Bill
May 2171
Epsilon Eridani
[Incoming SCUT connection. New node]
Guppy made the announcent with the sa fishy poker face that he would use to announce the end of the world. I looked up and grinned. Garfield dropped the file he was working on and ca running over. Only a handful of Bobs, so far, had received the SCUT plans that I’d been broadcasting and had built their own FTL transceiver. Each new connection was an event.
I held the mont as long as I could. Just as Garfield drew a breath to yell at , I said to Guppy, “Play the incoming.”
“This is Bob calling. Bill, you actually cracked FTL communications? I’m impressed!”
I did a fist pump, and then Garfield and I whooped and perford a high five—the nerd kind, where you miss.
Logically, Bob-1 was no more significant than any other Bob that received the SCUT plans, but this wasn’t a matter of logic. Bob-1 was like Odin the All-Father. He started the whole thing. For it was special, since he’d cloned . For any of the third-generation or later Bobs, it would be like legend walking among us.
Of course, that wouldn’t stop from pulling the usual prank.
I popped into Bob’s VR without warning, coffee in hand. I noticed, as the VRs synced, that he’d been doing so enhancents of his own. The versions weren’t incompatible, but there would be video glitches. I’d have to upgrade him to my latest release so he would be fully compatible with BobNet.
“Holy—” Bob jerked in surprise, and Spike bolted from the desk she’d been sitting on.
I laughed. “Works every ti. Hi Bob. Welco to BobNet.”
Bob smiled at the implied tip of the hat. I took a millisecond to look around his VR. This appeared to be a planetary environnt—a village of so kind. So species of natives were going about their business. They were obviously intelligent, since they had spears and axes and stuff. They looked a little like walking bats with a dash of pig thrown in, by way of long snouts with flat nostrils. Their fur was short, generally gray, with brown overtones. Kind of ugly, really.
The level of detail was impressive, and I couldn’t rember any movie or book that featured creatures like this. I looked over at Bob, who was trying to suppress a smug grin—and failing badly.
With a jolt, I realized that this had to be real. Or at least a VR based on reality. This was First Contact.
Keeping my expression neutral, I turned in a circle to take in the full tableau. “Who are the neighbors?”
Bob, now grinning unabashedly, swept a hand around the virtual campground. “This is a recording of the Deltans’ village. I use this to experience their environnt. Get a better feel for how they live.”
“Interesting. Have you made contact?”
There was a barking laugh from off to the side, and I looked over to see another Bob. I turned back to Bob-1 and was surprised to see he was blushing. That was better VR realism than my version supported. I decided I’d do a rge on the VR features before upgrading him.
“Bill, this is Marvin.” Bob gestured toward the newcor. “He’s a disrespectful pain in the ass. And that’s one of his better qualities.”
Marvin and I smiled and nodded to each other. I said, “I recognize the tone of that laugh. I guess Bob has gone overboard.”
Marvin smirked. “You might say that. He’s beco the great volcano god. Did you see the spears and axes?”
“Hey!” Bob interjected. “I resent that. I’m more of a sky god.”
We all laughed together. Despite the joking, though, I was still a little lightheaded. An intelligent species, the first we’d ever run across. I had a pretty good idea which blog was going to be number one on BobNet for the next little while. ȓÀꞐỔᛒË𝙨
Bob motioned to a couch and coffee-table setup sitting incongruously in the middle of the native village. “So, Bill, what’s new in the galaxy?”
I sat down, accepted a coffee from Jeeves, and took a mont to pat Bob’s incarnation of Spike, who had co back to investigate. The cat’s A.I. appeared more independent than my version. Another item to rge. It dawned on that Bob was still the reigning master of VR coding.
“Wow, what’s been happening?” I thought for a mont. “Well, Milo discovered two habitable planets at Omicron2 Eridani. Nad them Vulcan and Romulus.”
Bob laughed. “Of course he did. What else could he do?”
I grinned back at him, then got serious. “Riker and his clone, Hor, had a big battle in Sol with the last of the Brazilian space navy, and discovered that humanity had almost wiped itself out in a system-wide war. They’re building colony ships and are hoping to get so people to Vulcan before the Earth stops being livable.”
Bob interrupted. “How many people left?”
“About fifteen million, give or take.”
“And how big are the colony ships?”
I nodded, understanding where Bob was going. “Ten thousand capacity. Yeah, I know. Fifteen hundred ships or fifteen hundred trips. But we can only do what we can do.”
Bob nodded. He looked worried, and I couldn’t bla him. Riker and I had this conversation regularly. So far, we hadn’t found any shortcut.
I tried to change the subject to lighten the mood. “We’ve got a minimum of about twenty Bobs running around the galaxy right now, by my estimate.” I waved a hand in casual dismissal. “You know. The usual. Blah, blah…”
Bob visibly shook off the funk and tried to smile. “Sounds like you’ve taken to the job of central clearing house with a vengeance. Got anything going in Epsilon Eridani besides the SCUT?”
“I’m slowly terraforming Ragnarök. Riker has sent so seeds and plant samples my way with an outgoing Bob. They should be here in three years or so. Then I’ll try to get so basic moss/lichen hybrids growing. Oh, and the Android project. I’ve got a quadruped android working, more or less, and I can control it remotely. It’s slow going though, and I’ve barely scratched the surface.”
“I’ll want one of those when they’re available,” Bob said. “I’d like to be able to go down to Eden as an actual presence instead of a floating cara.”
“Mmm.” I nodded. It looked like Bob was pretty invested in the lives of the Deltans. No real surprise, though.
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