In a couple more days, I’ll have to start thinking of myself as Bob-1. I looked at the bulbous nose of Heaven-1A. Painted on the side, in pigments embedded right into the composite carbon-lattice shell, was a picture of a Brazilian probe with a big red X through it. This would be my new ship. The other Bobs would be free to decorate their vessels as they saw fit.
As that thought went through my mind, I once again felt a jolt of anxiety. Creating more HEAVEN vessels was part of the mission profile, but the process of creating new Bobs would reignite that whole internal debate about who or what I was. I would load backups of myself into the new vessels. Would they be me, or would they be someone else?
There would have to be rules. Some standards, so that things wouldn’t descend into chaos. First, each copy would have to come up with a new first name, to emphasize the fact that they were not me. Second, the most senior Bob in any system would be in charge. I stared into space for a few milliseconds, trying to think of any more items. Nothing came to mind.
I nodded to myself, then started the backup process.
***
I snapped back to full consciousness. The backup process, as always, felt like the closest thing to sleep that I had experienced since being reborn in the 22nd century. I activated my VR out of habit before getting on with the day’s business. But instead of my rich, detailed library, I found myself in a blue room. With no window. And a hard, indeterminate floor.
Uh oh. I queried my serial number.
[HIC16537-1]
Built in Epsilon Eridani. The Hipparcos Catalog number made that clear. I’m a copy of a copy. Crap.
It felt like New Handeltown all over again. Once again, I was waking up to find I wasn’t who I thought. I tried to console myself by noting that I was still a replicant, just a different one. It didn’t help as much as it should have.
Well, there was no point in sitting around getting all bent out of shape.
“Guppy?”
[GUPPI Ready]
“Page Bob-1, please.” I expected this conversation to be a little surreal.
[Bob-1 online]
“Hey there, this is Bob-1, otherwise known as Bob.”
I took a moment to savor the unexpected feeling of joy from hearing another human voice. Even if it was, technically, mine.
“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” I replied. “I’ll decide on my new name forthwith. Are the others up yet?”
“No, I want to bring you guys online one at a time. They’ll be coming up over the next hour. Meanwhile, will you be okay to take over manufacturing oversight? I need to put on my new body. The sooner I can get this done, the sooner I can get on with things.”
I reflexively tried to glance at Guppy, but I hadn’t set up my own VR yet. “No prob. Let me just confirm with Guppy, er, GUPPI, then we’ll handshake over control to me.”
“Thanks, Two. See you in the funny papers.”
***
I snapped back to full consciousness. I queried my serial number.
[SOL-1]
“Guppy?”
[Transfer of replicant hardware to your new ship is complete. You are now Heaven-1A]
“Wooh! Good.” I couldn’t really imagine what it would be like to wake up and discover that I wasn’t Bob any more. Probably a little surreal.
I activated my VR and found myself in my La-Z-Boy, with Spike in my lap, and Jeeves holding out a coffee.
“Ah, home… Guppy, everyone okay and up to speed?”
[Heaven-2 is monitoring the manufacturing systems. Heaven 3 through 5 are preparing for a shakedown cruise. They waited to be sure that your transfer was successful]
“I appreciate that. Message them that they can take off whenever they want, and to get lots of pictures.”
***
[There is a problem]
“Huh? Whazzup?”
[Heaven-3 reports an issue with SUDDAR. Emitter flaws are resulting in a much weaker ping]
“Crap. Put us on conference.”
There was a momentary delay, before the other Bobs came online.
“Bob-3 here. Call me Bill.”
“Bob-4 here.”
“Hi guys. Uh, Bill? Really?”
“As in Bill D. Cat.”
“That makes sense. We always liked Bill the Cat.”
Bob-4 chimed in, “Okay, call me Milo for now. Not my first choice, but we’ve got other fish to fry.”
“Watch it buddy, Guppy is listening.”
Milo and Bill laughed, and I continued, “So, Bill, what’s the issue?”
“Erm, looks like the emitter is defective. The SUDDAR ping I’m sending out is about 20% of what it should be.”
“That’s no good. You won’t be able to see fifty feet.” I thought for a moment. “Guppy, get Bob-2 on the phone.”
“I’m already on.”
“Oh, good. Two, could you hand off manufacturing to Bill? He can take over supervision while his emitter gets replaced.”
“No prob.”
With a jerk, I looked around. “Where’s Bob-5?”
“I’m here.”
“Oh, uh, you couldn’t talk before?”
“Didn’t have anything to say.”
Okay. Not a talker, I guess.
“Got a name?”
“Mario.”
Definitely not a talker. Interesting. Five milliseconds in, and we already sounded different.
“Guys, I guess we need to talk about what each of us is going to do from here. So, let’s start things rolling. Two, you got any preferences?”
“Call me Riker,” Bob-2 said.
“Riker? Oh, number two.” The First Officer of the Enterprise had been referred to as Number One on the show. It had taken me perhaps five seconds to start calling him number two. Hey, I’ve already said I’m not mature.
Bill said, “I guess telling jokes will become a lost art, unless we can find someone who doesn’t know our material.”
Guppy shook his head in disgust.
As we’d been talking, video windows for the other Bobs had popped into my VR, floated in the air above my desk. Each had chosen a different VR environment, visible in the background. Four copies of my face gazed back at me.
Riker, wearing a red uniform, appeared to be sitting on the bridge of a spaceship. I spared a moment to be thankful he’d skipped the beard, then I rolled my eyes at him. “Because that wasn’t predictable or anything.”
Riker shrugged, not cracking so much as a smile. “I had to have something. Might as well be this, then I can stop worrying about it.” He leaned forward on the arm of the captain’s chair and gestured at the hologram of EE-2 that I had put up. “The planet’s not really move-in-ready. I’m not sure if Earth will bother sending a colony ship here, unless there are no other alternatives.”
“I dunno about that.” Milo sat in an easy chair, nursing a coffee. In the background, clouds floated by. “From everything Dr. Landers said, this is as much about political one-upmanship and military strategy as any real desire to seed the stars. I think they’ll send at least a garrison to the first habitable planet we report, just so they can say they’re first. And to claim the system, of course. I don’t think we count toward that.”
“There’s the question of cost, though. Even with cheap fusion power and 3D printers, you still need raw materials. And in the solar system, they’re not free for the taking. Nations won’t just throw together a colony ship on a whim.” Riker squinted and frowned. “Hey Milo, what’s your VR?”
Milo looked behind himself, then smiled at Riker. “Airship. Sort of. Flash-Gordon-style floating platform, anyway. I’m over the Amazon basin right now.”