We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Chapter 38: Riker – November 2158 – Sol

Chapter 38: Riker – November 2158 – Sol

I disconnected the UN meeting video with a sigh. The day’s session had been pretty routine. Which meant something just below a bunch of cats fighting over a fish. The announcement that the Spits would be getting the third ship was met with the expected level of vitriol. Part of the problem was that Spitsbergen wasn’t expected to be a viable location by the time the Spits left, so no one would be able to take over the vacated premises. It was a waste of time to point out that that meant the Spits would die if they didn’t leave. This world was a lot harsher than the one I grew up in.

In addition, the release of the Svalbard Trust contents didn’t benefit anyone unless they were on a colony ship, so to most groups it was a decision with no upside.

There had also been discussion of the latest threats from some group calling itself VEHEMENT. I made a mental note to talk to the colonel about them.

If I ever got that far. I looked at my call list. Unbelievable. For some reason, even if I didn’t participate in a session, everyone felt the need to call me afterwards. I wish I could say it was nice to be popular.

And naturally the first caller was my favorite FAITH minister. I grimaced and briefly considered letting Guppy take him, but I knew I’d just be putting it off. However, I could make him wait.

Ignoring the list, I made a call to Butterworth. We exchanged the minimum pleasantries, then I asked him about this latest batch of loonies.

“Mm, yes. Stands for Voluntary Extinction of Human Existence Means Earth’s Natural Transformation. Or something close to that. I’ve heard several variations, including one or two that are obscene. Their stance is that humans have had their chance, and we should just let ourselves die off.”

“Except they’re threatening to use guerilla tactics to get their way. Where does ‘voluntary’ fit into that?”

Butterworth waved a hand dismissively. “I believe they expect you to voluntarily go along with them in order to avoid violence. Such fringe groups have a much harder time of it these days, but somehow they still manage to cause the occasional bit of damage. I think they were expecting to ultimately get their way until you showed up on the scene. Now they’ve started to escalate the rhetoric.”

“Wonderful. I remember something vaguely similar from when I was alive, but that one was voluntary, in practice as well as in name. So, where does this group operate out of?”

“No idea.” The colonel shrugged. “Pronouncements are anonymized, incidents appear to be random in location, except for being opportunistic. Their manifesto essentially says that we can voluntarily stop breeding or they will help us along the path.”

I rubbed my forehead. People’s capacity for turning dogmatic stupidity into political movements never ceased to amaze me. “We’ve knocked off 99.9% of the human race, and somehow the crazies still manage to survive. It just defies the odds.”

The Colonel laughed, and we said our goodbyes.

Well, so much for delaying tactics. I was going to have to deal with Cranston. With a theatrical sigh, I connected the call.

“Good afternoon, minister. What can I do for you?”

Minister Cranston smiled into the camera. Or showed his teeth, anyway. I had no illusions about his friendliness. “Good day, repl—Riker. I believe I have someone here that you’d like to talk to.” He reached forward and adjusted the camera at his end, bringing a young woman into the frame.

She smiled shyly and said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Johansson. My name is Julia Hendricks.”

I was stunned, totally frozen. I wouldn’t say she was the spitting image of Andrea, but if this woman wasn’t related to my sister it would be a miracle of coincidence. A small part of my mind knew that Minister Cranston had done this deliberately to manipulate me, but I didn’t care.

Finally, after almost a quarter second of silence, I found my voice. “Hi Julia. I’m assuming we’re related?”

She nodded, quick jerky movements. She seemed very nervous, but whether because of me or because of the minister, I couldn’t say. I had little doubt that the minister had given her very specific instructions, accompanied by threats.

After a moment, she found her voice. “Yes, I’m Andrea Johansson’s three-times-great grand-daughter. I just found this out myself.” She gave a small, aborted glance in the minister’s direction. The message was loud and clear.

I smiled back at her, trying for as much warmth as I could. “So how many collateral descendants do I have?”

I think this question put Julia on more familiar ground. “More than twenty currently alive that I know of, Mr. Johansson, uh, Riker…” She looked down, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Julia,” I held up a hand. “I’m not really your great-great-great-grand-uncle, I’m just his memories. And I don’t go by Bob anymore, so that’s out. Might as well just call me Riker, like everyone else does. Almost everyone.” I gave Minister Cranston a hard glance. “Or William. Or even Will. I don’t expect you to really care about me, although I’m guessing Minister Cranston expects me to care about you and your relatives.” I tilted my head sideways, a minimal shrug. “And he’s right. But that’s not the same as saying I’ll bend the rules.”

Minister Cranston leaned fully into frame. “We’re all adults, Mr. Riker, and we all know I have ulterior motives, just as all the other delegates do. Nevertheless, you have relatives here, and you will be able to talk to them whenever you want without interference. I’ll leave you to it.” And with that, he got up and left the office. Of course, they could still monitor the conversation, but it was a nice touch.

Julia and I looked at each other in shock for a moment, then we both started to speak at the same time.

The log says we talked for three hours, but it felt like no time at all.