For We Are Many (Bobiverse, #2)

by Dennis E. Taylor

John Cleese

“Fine with me. That hurt my throat. Anyway, Arnold likes how we can defend the two access paths instead of the entire boundary.” Camelot was a located on a small mesa that was surrounded by scree and cliffs most of the way around. It reminded me a little of an aircraft carrier, including a rocky bluff in the center resembling a carrier’s control island. Two paths, about 120 degrees apart, were the only ways on or off the mesa, unless you could fly. It was a huge improvement over their old village, which had been just a clearing in the forest. Guarding against gorilloid attacks had been a full-time job at the old village, and they’d still been losing the battle.

Which raised the question of what exactly was creating the oxygen. On Earth, that would be green plants. But plants, not to put too fine a point on it, tended to require dirt. Excuse me, soil.

Almost immediately, a couple of young toughs tried to push him around to establish dominance. His response was slow and tentative, but it was a completely new concept and his opponents didn’t even recognize the danger until they were on their butts looking up at him. After that, Archimedes strutted around the village like he owned the place. Marvin laughed, watching all the antics. “I’m sure there’s some element of vengeance in there. Getting back at all the childhood bullies by proxy, perchance?” “Y’know, Marvin, this habit of yours of analyzing my motives is a real pain in the ass. Especially since they were your childhood tormenters, too.”

Homer popped in a few milliseconds later. “Number Two, I am forced to admit I’m coming up blank. These clowns trump anything I could possibly say, just by existing.” “Yup. Just when you think humanity has found the limits of stupid, they go and ratchet up the standard by another notch.” I shook my head. “We’re going to have to modify our schedules to replace the calories that the cattle would have supplied. Got any ideas?” Homer bobbed his head back and forth. “Could be. It’s just possible that I’ve been under-reporting production a bit, to establish a small surplus. I suppose now would be a good time to notice the error with a gasp of relief.” He grinned at me, and I smiled back. Homer was full of surprises.

Hmm, and keeping up the FAITH tradition of bad acronyms, too.

“One of them suggested a name of one of the dwarves, then it became kind of a thing. Before they could grow some collective sense, they’d all taken dwarf names.” Bill chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hungry? So, fifty dwarves?” I laughed in response. “Ah, yep. Half a century later, we’re all still working from the same material.”

“No one more than Riker.” I grinned. “I have to admit it’s been a pretty popular program in BobNet.” Butterworth grimaced. “BobNet. Seven billion people on Earth in the early twenty-first century, and FAITH decided to replicate a nerd-slash-engineer with a Star Trek fixation.” He grinned at me to take the sting out of the comment and reached for the disconnect button. “Until tomorrow, then…”

Fifteen hundred ships, or fifteen hundred trips. The inexorable logic of mathematics mocked me.

Archimedes was oblivious. He was too busy teaching his cub basic skills. The cub took the vines and, tongue sticking out of a corner of his mouth, tied a perfect granny knot. Archimedes sighed and corrected it into a square knot. The cub smiled up at his father and I experienced a jolt of—well, something. Pride? Envy? Wistfulness? Maybe all of the above. It was hard to sort out. My eyes were watering, and I had to suppress a strong urge to re-watch one of the recordings of Riker’s chats with our family.

shell powered by plastics instead of gunpowder. A primer triggered by an electrical current would remove the need for a hammer. Using ethylene glycol as the binder would result in a compound that was usable under all environmental conditions, including extreme cold. And the stuff didn’t become unstable with age. Oh, and it was easier to work with safely than gunpowder.

Then, it was over. As Riker hung up the call, I sat back to bask in the peculiar mix of joy, wistfulness, and melancholy that seeing our family always left me with. I had talked with a few other Bobs about it—it seemed to be a common reaction. I guess Original Bob wasn’t as much of a loner as he’d always claimed.

“Dr. Sheehy? This is Howard Johansson, returning your call.” Her disembodied voice drifted back to the phone. “Oh, thanks for getting back to me. Colonel Butterworth wanted me to call you if we had news. We have news.” I waited for a moment. “And…” She returned and grinned into the video. “Sorry. I love the drama. Anyway, we have a possible treatment for the vine.” “Which is…” Honestly, Sheehy, keep this up and I’ll drop a rock on you. “Bunnies.” “I’m going to drop a rock on you.” Dr. Sheehy laughed. I couldn’t help noticing that she had a great laugh. Also freckles, dimples when she laughed… I mentally slapped myself. This could go exactly nowhere.

