At one ti, we thought that the way life ca together was almost completely random, only needing an energy gradient to get going. But as we’ve moved into the information age, we’ve co to realize that life is more about information than energy. Fire has most of the characteristics of life. It eats, it grows, it reproduces. But fire retains no information. It doesn’t learn; it doesn’t adapt. The five millionth fire started by lightning will behave just like the first. But the five hundredth bacterial division will not be like the first one, especially if there is environntal pressure.
That’s DNA. And RNA. That’s life.
… Dr. Steven Carlisle, from the Convention panel Exploring the Galaxy
I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. For the mont, at least, I had no obligations, no schedule, nothing looming over . Except Guppy, who had his own opinions about schedules.
With the imdiate threat from deiros taken care of, I now had ti to celebrate the fact that I was in another star system. Another actual star system with planets and everything. Ti to look around.
***
I slid smoothly into orbit around Epsilon Eridani One. The innermost planet was slightly larger than Mars, and orbited at about .35 AU.
Solar radiation at this distance from the sun created a significant heating issue. I kept an eye on my temperature readings. A biological crew would find this trip uncomfortable.
As planets went, this was no prize winner, but it was the first extra-solar planet I’d ever seen. I would never have this particular experience again. I took a few monts to savor the excitent and wonder.
A dozen orbits of EE-1 were sufficient for my survey. Tidally locked, no atmosphere, not even remotely livable. The planet looked a lot like pictures I’d seen of rcury. Hellish hot, pools of what might be liquid lead, deep chasms in the surface from which ca the deep red glow of hot magma. Gravitric readings indicated a surprisingly high density, probably due to a large core. Good indications of mineral wealth, so this planet would be interesting to any colonists.
With a satisfied smile, I stored my report for eventual forwarding to Earth. Hopefully there was still soone there to receive it…
***
I studied the hologram above my desk. EE-2 orbited at 0.85 AU and seed to be livable. Barely. The Epsilon Eridani system was estimated to be around a billion years old, which set the upper limit for the age of the planet around which I currently orbited. EE-2 was about 90% the size of Earth but had much less ocean. At about 30% of the surface area, the bodies of water on EE-2 were isolated from each other. Rather than continents surrounded by oceans, this planet consisted of seas surrounded by land.
I wondered idly if that would an independent evolutionary lines in each sea. I gritted my teeth, because I had no way to find out. No allowance had been made in the mission design for sending anything down to investigate the planets themselves. This was definitely a mission planning shortfall, probably due to the rush to launch first.
“Guppy, make a note. I need to design exploration scouts.”
[Noted. However, replication is a higher priority]
“As you’ve ntioned, how many tis, now?”
[14]
“Thanks.” Guppy seed to have a one-track mind regarding mission paraters. I half-expected him to start vibrating like an irate Chihuahua.
Anyway, Epsilon Eridani 2…
The atmosphere contained about 3% oxygen, which implied that photosynthetic life had evolved in the seas, at least. Unless it was due to so natural process. There was no indication of any life having left the water yet—no green anywhere, just bare rock. So snow and ice at the poles, frost in the mornings all the way to the equator. Paradoxically, it looked more bleak and inhospitable than EE-1, possibly because it was almost habitable. People could probably live on this planet, with enough technological assistance. Like dos. It had a significant atmosphere, and it had water, which put it head-and-shoulders above Mars, anyway.
EE-2 had a small moon, about 500 km in diater, close enough to the planet to raise tides, if there had been oceans instead of landlocked seas.
I completed my survey, feeling a sense of frustration that I couldn’t examine the planet close up. I might have just discovered the existence of life outside the solar system. Or not. This sucked. Řаℕỗ𝐁ΕS̩
***
I set up an orbit at a considerable distance around EE-3. The planet was about 30% bigger than Jupiter, and although it didn’t have rings like Saturn, it did have an extensive and very cluttered planetary neighborhood. I had already identified 67 moons, 20 of which were large enough to have atmospheres. Three of them would qualify as planets in their own right. There were any number of smaller rocks and a thin ring of ice gravel.
Other than the size, EE-3 was boringly Jupiter-like, but with fewer surface storms. It had a slightly larger orbit than Jupiter, which, combined with the sun’s lower luminosity, ant that EE-3 would receive significantly less solar radiation. Too bad. None of those moons would have a snowball’s chance in hell of being livable.
I made my notes, feeling Guppy’s eyes boring into the back of my head, and prepared to continue on to EE-4.
***
The fourth planet of the system was only mildly interesting. It would seem I was already getting blasé after one system and four planets. Great attention span, Bob.
This far out from the sun, weather patterns were smooth and laminar, resulting almost entirely from the planet’s rotation. Solar heating was a negligible factor. The planet had more than its share of moons, but most of them were just hunks of rock, not even big enough to be spherical.
***
I leaned back in my chair, fingers tented, staring at nothing. I’d flown back to the scene of my recent battle and parked near my forr construction site. I had so thinking to do about my future.
I found myself wrapped in a vague sense of disappointnt. No ringed planets, no double planets, no alien civilization—hell, no life at all that I could see. Not even a particularly good colonization target. Assuming anyone back on Earth was still alive to care. The next system might be better. Or it might be even more barren. And either way, so what? Was this what I wanted, to wander the galaxy like so kind of Flying Dutchman?
The issue with exploration drones, at least, would be easy to fix. The design of the mining drone could be easily adapted for other purposes—the ship-busters were a good example—and the libraries had lots of information on various kinds of environntal sensors. With the 3D printers, I had virtually unlimited flexibility.
And speaking of building things… I glanced over at Guppy. Yep. Still glaring. If I hadn’t done all that code cleanup, the mission imperatives would be exerting their influence and I would have already started building the space station and Bob clones. But with those removed, I was an unconstrained entity, with free will. And apparently, so kind of anxiety about cloning myself.
It was ti to put up or shut up. I had no more delaying tactics up my sleeve. I could fly off into the sunset, I could sit here with my thumb up my… uh… paralyzed by indecision, or I could get with the program.
I looked over at Guppy again. I knew what he wanted, of course. He continued to glare back at , fishy impatience written all over his face. His operating system was in firmware, so in order to cure him of his obsession, I’d have to build a whole new core. Which ant a new ship. Which brought us back full circle to my imdiate problem.
So what the hell was the issue? As near as I could tell, I was concerned about what cloning myself would say about my uniqueness as an individual and the existence of so kind of soul. Which, for a humanist, was a shocking admission.
And what if I didn’t like myself? What if it turned out I was a jerk? That would be hard to live down.
I sighed and rubbed my eyelids with the tips of my fingers. This was pointless. I knew, logically, that sooner or later I’d have to go ahead with it. Delaying and kvetching was just stressing out more.
“Okay, Guppy. Deploy manufacturing systems. Let’s get the party started.”
Guppy couldn’t smile, thank God. That sight would probably scare out of a year’s growth. But he did stand up straighter, and he went imdiately into his command fugue. I felt the ship shudder as drones started launching. Within minutes, I was at the center of an expanding sphere of robotic servants with one mission—build more Bobs.
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