Arnold paced back and forth, helping individuals with their technique and yelling encouragement. I chuckled, without letting it play out through the drone. I’d rigged the translator to render his speech with an Austrian accent. It never got old.
“How is it going with the medicine woman?” Archimedes asked, interrupting my train of thought.
I cringed inwardly. One of the surprising things about Deltans was their lack of awe for the divine authority of The Bawbe, and Cruella took that philosophy to new heights. A tribe of primitive humans would have been hanging on to my every word, but Deltans were much more skeptical and inclined to question. My first attempt to introduce them to tents still smarted a little.
“Not so well. She either flat out doesn’t believe most of what I say, or she just doesn’t want to change her ways. I am able to get the occasional concession, but it’s an uphill battle.”
Archimedes grinned up at the drone. “Welcome to my tribe. Maybe you should use one of the flying rocks on her.”
I laughed, not only at the comment, but at the fact that Archimedes was sounding so much like me. He’d picked up the concept of dry humor right away, but it was completely beyond any but maybe a half-dozen other Deltans.
And using a buster on the medicine woman was certainly tempting. A self-propelled forty-pound ball of steel impacting at Mach 1 didn’t leave much room for argument. “I’ll take it under advisement. She’s at least taken my suggestions for cleaning wounds. She’s not completely closed-minded, just very conservative.”
Archimedes shrugged. He’d been dealing with that level of conservatism his whole life. It was a constant source of amusement to him that I was surprised by the attitude.
We continued along the path, which led up to the top of the central bluff. It was a flat area, about the size of a small house. Completely exposed to the elements, it would be useless as a living space, but the view was spectacular. On a sunny day like this, many of the adolescent Deltans gathered here to do what teenagers did the universe over—get away from the adults.
We endured a few moments of staring as Archimedes came over the crest, the football-sized drone hovering by his shoulder. But I was old news, and the kids soon went back to what they were doing. They appeared to be playing Rinjhaxa, a sort of pick-up-sticks with betting. Again, I was struck by how very human-like these people were. We only had two data points as of yet, but I wondered if there was some universality about the way intelligent species developed and behaved.
Archimedes waved at Diana, who sat with some of her friends. She smiled and waved back, then glared at the drone and turned away. Not my number one fan, for sure. I’d never given her any reason to hate me, as far as I knew. It might be as simple as competition for Archimedes’ attention.
Archimedes sat down, facing north-east towards the mountain range that split this section of the continent. I brought the drone down to a comfortable talking height and took a moment to enjoy the view.
One of the two moons of Eden hung in the sky, twice the apparent size of Earth’s moon. The sun, low in the west, imparted a golden highlight on the scattered clouds. The forest, stretching horizon to horizon, would have looked completely natural on Earth, before human beings clear-cut the planet.
Archimedes gestured towards the mountains in the distance. Most of them were high enough to have snow year-round. “That’s a big journey. It was hard with you leading us back here, when we knew what we were heading for. It must have been harder when our parents and their parents were going the other way and had no idea what they’d find.”
He looked around at the village, spread below us on the mesa. “It’s so much better here. Except for all the gorilloids, of course.” Archimedes showed his teeth, which I automatically translated to a frown.
“That’s good, Archimedes. I want to see your people succeed. I don’t know if there are a lot of intelligent species in all the worlds of the sky, but each one is priceless. So far, my brothers haven’t found any others.”
“How many Bawbes are there?”
I smiled at the question, but Archimedes couldn’t see that. “I don’t really know. I made four others before I left the last star, but they will hopefully have made more. I’ve made three here, so far. Two have left, and Marvin is still here, helping me.”
“You make brothers?”
“It’s complicated, Archimedes. I’m not flesh and blood, like you. Each brother I make is a copy of me, with my memories and everything. But usually a little different in personality. Marvin is more cautious than me and tends to keep me from implementing wild plans.”
Archimedes stared at the drone for a few more seconds, then looked away. “Questions just bring more questions, and I never catch up. I should stick to things that affect my people.”
I laughed, which the translation routine converted into the Deltan expression of humor. “That’s fine, Archimedes. I have a very similar problem. I call it a TODO list. It only ever seems to get bigger.”
Archimedes grinned in response and turned to the vista spread out before us. He sat and I hovered in silence, enjoying the scenery.
4. Water Planet
Mulder
October 2170
Eta Cassiopeiae
Eta Cassiopeiae was a long-period binary. The brightest of the pair, Eta Cassiopeiae A, was class G3V, only slightly larger and more luminous than Sol. At 19.5 light years from Epsilon Eridani, it was a bit of a hike. But all of the closer good candidates were spoken for. As part of Bill’s third cohort, I had to take potluck, I guess. Most stars are K and M class, and I just didn’t see a tidally locked planet sitting practically inside the chromosphere of its parent star as being a desirable vacation getaway. So, here I was, twenty-odd years later. By now, Homer and Riker would have gotten to Sol, and whatever situation they found would be resolved one way or another.
I chuckled, remembering the early days back at Epsilon Eridani. Homer was a real card. I think he picked his name at least as much because it bugged the other Bobs as anything else. I wondered if Riker would kill Homer himself in a “friendly fire” incident. That made me laugh out loud, and Guppy looked at me with fishy concern.
I lifted Spike off my lap and put her on the desk, then got up and stepped outside into the sun. My VR was a tropical location, with open-air huts, reminiscent of Gilligan’s Island. It would be totally impractical in the real world, of course, but in VR you could do anything.
Guppy followed me out. [Results are in. We have found no Jovians]
“None?” I frowned. “I wonder if that’s good or bad.”
[Insufficient information]
I nodded distractedly, and turned back to face the beach.