After a few more milliseconds, Homer gasped and opened his eyes. “I was hagridden. The bastards had total control of me. They made me lie to you; they made me blow things up. They made me kill people!” Homer began to cry, a hopeless moaning alternating with racking sobs. “I couldn’t do anything. I could only watch myself follow their orders. I couldn’t tell you, I couldn’t stop myself, I couldn’t even kill myself!” Bill popped into VR. “I’ve been lurking since I got your report. This is unforgivable. I know we don’t like violence, but if you feel the need to end the bastards that did this, no one will say boo.” He sat on the floor beside Homer and put a hand on his back, simply maintaining human contact. I looked at Charles and Ralph. The expression on their faces said all that was needed. Someone was going to pay.

“Caťaoireaca.” She downed the glass in one motion.

“Caťaoireaca. It’s Irish for chairs.”

had also loaded Elmer’s backup into one of the new vessels. His first words were the standard Pacino-ism. I could sympathize, I guess. Like Tom Cruise, you keep going back in until you win.

Thor stepped up. “Okay, we’re positive that it’s some extremely high-energy electromagnetic beam in the gamma-ray range. It has incredible penetrative power, and would be immediately fatal to biological life. I have no doubt that’s what they use to kill planetary ecosystems. They probably employ multiple devices for full coverage.” Thor called up a particle diagram. “Damage to electronics comes not from the gamma radiation per se, but from the secondary ionization induced in the structure. My proposed solution is two layers of depleted uranium alternating with two layers of electrostatic shielding to take out the charged particles. This, on top of some extra hardening of our electronics, should allow us to survive a zapping.” “You first!” came a shout from the back of the room.

“Bicycle Built for Two.”

idea, Marv. I was working on something else when Guppy alerted me. I’ll review the surveillance when I have time, but right now I just need to keep Archimedes safe.” Marvin nodded, and took over control of a couple of busters just in case. We waited, tense. Archimedes and Buster

“You flatter yourself. This isn’t a duel of words. You aren’t important enough. I’m satisfying my curiosity, nothing more.” I carefully kept my face neutral. I didn’t want to give this guy any satisfaction. “And on that subject, this whole VEHEMENT thing seems more like a vehicle for you than a cause. People like you aren’t joiners, unless you think the organization can benefit you. So what’s your ultimate goal?” A flash of anger crossed Vickers’ face. “If you must know, replicant, I’m your maker. I invented the replicant systems that you inhabit. The systems that FAITH stole without as much as a nod. You don’t deserve to exist, you shouldn’t be alive. VEHEMENT is a suitable tool for achieving that goal.”

Garfield gazed into space for a few moments. “I wonder if we’re missing the big picture. Take this to its logical conclusion and we could replace our HEAVEN hulls with bodies.” “Like mechanical versions of van Vogt’s Silkies?” That was a mind-boggling thought. “Yeah, like that. Bill, we may be the beginning of a new species. Homo siderea.”

“Ma minette!”

“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 didn’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.

No intelligence. Thank God. But the ecosystem was as rich and varied as anything in Earth’s history. This was a planet with everything stacked in its favor. The right size, the right distance from a sun with good solar output but relatively low UV, good-sized moons, plate tectonics active enough to ensure consistent surface recycling—the list went on and on. This was an ideal colony target, except for the part where it was on the Others’ front porch.

“There’s also relativistic ramming,” another voice interjected. I shook my head. “We thought about that. It would have to be busters, or something that could be directed. And even so, you’d have to launch weeks before the encounter, and you’d have to plan it to intercept the enemy at the right place and the right time. Chances of getting it right are too low. Plus they’ll see the approach from a light-hour out with SUDDAR and they just have to dodge. The busters would have a ridiculous tau and wouldn’t be able to react quickly enough. If we forget about relativistic speeds and just stick to our normal ramming, they won’t even feel it. Or they’ll just zap ship-busters a couple dozen at a time with those big zappers.”

