build more rooms.”
I remembered back to discussions with Dr. Landers about replicants going psychotic. I wasn’t an expert on the field, being more of an engineering type, but this had a definite flavor of psycho. There certainly wasn’t any “they” around anywhere that I could see.
“Henry, are you able to sail? Do you have a body? Do you see yourself?”
“What? No. I’m a space probe. The government took that away. I can’t feel myself. I miss sailing…”
Wow. Sensory deprivation, for years and years. He probably didn’t have the technical know-how to build a VR. I remembered back to the beginning of the trip outbound from Sol, before I’d constructed the VR. Er, well, before Bob had constructed the VR, I guess. But there’d been that feeling of disconnectedness. Decades of that? No thanks.
“Henry, I could give you that back. There’s a way for you to sail again. You just need to let me help you to—”
“Piss off!”
Damn.
“You’re one of them. This is just another torture session. You’re trying to play with my mind! PISS OFF OR I WILL BLOW YOU TO HELL! RACK OFF RACK OFF RACK OFF RACK OFF RACK OFF RACK OFF RACK OFF—”
My shot took out the reactor control system. The reactor, as it had been designed to do, executed a graceful shutdown. And Henry, as the replicant hardware had been designed to do, went to sleep.
This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. But I wasn’t going to leave the guy like this.
***
Epsilon Indi had a Jovian planet a bit outside the habitable zone, and not much else. I promised myself I’d have a more thorough look around as soon as possible. But first, I had to take care of Henry.
The system didn’t have an overabundance of ore, but fortunately Henry had located the biggest concentrations. I started the autofactory on a space station right away. I wanted to talk to Bill about this, but a conversation with a fourteen-year latency would take forever. I was playing with the idea of flying back to Epsilon Eridani and taking Henry with me.
I did a close-up investigation of the Australian hardware. It was very similar to my own. No, I mean
really
similar. There had obviously been some espionage going on, and someone had borrowed someone else’s design. No way this was coincidence.
I carefully extracted the replicant core from the palace. I set the autofactory to building a proper cradle, power supply, and extra memory. Once I was sure that I had Henry out and safe, I began breaking down the palace for material. I felt a little guilty, like I was stealing or something, but Henry really wasn’t using all this. And it saved time.
Henry didn’t have the knowledge to put together VR, but I did. I could piggyback him on my system. And he might still be salvageable.
***
I stood for a moment behind Henry and breathed the brisk, salty air. The
Contessa
cut through the chop with a bounce and roll that I found alarming, but that Henry had reassured me was normal. He had known his vessel down to the last bolt and screw when he was alive, so it had been simple to reconstruct in VR.
The South Pacific stretched out to the horizon in all directions. A steady wind to the northwest promised an easy, undemanding day of sailing. Or so the books all said. I was still figuring it out.
Henry turned from the wheel to face me. “Hello, Linus. Come for another round of butting into my life?”
I grinned at him in response. Henry was lucid nowadays, but believed himself to be back on Earth. His memories of the years as a replicant still came back to him as nightmares. I’d made his VR as realistic as possible, which included eating, sleeping, and, um, bodily functions.
“I had that dream again, Linus.” Henry shuddered a little. “The nightmare where I couldn’t feel myself. Where all around me, things talked at me and demanded my attention, wanting me to build something. Where the world was just an endless scroll of night…”
I sat down. “But it’s getting weaker, right? Less intense?”
Henry nodded.
“Good. Now, tell me about when the government came to you to offer you the chance to be the space probe replicant…”
