Howard
March 2193
Vulcan
The Enniscorthy Distillery Company was doing well. I looked over the spreadsheet. We were just barely keeping up with orders. And we insisted on C.O.D., so no receivables issues.
After so discussion, we’d decided we needed a planetbound distillery, and we brought Stéphane in to set that up.
Bridget slapped the cover closed on her tablet, then set it on the desk. She worked her shoulder and spine a few tis before leaning back in the chair.
Stéphane frowned in her direction. “Backache again? You should see the doctor.”
Bridget answered with a noncommittal smile, then looked towards my image on the phone. “I guess you don’t get backaches, right?”
“Not unless I want to. We Bobs try to keep things as realistic as possible, most of the ti, though. I don’t need to let my muscles go stiff, but stretching them out feels good.”
She nodded, staring into space. “You’re effectively immortal, aren’t you? How old are you personally, Howard?”
“Well, I’ve only existed for eight years’ subjective ti as Howard. But my mories go back to Original Bob’s earliest mories as a child, maybe around two years old. So I rember around twenty-nine years as Original Bob, then four years as Bob-1 before he built his first set of clones; four years as Riker; fifteen years as Charles, who was one of Riker’s first clones; and eight years since Charles cloned . That’s subjective ti, as I said. There’s a lot of relativistic ti dilation in there. So, I’ve experienced sixty years of life.”
She made a face at . “That sounds complicated. Do you share thoughts?”
“With the other Bobs? No. When a Bob is cloned, he wakes up with the sa mories as his parent at the mont the backup was made. After that, though, we each go our own way.”
“Wow. I’m not sure I could handle that. Life is complicated enough.”
“Well, what about as an afterlife?” I smiled at her. “Original Bob had to die first, before he beca a replicant. Not much future in death, I’m told.”
“On the other hand, your relatives stop calling.”
“We do have one non-Bob, you know. Henry Roberts is the Australian probe replicant.”
She made a moue of sothing, maybe disapproval. “Yeah, word is he’s not fully bolted down.”
“Mm, well, Henry had so issues with sensory deprivation early on. We know how to handle it now. Any new replicants would probably be fine.” I looked at her sideways. “You thinking of applying?” ŖаN𝐨𐌱Ё𝐬
“No, just curious.”
Stéphane added, one eyebrow arched, “Immortality sounds good, though.”
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