Robert’s Rules of Order

It’s the sacred duty of every parent to drive their kids crazy. Especially when they become grandparents. I grinned at the thought of my mother and father as grandparents, doing their best to make Andrea and Alaina insane. Then I had to wipe my eyes as the thought brought back a cascade of family memories. A quick frame-jack allowed me to get it together without missing anything.

“I’m so sorry, Bridget. How’s he taking it?” “He’s mostly not lucid any more, Howard. We knew that was coming, and we’ve said our goodbyes.” She blinked back tears as she spoke. Brave words, but the pain behind them shone through. I endured a momentary wave of grief as I realized I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to my friend. I looked at Bridget without saying anything, and she nodded, understanding completely. I tried to say the usual inane words of encouragement. I would have stayed on the line as long as she wanted. But she was tired, physically and emotionally, and she soon begged off.

We stepped into the building, where Bridget was waiting. She smiled, and my heart was almost wrenched out of my chest at the sadness there. She’d been with Stéphane for eighteen years. She stepped up to me and said, “Howard. I’m glad you came. Can I hug you?” “Yes, of course. Manny has full sensory input. It’ll be my first real hug since I, uh…” Died. Wow. Almost a total foot-in-mouth moment. “…since I became a replicant.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged, and I could feel every bit of it, from her head against my cheek, to her breasts against my chest, to her arms around my back.

Howie bombarded me with questions, while the two girls stood behind him and looked on with wide eyes. Turned out Stéphane had told stories about me. I told Howie a few stories about his father. As I did, memories of our early days on Vulcan flooded back. Stéphane had always accepted me as just a guy he talked to on the phone a lot. There’d never been any awkwardness, any reserve. It hit me that he was the best friend I’d had since well before I died. I scheduled a good cry for later, when I was alone.

timespan of months.” “So Manny will be a little more human next time I see you?” “Actually, Manny will look like Original Bob, from what I’m told. Believable hair and skin, and so forth. And he’ll be able to eat. Although he won’t—uh, never mind.” TMI. She really didn’t need to know the ultimate fate of the meal. Bridget laughed. She knew exactly where my mind had gone. Just one of many things I loved about her. “So we can finally have dinner together?” I smiled and nodded. Finally, a real date.

“Camelot is so big, now,” he continued, “and Caerleon is growing as well. Even with the tension between us and them, a certain number of people still move back and forth. It’s not like there are rules about it.” He gave me a sideways glance and a knowing grin. I pantomimed silent laughter at him. Archimedes and I had talked about many things over the decades. I think he now understood that I wasn’t some kind of supernatural being, just someone with more knowledge than him.

I noted that Diana was looking old and frail. It confirmed my feeling that Archimedes was aging more slowly than average. Probably the same gene responsible for his increased intelligence was affecting his lifespan. I felt a moment of relief that she might be gone soon, then a spike of shame at the thought. I might not like her, but she was Archimedes’ life mate, and he was my friend. The kids—I realized with a shock that these were Buster’s grandchildren—had started a game of tag while the adults talked, and one of them barreled into me. There was a moment of tense silence, then I laughed and poked the child with a finger. The tension dissolved and Diana passed around some jerky. Just family.

imagine, somewhere in one of the death asteroids, some Others general was screaming invective at his subordinates while veins pulsed on his neck and forehead. Or some equivalent. In any case, the Others apparently decided to finally take us seriously. A massive series of SUDDAR pings emanated from their fleet, swamping our receivers. The transmission power was truly incredible, and my jaw dropped at the readings. I looked at one of the other Bobs. The sheer power behind that broadcast said, better than anything else they’d done, that we were

When it was done, everyone but Archimedes stepped back. He slowly sank to his knees, leaned forward, and hugged himself. Uttering a low keening, Archimedes rocked slowly back and forth. I popped into VR, shaking and taking deep breaths. Charlie would be fine for a few moments on autonomous control, and I was very close to losing it. I rubbed my eyes savagely, muttered a few curses, then popped back into Charlie. The crowd was slowly dispersing, leaving Archimedes and his children to their mourning. I took the opportunity to look Archimedes over. I had only an estimate of his age from when I first showed up, of course, but I put him at about seventy, which put him slightly older than Moses when he passed away. And Moses had been considered ancient. All of which meant that I would probably be attending another funeral soon. I vowed it would be my last.