*
“Butterworth?” Bill stared at me, eyebrows climbing his forehead.
“Well, granted, Riker will probably have a cow, which will be ironic. But Butterworth has got to be in his eighties now, if not more. The guy’s like an Egyptian mummy. He just gets drier and more leathery.”
“Maybe he’s a Pak Protector.” Bill grinned at me.
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, sometimes the early-generation Bobs were a bit weird. “Yeah, anyway, he’s military. Or ex-military, whatever. Maybe he can help with the war.”
“Interesting thought, Howard. I’m not against it, by any means. We should run it through a moot before bringing it up with Butterworth, though.”
I nodded, unfazed. Moots were held weekly, these days, because of the Others’ threat. I wouldn’t have to wait long.
*
I’d never seen Butterworth actually speechless before. I’d seen him trying not to explode, I’d seen him explode, I’d listened to him explode. This was new.
Butterworth stared into the video window, his jaw hanging slightly open. Finally, he found his voice. “You want to replicate me?”
“Well, eventually. Not like this week. The process can’t be done on a living person, not if you want to be left with a living person afterwards. But I’m building the equipment for—er, for any such circumstance, and it occurred to me that you would be valuable for the war effort.”
Butterworth looked down at his desk in silence. Then he looked up and smiled. “Sure, why not?”
Well, that was easy. “Um, okay. I’ll send you a file with some information. You’ll need to update your will.”
Butterworth nodded and ended the call.
71. Charlie
Bob
June 2213
Delta Eridani
Charlie hung in the rack, powered down and looking boneless. The Deltan android looked utterly convincing—I had put a lot of effort into getting the fur right, both in texture and layout. I didn’t want Charlie to come across like all the bad ape and werewolf costumes from twentieth century movies. This needed to be believable.
I realized that I was stalling. The android had been checked out every which way, and it was now time to put up or shut up.
Sighing, I ordered the cargo drone to open the hangar door, while I activated Charlie.
I turned my head and looked out the cargo bay doors. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the bright daylight outside. I undraped myself from the support rack and, staggering a little, walked to the doors. I stood for a moment, looking around at the forest. I’d seen all of this many times, of course, from the various drones, but there was something viscerally different this time. I was here in some undefinable way. It might be as simple as the feeling of the breeze lightly ruffling my fur, or the smell of the damp leaf layer that formed the floor of the forest. I spared a moment to grin with unconstrained joy, which the autonomic interface converted to a spread-eared, wide-eyed expression appropriate to a Deltan.
Stepping out onto the surface of Eden, I looked down at the ground, feeling the slightly slimy texture as the decaying leaf fragments squished between my clawed toes. Dappled sunlight flickered as the tree branches and leaves moved in the breeze. With an effort, I brought myself back on task. I triggered the heads-up display and pulled up a local map. The image hovering in my line of sight showed my location, and the location of Archimedes relative to me. I turned to line him up, and began to walk.
*
I spotted Archimedes through the underbrush, the observation drone hovering near his shoulder. He casually worked a small flint core as he waited. It appeared I was far more nervous about this meeting than he was. Or maybe that was his way of coping.
Well, whatever. Showtime. I walked towards him, and said his name as soon as I was within conversational distance. He looked up, and his eyes went wide. Springing to his feet, he squeaked, “Bawbe?”
I grinned at him as I approached. I opened my mouth to respond, but stopped in surprise when he jerked back and exclaimed, “Woof! Wow!”
“Problem?”
“Sorry, Bawbe. You smell. Kind of like the drones, especially when a new one is delivered. And also a bit like the ashes from a cold fire. You definitely won’t fool anyone.”
“Aw crap.” I rolled my eyes in frustration. “I didn’t think of that. Deltans depend much more on the sense of smell than humans do. Is it really bad?”
“Not as long as I’m upwind, no.” He grinned at me.
“Gotcha. Okay, I’ll go work on it. How about the rest? Does it look okay?”
Archimedes cocked his head one way, then the other. “You move in a sort of jerky way. Like a pup when he’s learning to walk, but maybe that’ll go away. What’s more weird is that your fur pattern is exactly the same on both sides of your body. No one is like that. It stands out.”
Of course. I’d made Charlie completely symmetrical. I would have to fix that. And the odor. I needed to smell like a Deltan, and more importantly like an individual. I took a deep lungful of Archimedes, cataloguing his odor and the lingering essence of what had to be Diana. It wasn’t insurmountable, thank the universe. Just chemistry.
“Got it. Okay, Archimedes. I’ll go away and fix this stuff. I can see you trying to stay upwind of me, even though you’re being polite about it.” I chuckled. “Having been downwind of a couple of people who needed showers, in a former life, I can relate.”
Archimedes looked slightly confused, but nodded. I waved goodbye and turned to walk back to the cargo drone.
*
Charlie the android, Take 2. I walked up to Archimedes and spread my arms, palms forward, in a Well? gesture.
He took a deep sniff, cocked his head, and nodded. “You’re walking better, as well. I guess that’s just practice, like with children. And your fur pattern is better. It’s very simple, but I know a few people like that. You’ll just be forgettable.” He grinned at me.
I laughed in response. “Well, that’s fine. The last thing I want is to attract attention. Now, will I be questioned if I enter Camelot?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Archimedes turned and gestured towards the village, and we began walking. I silently ordered the drone to return to standby.
“Camelot is so big, now,” he continued, “and Caerleon is growing as well. Even with the tension between us and them, a certain number of people still move back and forth. It’s not like there are rules about it.” He gave me a sideways glance and a knowing grin.