Bob
November 2342
In Virt
Ireceived an invitation from Theresa, promising a surprise of so sort. I’d have visited anyway, but now my curiosity was up. I knocked and was admitted into her VR in Quinlan form. Theresa was reclining on a chaise, with a bowl of squiz on a side table. She had settled on an open-concept shelter, as in no walls. Partly covered by a pergola, it was essentially a patio with so accessories. The weather was always warm and dry in VR, and anyway, Quinlans were furry, so most of the reasons for an enclosed domicile were moot.
Even with the Bobs, it was more a matter of habit than any real necessity. And why not? Henry Roberts lived full-ti on a boat, and I’d heard rumors of so other ex-humans who had taken up the Davy Crockett lifestyle full-ti in VR.
Theresa smiled at , waiting. Obviously, I was supposed to figure out the punch line myself. I looked around, sowhat at a loss. The weather was nice; the foliage was foliage-like; little animals and Quinnish bugs buzzed around. The view was clear out to the horizon … the horizon.
I did a slow three-sixty. “This is a planetary surface?”
“Right the first ti. I extracted so archival footage from Anec. This is Quin, before the—what did you call it?”
“Jackpot. It’s an allusion to a famous and very popular author from when I was alive. It ans when a whole bunch of crap hits at once and takes civilization down.”
“That certainly fits, although I think the human word is supposed to refer to a good thing.”
I laughed. “Yeah, well, English—what you call human—is a very fluid language. It doesn’t really have a cultural identity of its own, so it’s quite happy to beat up and rob other languages. A word ans just what we want it to an. No more, no less.”
She gave a side-eye. “That sounds like another quote. You get a tone when you do that.”
“Can’t put one past you. So anything on tap for today, or was this just about the view?”
“Good news, bad news, Bob. The good news, we’ve introduced Quin the planet as a second-level VR for those ex-Quinlans who feel ready.”
“And the bad news?”
“Uh … ” Theresa hesitated, uncharacteristic for her. “We’ve had a number of Quinlan replicants turn themselves off. Deleted their backups, left orders not to restore them.”
“Oh.” I’d heard rumors of sothing similar in ex-human space, actually. I’d have to check up on that. “How many?”
“Only a few, Bob. No pattern that I can find, yet. It does concern , though. Anec is trying to get statistics from so of your human arcologies, but they are unsurprisingly quite closed-mouthed about it.”
I smiled in reply. “Well, I can help there, at least. We have contacts.”
Theresa nodded and popped a fish part into her mouth. I tried to suppress a gag.
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