We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 4: Chapter 26: Tensions Rise

Book 4: Chapter 26: Tensions Rise

Bill

July 2334

Virt

We’d left the mannies “napping” so we could get some work done in virt. The AMI would alert me if something required my attention. Meanwhile, I had a backlog of items that had accumulated.

I reviewed the list in front of me and frowned. The data window showed times and places of attempted logins to SCUT relay stations and autofactories. In every case, the login ID used in the attempt had been the old, common ID used in all equipment. Back when all the Bobs were on the same page.

Garfield had been reading over my shoulder. “I suppose it’s mathematically possible it could be someone other than Starfleet.”

“It’s mathematically possible you might spontaneously burst into flames,” I replied, turning to him. “I’m not betting on it, though.”

“Well, we’re in virt, but I get the point.” Garfield walked over to his La-Z-Boy, picked up Spike, and sat down with the cat in his lap. “So Starfleet is trying something, where something is undefined but probably not good. Is there anything we can do?”

“Already done it, Gar. I’ve accessed every single piece of equipment in the Bobiverse, tested the logins, and changed them. I’ve sent encrypted emails to the putative owners, with instructions to change the logins again themselves. And not to share those credentials.”

“Escalates how? Sends a war fleet?”

“Um. Well, if they did, we wouldn’t be able to defend against it. They know as well as we do how we detected the Others’ fleet …”

“And they won’t make that mistake. Except they won’t send a fleet. Where would they send it? Here? Eta Leporis? Omicron2 Eridani? Even if they were inclined to violence, this isn’t about real estate, or an entrenched foe. It’s about political stances, and both sides of the argument are pretty spread out, physically.”

“Yeah, I get that, but I just have this bad feeling. They’re not going to just throw their hands in the air. So they’ll be looking for ways to enforce their point of view.”

“Like …”

Garfield sighed. “I’d feel a lot better if I could come up with even one half-plausible scenario. But other than the vague conviction that they’ll do something, I’m coming up blank.”

I glanced at my data window one last time, then closed it. “I talked to a couple of my bio government contacts,” I said, turning back to Garfield. “They’ll bring it up with their bosses, they say. But I don’t think anyone is taking me seriously. This is a VR problem, after all. And the problem with VR problems is it’s hard to see how they relate to the real world.”

Garfield grinned. “If you die in virt, you die in real.”

“Horse puckey.” I laughed. “The Gamers die all the time. Sometimes several times in one session.”

“You visited them, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Gar. As part of the negotiations for the Heaven’s River project. They let me tag along in one of their LARPs. They go for the full meal deal, you know.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Full VR, fully armed and armored characters, total battle realism. They have a limiter on pain reception, just like we do with the mannies, but basically they can and do get stabbed, speared, slashed, burned, blown up, disintegrated, fireballed, electrocuted, drowned, eaten, and whatever other fates D&D and its spiritual descendants have come up with.”

Garfield grinned. “Nevertheless, I can see the attraction.”

“Sure. And in whatever Bob or Bobs bred the Gamers, that attraction became an obsession.” I paused. “The thing is, and this is the reason I brought them up, the Gamers aren’t really opposed to Starfleet’s attitude. I mean about breaking contact with bios. They don’t have a moral issue, they just see bios as a distraction.”

“Like the Skippies.”

“Yeah. It worries me a little. Could we end up being the minority viewpoint?”

“Maybe we should make ourselves a poorer target,” Garfield replied. “And move the moot and backup station.”

“Already done, Gar. Ultima Thule is now so far outside Epsilon Eridani that an expanding search would take centuries to find it. It occurred to me that, even if I haven’t published the location, I’ve done several clonings since I built it. And some of my clones have cloned. So there are at minimum dozens of Bobs who know where it is—was.”

Garfield hung his head. “I hate this.”

“Me too, buddy. It would appear that utopia is an unstable state.”

Garfield nodded, looking glum, and popped out. Sighing, I brought up my next TODO.