We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

And that’s the idea behind panspermia. I’ve been asked many times why panspermia isn’t just another layer of turtles. People have commented that moving the creation of the basic building blocks of life from Earth to space just adds a step and doesn’t make their creation any easier to explain. Yet in fact, it does. We’ve detected the basic building blocks of RNA and DNA in space. Conditions are ideal. The raw materials are there, the energy is there, and the components can come together through simple Brownian motion without requiring a solvent.

… Dr. Steven Carlisle, from the Convention panel Exploring the Galaxy

I leaned back in my La-Z-Boy, enjoying the moment. The fire crackled and popped in a very realistic manner. Spike had abandoned me to curl up on the bear skin rug in front of the fireplace. Books lined the shelves, floor to ceiling, and I even had a wheeled ladder to reach the upper levels.

I cradled a coffee in my hands as I examined the hologram floating in front of me. The image depicted a cubic kilometer of space, located on the inside edge of the inner asteroid belt and centered on the Heaven-1.

The area was a beehive of activity. Five version-2 HEAVEN vessels were under construction, one of which was a trade-up for me. The new designs included a bigger reactor and drive, a rail-gun, storage and launch facilities for busters, replicant systems with twice the capacity of version one, more room for storing roamers and mining drones, and more cargo capacity in general.

The manufacturing systems cranked out parts as fast as the roamers could feed in the raw ore. Other roamers gathered the parts and assembled the ships. Two large reactors supplied power for all the equipment. A couple of smaller printer operations cranked out more roamers and the components for more ship-busters. I had considered using explosive warheads, but I had an aversion to anything that included the word “explosive.”

I looked over at the corner of the holoview where the space station was shown. Part of the mission instructions included a directive to build an automated station with powerful interstellar communications capability in every system I visited. Its first task would be to send an encrypted status report back to Earth, and all the planetary surveys that I’d just completed. After that, depending on whether or not the system was a viable colonization target, it would act as a beacon and communications relay for me and any incoming colonists from Earth, and later as an in-system communications hub. It would be ‘staffed’ with an AMI and would have its own limited manufacturing capability.

Mind you, all that presupposed that Earth still harbored a technological civilization. Sooner or later, one of me was going to have to go back and check it out.

So far, I hadn’t picked up any radio transmissions from Sol directed at me. But realistically, I didn’t expect any. The point of the HEAVEN project was for information to flow from me to them. There would be no conversations, certainly not with a 10.5-year wait, each way.

I glanced over at Guppy, who hadn’t moved since the last time I had asked a question. Definitely not a sparkling conversationalist. So back to my earlier question. I’m giving version-2 Guppy enough memory space to potentially develop a personality matrix. Am I asking for trouble?

“Status on my favorite subjects?”

Guppy blinked once.

[HEAVEN 2 through 5: 90% complete. 5 days to completion]

[Replicant matrices for HEAVEN 2 through 5: Two are complete, two are thirty hours from completion]

[Heaven-1A: Undergoing final tests. Pass/fail decision within 24 hours]

[Relay station: 40% complete. Two months to completion]

“Okay, good. In three days, we can activate the other me’s. They’ll have complete ability to control the work in the yard, right?”

[Replicant matrices have complete GUPPI systems built in]

In a couple more days, I’ll have to start thinking of myself as Bob-1. I looked at the bulbous nose of Heaven-1A. Painted on the side, in pigments embedded right into the composite carbon-lattice shell, was a picture of a Brazilian probe with a big red X through it. This would be my new ship. The other Bobs would be free to decorate their vessels as they saw fit.

As that thought went through my mind, I once again felt a jolt of anxiety. Creating more HEAVEN vessels was part of the mission profile, but the process of creating new Bobs would reignite that whole internal debate about who or what I was. I would load backups of myself into the new vessels. Would they be me, or would they be someone else?

There would have to be rules. Some standards, so that things wouldn’t descend into chaos. First, each copy would have to come up with a new first name, to emphasize the fact that they were not me. Second, the most senior Bob in any system would be in charge. I stared into space for a few milliseconds, trying to think of any more items. Nothing came to mind.

I nodded to myself, then started the backup process.

***

I snapped back to full consciousness. The backup process, as always, felt like the closest thing to sleep that I had experienced since being reborn in the 22nd century. I activated my VR out of habit before getting on with the day’s business. But instead of my rich, detailed library, I found myself in a blue room. With no window. And a hard, indeterminate floor.

