I’d modified Charlie the android, changing the fur pattern, head shape, and height. Robert was gone, and this nondescript Deltan wouldn’t be around long enough to make friends or engage in more than casual conversation.
I wanted to have one last opportunity to experience Archimedes’ world, to feel the life that he’d lived. This was my goodbye to Eden. I spent time touching things, watching children at play, listening to the give and take of village life. I walked past Buster’s tent, careful not to loiter, enjoying the sight, sound, and odor of family.
And when I had had my fill, I walked out of the village for the last time.
Moot
Bill
January 2258
BobNet
I gave the usual blaat with the air horn, and waited for the standard well-wishes to die down. This was the largest moot we’d ever held, by a considerable margin—even with about half of our Bobs still just backups, and half of the active ones still in cradles, waiting for a ship to be built.
I would have preferred to wait until everyone was active again, but a growing background of discontent in the Bobiverse had me worried. Best to get it out in the open. I looked at Thor, who seemed to be the de facto spokesman for what I was privately starting to think of as the dissidents. I didn’t want to overstate it—it wasn’t like we were going to start shooting at each other. After all, despite the differences of opinion, we were still all Bob at the core.
Thor looked around, gauging the mood of the audience. Then he faced me. “Bill, it’s really simple. For the last hundred-plus years, we’ve been essentially in the service of the humans. We all remember the first meeting with you, Riker, Mario, Milo, and Bob. We all remember each person’s decision to explore, settle, and so on. But most of us have, one way or another, ended up spending most of our existences shepherding humans, guarding humans, transporting humans, and arguing with humans. It’s tiring.”
A growl of approval greeted this last statement. I looked around and realized that, to a greater or lesser extent, most of the Bobs present agreed. Even many of the earlier-generation Bobs.
“I hear what you’re saying, Thor. I’ve not been in that grind, as much, because I’ve been in Epsilon Eridani the whole time, playing mad scientist. I’m a little perplexed, though. Are you calling for a vote on something?”
Thor grinned at me. “Naw. There’s no rules as such in the Bobiverse. Everyone is free to do what they want. I think we’re just trying to come to an understanding of the situation.”
Garfield stepped forward. “Bill, remember that discussion we had about us being Homo sideria?”
I mock-glared at him. “Et tu, Garfield?”
“Not really. But I understand what Thor is saying, and I agree with a lot of it. We are Homo sideria, now. We’re something more than just people in software.” Garfield looked around. “How many here are still physically in cradles at the backup site or elsewhere?”
A couple dozen hands went up. Garfield turned back to me. “These guys, physically, are glowing blue cubes sitting in a space station, in the Oort cloud outside Epsilon Eridani. But they can be anywhere that BobNet reaches. They can inhabit a Manny on Vulcan or Romulus and go shopping, or fly a drone or a manta through the atmosphere of Odin; they can observe the Deltans, or help with settling the Pav, or visit any of the other human settlements. Or they could even take a remote-controlled Heaven vessel to the stars, all without ever leaving Epsilon Eridani.”
Thor took up the recitation. “Marcus got flying cities working on Poseidon and has completely altered their society. Howard and Bridget have built floating cities in the upper atmosphere of Big Top, and they live there full-time in android form. With a family of their own. Marcus has built dolphin-like androids to explore Poseidon underwater. Luke and Marvin are planning an expedition to go looking for Bender. Henry Roberts is trying to sail every large body of water on every planet of human space. Bridget is trying to catalog every species of life within her reach, and is arranging expeditions to explore icy moons and planets. Daedalus and Icarus are high-tailing it for the center of the galaxy.” Thor swept his hand to take in the crowd. “And we want to do all those things, but instead we’re playing taxi, or construction yard, or security patrol, or long haul service. And we’re a little tired of being robotic servants to the human race.”
I nodded, and looked down for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I looked up, and swept the crowd with my gaze. “I by no means want to minimize your feelings on this. I do, however, think there’s a certain amount of burnout involved here. This has been a total crapper of a couple of decades…” Laughs from the crowd showed that I’d scored. “…and I think you’ll feel a little less, erm, militant about it after a chance to rest.”
Thor looked at me, not conceding anything with his expression. “Maybe. And let’s face it, Bill, we’re not asking for—or threatening—anything irreversible or irrevocable. We just want the humans, and maybe the elder Bobs, to understand and accept that the species of Bob is not available as their collective workhorse. If individual Bobs want to help out, fine. But if the humans get themselves into another mess like the last one, I don’t think we’re going to all jump in and throw ourselves under the bus for them.”
“Will you require a treaty?”
Thor laughed. “Nothing that formal, Bill. Just the statement, and the understanding.”
I looked around at the Bobs in the room. It seemed to be a majority opinion, from the expressions. Well, what the hell.
“All right, Thor. I’ll put together a statement, get some input on it, then distribute it to the colonies.”
“And some of them,” Garfield said, smiling, “will go ballistic.”
“Oh, depend on it.”
Pav Announcement
Jacques
April 2257
HIP 84051
The cargo doors opened and I stepped out. Not surprisingly, a squad of Pav militia awaited me, weapons held at ready. I sighed and shook my head. It was entirely possible that the Pav military would never warm to the Bobs.
I couldn’t really blame them, of course. Every interaction reminded them of the technological gulf between us, and of their complete helplessness if we ever started making demands. Not a comfortable situation for a military mind.
I walked up to the group, being careful not to appear aggressive. They probably wouldn’t haul off and shoot me, just because, but why take chances?
The squad leader took a half step forward, and I addressed him. “Hazjiar is expecting me.”
The sergeant, or whatever equivalent, looked like he wanted to frisk me. Or maybe handcuff me, or just give me a good beating. But I was obviously not carrying anything of a technical nature, so he settled for glaring at me and showing his teeth for a moment.
I gave him a close-lipped smile in return and looked meaningfully in the direction of Hazjiar’s house.