All These Worlds (Bobiverse #3)

“Status?” I asked.

“Repelled with significant losses. They didn’t expect resistance.”

“They also didn’t expect,” Gina replied, “weapon systems that weren’t on the blueprints.”

I grinned. “My fault. I forgot to file the changes with the Permits department.”

Kal waved his phone. “They’ve made an announcement.”

We all turned to him, eager to hear what the Council had come up with. Kal read through the text, deliberately injecting a pompous tone into the pronouncement. When he was done, we all sat in a semi-circle, ready for a council of war.

“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.”