Uh oh. I queried my serial number.

[HIC16537-1]

Built in Epsilon Eridani. The Hipparcos Catalog number made that clear. I’m a copy of a copy. Crap.

It felt like New Handeltown all over again. Once again, I was waking up to find I wasn’t who I thought. I tried to console myself by noting that I was still a replicant, just a different one. It didn’t help as much as it should have. Ṙ𝘼NȱΒÈS

Well, there was no point in sitting around getting all bent out of shape.

“Guppy?”

[GUPPI Ready]

“Page Bob-1, please.” I expected this conversation to be a little surreal.

[Bob-1 online]

“Hey there, this is Bob-1, otherwise known as Bob.”

I took a moment to savor the unexpected feeling of joy from hearing another human voice. Even if it was, technically, mine.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” I replied. “I’ll decide on my new name forthwith. Are the others up yet?”

“No, I want to bring you guys online one at a time. They’ll be coming up over the next hour. Meanwhile, will you be okay to take over manufacturing oversight? I need to put on my new body. The sooner I can get this done, the sooner I can get on with things.”

I reflexively tried to glance at Guppy, but I hadn’t set up my own VR yet. “No prob. Let me just confirm with Guppy, er, GUPPI, then we’ll handshake over control to me.”

“Thanks, Two. See you in the funny papers.”

***

I snapped back to full consciousness. I queried my serial number.

[SOL-1]

“Guppy?”

[Transfer of replicant hardware to your new ship is complete. You are now Heaven-1A]

“Wooh! Good.” I couldn’t really imagine what it would be like to wake up and discover that I wasn’t Bob any more. Probably a little surreal.

I activated my VR and found myself in my La-Z-Boy, with Spike in my lap, and Jeeves holding out a coffee.

“Ah, home… Guppy, everyone okay and up to speed?”

[Heaven-2 is monitoring the manufacturing systems. Heaven 3 through 5 are preparing for a shakedown cruise. They waited to be sure that your transfer was successful]

“I appreciate that. Message them that they can take off whenever they want, and to get lots of pictures.”

***

[There is a problem]

“Huh? Whazzup?”

[Heaven-3 reports an issue with SUDDAR. Emitter flaws are resulting in a much weaker ping]

“Crap. Put us on conference.”

There was a momentary delay, before the other Bobs came online.

“Bob-3 here. Call me Bill.”

“Bob-4 here.”

“Hi guys. Uh, Bill? Really?”

“As in Bill D. Cat.”

“That makes sense. We always liked Bill the Cat.”

Bob-4 chimed in, “Okay, call me Milo for now. Not my first choice, but we’ve got other fish to fry.”

“Watch it buddy, Guppy is listening.”

Milo and Bill laughed, and I continued, “So, Bill, what’s the issue?”

“Erm, looks like the emitter is defective. The SUDDAR ping I’m sending out is about 20% of what it should be.”

“That’s no good. You won’t be able to see fifty feet.” I thought for a moment. “Guppy, get Bob-2 on the phone.”

“I’m already on.”

“Oh, good. Two, could you hand off manufacturing to Bill? He can take over supervision while his emitter gets replaced.”

“No prob.”

With a jerk, I looked around. “Where’s Bob-5?”

“I’m here.”

“Oh, uh, you couldn’t talk before?”

“Didn’t have anything to say.”

Okay. Not a talker, I guess.

“Got a name?”

“Mario.”

Definitely not a talker. Interesting. Five milliseconds in, and we already sounded different.

“Guys, I guess we need to talk about what each of us is going to do from here. So, let’s start things rolling. Two, you got any preferences?”

“Call me Riker,” Bob-2 said.

“Riker? Oh, number two.” The First Officer of the Enterprise had been referred to as Number One on the show. It had taken me perhaps five seconds to start calling him number two. Hey, I’ve already said I’m not mature.

Bill said, “I guess telling jokes will become a lost art, unless we can find someone who doesn’t know our material.”

Guppy shook his head in disgust.

As we’d been talking, video windows for the other Bobs had popped into my VR, floated in the air above my desk. Each had chosen a different VR environment, visible in the background. Four copies of my face gazed back at me.

