For We Are Many (Bobiverse #2)

I grinned to the crowd. “Just keeping you on your toes. So, announcements first. I’m sure you’ve heard about Linus and Henry Roberts. Well, Henry is feeling ready to mingle today, so Linus is going to bring him over. Try to be polite, okay?”


People responded with catcalls and witticisms while I sent a quick ping to Linus. A moment later, he popped into the moot, with Henry beside him.

The effect was immediate, total silence, as every Bob in the room stared. I grinned at the sight. I knew the feeling from my first meeting with Henry. We could all tell each other apart because of metadata tags, but other than some variations on facial hair, we’d all kept the original features. This was a different face. A non-Bob face.

Henry looked around. “Well, this is awkward.”

It was the right thing to say. Everyone laughed, then stepped forward to say hello. I was worried for a moment that Henry would get a panic attack, but he held up.

I gave it a few milliseconds, then brought everyone back to order with a short blat from the air-horn.

“The other major item, for those who haven’t already heard, is that the second 82 Eridani Expedition, with Loki leading, has shipped out. We are on our way to kick some Medeiros butt.”

When the cheering had died down, I continued. “And the last item is to remind you about the regular Scrub baseball games. Come one, come all. You all know why I’m doing this. It’s up to you whether you want to participate.”

I turned and glared at Garfield. “And for the anonymous troll who put a call for a hockey league on today’s agenda, No!”

Garfield grinned back at me as the crowd broke up in laughter.





35. Sales Call

Howard

September 2192

Vulcan

Bridget and I watched as Butterworth took a careful sip. He held the glass away from his face and looked at it. Damn, he had one of the best poker faces I’d ever seen. And possibly a cast-iron throat. He might as well have been drinking water for all the reaction he showed.

“Well?” Bridget leaned forward. I took a second to grin at her impatience. For me, this was an interesting project, and a chance to do a favor for the colonel. For Bridget, this was an actual potential source of extra income. We Bobs might not have a use for capitalism, but in the human realm, money still made the world go around.

Butterworth glanced at Bridget and then looked at me in the video screen. “It’s actually not bad. It’s definitely Irish whiskey. And since the Jameson has run out, I’ve been feeling the lack.”

“So this would be a saleable item?” Bridget hovered like a dog waiting for a treat.

“Absolutely. You know we’ve already got several beer manufacturers and a couple of small wineries going. This is the first hard liquor, though, that doesn’t qualify as a public hazard.”

Bridget turned towards my image on the tablet and grinned. Looked like we were in business.

Butterworth waved the empty glass. “If I wasn’t in a position where it would create a perceived conflict, I’d suggest partnering up. However, I guess I will have to settle for being a customer.”

Bridget took the hint and refilled his glass, then hers. I popped up a cognac and raised it in a toast.

*

Bridget started to laugh with her mouth full, then had to grab a napkin. We were having dinner at The Shaded Green, one of the better restaurants in Landing. Okay, one of the only restaurants in Landing. And by we, I mean her. I was looking out through her tablet, which was propped up on the other end of the table. I’d set up a matching virtual meal of my own. Not bad, actually. Turned out I could cook.

“So Cranston out-and-out forbade you to sell liquor into FAITH territory?” She rolled her eyes, and put down the napkin.

“Yep. It seems the ultra-religious don’t approve of strong drink. Who knew?”

“So we have to write off that entire market?”

I gave her a disbelieving look. “Of course not. We just have to find a local distributor. Prohibition has never worked, anywhere.” I grinned. “And strangely, there’s always demand.”

“How’s the potato crop coming along?” Bridget took a bite of her bronto steak and leaned forward on her elbows.

“Well, I’ve been growing potatoes for more than a year now.” I waved a hand dismissively. “This crop is only different in that it’s not part of the commons. And it’s going fine. We’ll have vodka for sale within six months.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a bad influence.” Bridget laughed. “Now I’m a liquor baron. Baroness.”

I raised my glass to her. In honor of the occasion, I was drinking virtual whiskey instead of cognac. “Here’s to us, kid.”

Bridget raised her own glass and drank. She put it down and said, “So you never answered my question.”

“Which?”

“Is this a business dinner or a date?”

“Yes.”

She smiled back at me. Damn, that was some smile.





36. Asteroid Movers

Bill

March 2187

Epsilon Eridani

“I’m feeling pretty smug right now.” I grinned at Garfield. He tried for maybe a millisecond to look unimpressed, but no one was fooled.

Right there in front of us, the asteroid mover was altering the approach vector of one of our icebergs. The difference in this case was that no part of the mover was touching the berg. The mover segments were spaced evenly around the center of gravity of the asteroid, held in place by individual SURGE drives. And the assembly as a whole generated another SURGE field that affected the entire asteroid.

The interactions were complex, and we’d had a few experimental failures. But this one had passed all tests, and today was the first live field trial. Everything was well within specs, and the changing path of the berg was right in the groove.

Finally, Garfield said, “And, done. Shutdown.”

“Excellent. Wait sixty seconds to make sure there’s no drift, then collect the drive segments.”

Garfield nodded to me. A minute later, twenty individual saucer-shaped drive segments left their self-imposed positions around the berg, linked up like a stack of plates, and went to station-keeping relative to Gar and myself.

In the video window, the berg fell neatly into an approach that would skim the atmosphere of Ragnar?k. At the proper moment, a series of explosions would convert it to ice cubes, which would all melt and fall as rain over the next few weeks. Textbook.

I looked down at the large crater on Ragnar?k which served as a permanent reminder of the iceberg that I’d missed. Yep. A lot of energy stored up in a chunk of matter coming in at orbital speeds, and being ice instead of rock hadn’t helped as much as you’d expect. A new sea was slowly forming in the crater, which I had named Bullseye.





37. He’s Gone Riker

August 2176

Sol

“Homer’s gone.” Charles popped into my VR, tears in his eyes.

“Gone where? Left the system?”

“No, gone. Dead. He overloaded his reactor and blew himself up.” Charles had both hands clamped into fists. He couldn’t lift his eyes to look at me.

“How old is his most recent back—”

“He deleted all his backups. Every single one. He left a file for us.” Charles pushed it toward me and turned away.



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