We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 2: Chapter 67: Bad News

Book 2: Chapter 67: Bad News

Howard

December 2210

HIP 14101

HIP 14101 was a bit of a bust. Nice sun, nice spectral lines, but nothing orbiting it worth talking about. A Jovian had managed to set up shop at the outer edge of the comfort zone, leaving no space for any terrestroid planets.

I was having a good time investigating it, though. According to WikiBob, no one had yet given a gas giant anything more than the standard cursory once-over. Okay, granted, they’re hard to colonize. But still.

Adapting the drones to operate inside the atmosphere of the Jovian was a constant headache—a game of Whack-a-Mole, as Original Bob would have said. I would get a little deeper in with each new prototype, but I was losing about one in three. But there was lots of metal in this system, and I had all the time in the world.

I was relaxing out on the patio when a ding indicated an incoming message. I popped it up and started to read.

It was another update from Dexter. More about the colonies, several new cities, population up over a million, space industries, yadda yadda.

Oh.

Stéphane was dying. Haliburton’s Encephalopathy had been identified within a decade of landing on Vulcan, and appeared to be one of the few diseases that found Terran life compatible. There was no treatment yet, and it was fatal within six months. I felt my stomach drop away. Stéphane had been my friend for a long time, and the thing with Bridget hadn’t changed that. Not really. But it reminded me that I called humans ephemerals for a reason.

I’d been lounging around in this system for too long. First, I wrote an email to Bridget and Stéphane, and asked when I could arrange a call.

Then, there would be other calls to make.

* * *

I pinged Bill, then popped in when I got an acknowledgement. Garfield was there as well, sitting and drinking a coffee. Diagrams and notes covered all the walls. Just your basic, normal, mad-scientist lab.

“I’m so sorry, Bridget. How’s he taking it?”

“He’s mostly not lucid any more, Howard. We knew that was coming, and we’ve said our goodbyes.” She blinked back tears as she spoke. Brave words, but the pain behind them shone through.

I endured a momentary wave of grief as I realized I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to my friend. I looked at Bridget without saying anything, and she nodded, understanding completely.

I tried to say the usual inane words of encouragement. I would have stayed on the line as long as she wanted. But she was tired, physically and emotionally, and she soon begged off.

I hung up the phone and put my face in my hands. It took several milliseconds to get myself under control, then I pinged Dexter.

“Hi Howard. Checking up on Manny?”

“Yep.” I looked around Dexter’s VR. It was a basic library sort of thing. I’d begun to notice less and less effort by the Bobs, especially the later generations, to put together an interesting VR. I made a mental note to discuss the shift in attitudes with Dexter if the opportunity ever came up.

He nodded and popped up a video and some report summaries. The video showed Manny the android in his support cradle. He looked complete. I leaned forward and looked closely at the summary windows.

“All tests completed successfully,” Dexter said. “I figured you’d want to do the first activation.”

“Thanks, Dex.”

Bill’s android project had been going on and off for sixty-five years now, and this was the latest version. Manny consisted of a carbon-fiber-matrix skeleton, designed and articulated to replicate the human version as closely as possible. Memory plastics that contracted when a voltage was applied stood in for muscles. The artificial musculature was laid down over the skeleton in the same layout as human musculature. The result was something that should be able to move, behave, and appear realistic. And neural feedback from the android would ensure a realistic experience for the operator.

Unfortunately, human-appearing skin and hair were low on the priority list. Right now, Manny did indeed resemble a mannequin more than anything else. No hair, pale plastic-texture skin, and gray, staring eyes. According to the specs, facial muscle control was still a little spotty. I had a quick glance at the Deficiencies List.

Well, Bill had said it was a prototype.