We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 2: Chapter 5: Progress

Book 2: Chapter 5: Progress

Howard

December 2188

Omicron² Eridani

The fence was all but finished, the town had been laid out, and now it had an official name. Landing wasn’t particularly inventive, but everyone thought it was appropriate.

I was on a conference call with Colonel Butterworth and Stéphane, discussing the recent deaths. The colonel had his usual glass of Jameson. Stéphane was calling in from the field, so his image was up in a separate window. Teleconferencing was certainly a lot easier than it had been in Original Bob’s lifetime. And it made things better for me, since in this context, I was as real as anyone else.

“Two dead,” Stéphane repeated, shaking his head. “A couple of raptors hid behind transport trucks hauling logs and simply walked into camp, staying out of sight. The beasts are tricky. Are we sure they aren’t intelligent?”

Colonel Butterworth cocked an eyebrow at him. “By which, I assume you mean human-level sentient. And the answer is no, to the extent we can determine. I’ve discussed this with Dr. Sheehy and her staff, and they assure me that the raptors have no language, beyond stereotyped verbal signaling. They use no weapons, not that they need any, and we see no evidence of structures.” He shrugged. “In the absence of some other form of evidence, they appear to be only animals. Very smart ones, but nothing more.”

“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, Colonel.”

Butterworth looked at me, one eyebrow still up. “I understand the philosophical point, Howard. However, in the real world, we are here to propagate our species. It is simply not possible to do that with a zero footprint. I would be happy to stop killing raptors, if the raptors could be persuaded to stop trying to eat colonists.” He smiled. “Failing that, we and they will continue to interact in the ways that competing species have always handled such situations.”

I knew there was no good answer to this discussion, and there were other things at the top of my mind. “On another subject, are we on schedule to decant the rest of the colonists?”

“As long as the second farm donut is ready to go into full production, yes.” Butterworth took a sip of his whiskey and stared at it thoughtfully. “I’m going to have to start rationing this more stringently. The next barrel is sixteen light-years away. If any still exist at all.” He shook off the thought and looked at me.

I ignored the comment about the Jameson. “We’re on schedule, Colonel. Bert and Ernie are anxious to get going back to Earth for another load.” And in thirty-five years or so, another twenty thousand people would have to find a place to settle on either Vulcan or Romulus. Would I still be here? Or would I have handed it off to one of my clones by then?

Stéphane said, “Security is ready. The fence will be finished within forty-eight hours. Your observation drones are helping greatly.”

I nodded to him. “It’s kind of ad hoc, right now. Eventually I’ll want to put together a really good, automated system.” I turned back to the colonel. “Farms are ready, and I’m building up a surplus in anticipation of need.”

“And we have adequate shelter, although many will live in barracks for another month or two.” Colonel Butterworth looked at each of us in turn. “I think we’re ready. Please pass the word to the Exodus pilots.”

I grinned. Finally. Opening Day.

* * *

I accepted a ping from Bert, and he popped into my VR. I saw that he was no longer wearing the Battlestar Galactica uniform. Well, the joke had been wearing a bit thin.

“Hey, Howard. I just got your email. Butterworth has agreed to offload the balance of the colonists?”

I noted Bert’s obvious excitement. I guess it was a question of pride; Bert and Ernie wanted to be on the road, hauling colonists. Orbiting Vulcan, acting as floating warehouses, just didn’t cut it.

Bert sat and accepted a coffee from Jeeves. “It looks like Exodus-3 will be here mid-next-year.”

“Yep. Riker told Sam to take it a bit slow on the flight, to give us more lead time. We agreed to get the Spits off-Earth within six months of the first two ships. Nothing was said about arrival times.” ????BË?

“Ah, lawyering. Makes the universe go ‘round.”

I smiled, then grew serious. “We’ve needed the extra time. Milo wasn’t kidding about Vulcan’s ecosystem. They’ve had to go back and reinforce the fence, then add electrical wiring to dissuade the brontos from chewing on it. And to keep out the raptors, and the giant snake-things, and those burrowing armadillo things…” I shook my head. “We’re making progress, but it’s like wading through molasses sometimes.”

“Well, not really my problem.” Bert took a sip of coffee. “Shuttles start moving people down this afternoon. Just make sure you have somewhere to put them. I’m about ready to just hover over the tarmac and turn the shuttle sideways to dump ‘em out.” He grinned to show he wasn’t serious. Or at least not completely so.

“Okay, Bert, I’ll let the colonel know.”

He finished his coffee, disappeared the cup, and popped out with a wave.