I was having a good time investigating it, though. According to WikiBob, no one had yet given a gas giant anything more than the standard cursory once-over. Okay, granted, they’re hard to colonize. But still.
Adapting the drones to operate inside the atmosphere of the Jovian was a constant headache—a game of Whack-a-Mole, as Original Bob would have said. I would get a little deeper in with each new prototype, but I was losing about one in three. But there was lots of metal in this system, and I had all the time in the world.
I was relaxing out on the patio when a ding indicated an incoming message. I popped it up and started to read.
It was another update from Dexter. More about the colonies, several new cities, population up over a million, space industries, yadda yadda.
Oh.
Stéphane was dying. Haliburton’s Encephalopathy had been identified within a decade of landing on Vulcan, and appeared to be one of the few diseases that found Terran life compatible. There was no treatment yet, and it was fatal within six months. I felt my stomach drop away. Stéphane had been my friend for a long time, and the thing with Bridget hadn’t changed that. Not really. But it reminded me that I called humans ephemerals for a reason.
I’d been lounging around in this system for too long. First, I wrote an email to Bridget and Stéphane, and asked when I could arrange a call.
Then, there would be other calls to make.
*
I pinged Bill, then popped in when I got an acknowledgement. Garfield was there as well, sitting and drinking a coffee. Diagrams and notes covered all the walls. Just your basic, normal, mad-scientist lab.
Both of them looked down in the dumps. All the Bobs were preparing for the Others’ arrival in Delta Pavonis. Bill and Garfield no doubt felt pressure to produce new weapons, but you could only do what you could do. Well, I sympathized, but I had immediate concerns.
“Hey, guys,” I said, motioning to the decorations. “What’s the project?”
“Couple of different ones,” Garfield answered. “But most of this wall is the Android Project. That’s what you called about, right?”
I nodded, and examined my shoes for a few moments before looking up. “How close are you guys to a more-or-less human-equivalent android? I’m going to have a funeral to attend soon.”
Bill and Garfield looked at each other, then back at me. “Pretty far along, actually. We’ve got a prototype. It looks like a mannequin, and you wouldn’t want to go dancing, but for walking around, I think it’s ready.”
“Could I make one in three months?”
Bill thought for a few moments. “Right now it’s all prototypes and one-offs, with manual assembly. We’d have to put together formal printer plans, but once we have those done, yes.”
I nodded. It would be in time. You never knew for sure with medical predictions, of course. But one could hope. “Send the plans to Dexter at Vulcan when they’re ready, okay?”
*
I’d received an email from Dexter that the android was ready. It was time to arrange a visit. I took a deep breath and placed a phone call.
After a few rings, Bridget answered the phone. “Howard?”
“Hi Bridge. How’s Stéphane doing?”
Bridget hesitated. She looked terrible. Stéphane’s illness was taking its toll on her as well. Her eyes were red, her hair was gray. Her skin was grey. I wanted to take her in my arms and make it all go away. And, I realized with a start, this was the first time that I had articulated my feelings about her so clearly.
“Stéphane won’t last much longer. Another couple of weeks is the most the doctors will commit to.”
“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.
I hung up the phone and put my face in my hands. It took several milliseconds to get myself under control, then I pinged Dexter.
“Hi Howard. Checking up on Manny?”
“Yep.” I looked around Dexter’s VR. It was a basic library sort of thing. I’d begun to notice less and less effort by the Bobs, especially the later generations, to put together an interesting VR. I made a mental note to discuss the shift in attitudes with Dexter if the opportunity ever came up.
He nodded and popped up a video and some report summaries. The video showed Manny the android in his support cradle. He looked complete. I leaned forward and looked closely at the summary windows.
“All tests completed successfully,” Dexter said. “I figured you’d want to do the first activation.”
“Thanks, Dex.”
Bill’s android project had been going on and off for sixty-five years now, and this was the latest version. Manny consisted of a carbon-fiber-matrix skeleton, designed and articulated to replicate the human version as closely as possible. Memory plastics that contracted when a voltage was applied stood in for muscles. The artificial musculature was laid down over the skeleton in the same layout as human musculature. The result was something that should be able to move, behave, and appear realistic. And neural feedback from the android would ensure a realistic experience for the operator.
Unfortunately, human-appearing skin and hair were low on the priority list. Right now, Manny did indeed resemble a mannequin more than anything else. No hair, pale plastic-texture skin, and gray, staring eyes. According to the specs, facial muscle control was still a little spotty. I had a quick glance at the Deficiencies List.
Well, Bill had said it was a prototype.
68. Recording
Jacques
September 2212
Delta Pavonis
Guppy popped into VR. [New memory core is online]
“Good. It was getting a little tight. Have the drones resume the full program.”
Guppy nodded and disappeared.