Riker, wearing a red uniform, appeared to be sitting on the bridge of a spaceship. I spared a moment to be thankful he’d skipped the beard, then I rolled my eyes at him. “Because that wasn’t predictable or anything.”

Riker shrugged, not cracking so much as a smile. “I had to have something. Might as well be this, then I can stop worrying about it.” He leaned forward on the arm of the captain’s chair and gestured at the hologram of EE-2 that I had put up. “The planet’s not really move-in-ready. I’m not sure if Earth will bother sending a colony ship here, unless there are no other alternatives.”

“I dunno about that.” Milo sat in an easy chair, nursing a coffee. In the background, clouds floated by. “From everything Dr. Landers said, this is as much about political one-upmanship and military strategy as any real desire to seed the stars. I think they’ll send at least a garrison to the first habitable planet we report, just so they can say they’re first. And to claim the system, of course. I don’t think we count toward that.”

“There’s the question of cost, though. Even with cheap fusion power and 3D printers, you still need raw materials. And in the solar system, they’re not free for the taking. Nations won’t just throw together a colony ship on a whim.” Riker squinted and frowned. “Hey Milo, what’s your VR?”

Milo looked behind himself, then smiled at Riker. “Airship. Sort of. Flash-Gordon-style floating platform, anyway. I’m over the Amazon basin right now.”

The others nodded in appreciation. I looked over at Mario, who just had a gray background. I raised an eyebrow at him and received no reaction.

I found myself slightly unnerved by that, so I turned back to the conversation. “Yeah, yeah. So, the question is: do we care? About Earth’s intentions, I mean.”

“You mean as in, why don’t we just take off and do what we want?” Riker shrugged. “We could, since we’ve removed all the booby-traps and imperatives and stuff…”

I leaned forward to get attention. “I mean that this is the first time since I woke up that I have unconstrained choices. Up until now, I’ve been reacting to events, following orders, avoiding being blown up, and generally being a good little robot. Medeiros is taken care of—at least this iteration of him; my survey report is on its way back to Earth; and I’ve built you guys. I’ve performed my duties, even though I didn’t have to. Now, I—we—can do whatever we want. Take off for parts unknown, hang around and build stuff, or just play with the VR.”

Bill cut in. “Naw, I may not have to do what they wanted, but this is an interesting job, and I like the idea of humanity spreading out a little. Assuming they’re still around.” He put his hands behind his head and stretched. He appeared to be sitting in an Adirondack chair, in the shade of a large tree. “Besides, exactly what is the point of going out and doing all that exploring if no one is going to benefit from it?”

Riker nodded an acknowledgement to Bill. “Hmm, yeah, there’s that, too. Someone should go back and see what happened.”

“Boring…”

“And someone should go looking for the other probes, especially the other Brazilian one.”

“Scary…”

“Thanks for that in-depth analysis, Milo.” Riker rolled his eyes.

Milo smiled and performed a bow on-screen.

“Okay, so, possible tasks are: exploratory mission to Earth; hunt other probes—we might want to do those in pairs; finish the space station; and take off to explore strange new worlds and seek out new civilizations.” Bill finished ticking the points off on his fingers and looked around the table.

I held up a hand and began to tick off more items, touching my thumb to a different finger for each. “Also, we could do a little early terraforming on EE-2, like sending a few Kuiper objects inward to increase the size of the oceans. Or one of us could stay here and keep building Bobs. Turn this system into a Bob factory. There’s plenty of ore available in the inner belt.”

“What, sit in one system, when there’s a whole galaxy out there?” Mario smirked. “Good luck getting a volunteer for that.”

“Actually, I’m thinking of doing it,” Bill said.

“What? Why?” Milo asked.

Bill made an offhand gesture. “Because of my earlier problem with the bad emitter. Interesting thing, when I was transmitting those weak pings, I think I was actually able to get a much higher range. Low sensitivity but really long distances. The libraries have very little on any research on subspace not related to the interstellar effort, but there’s some indication that the formula for signal attenuation varies with signal strength.”

“So…” I cocked my head at Bill.

“So, I think I’ll stay here, monitor for any signals from Earth—this is the first place they’d transmit to if they’re still around—maybe do some light terraforming work on EE-2…” Bill flashed a smile. “… I think I’ll name it Ragnarök, since I’m going to be dropping icebergs on it. And I’ll try to work out some actual subspace theory. It was our second choice for career, right? Theoretical Physics?”

I laughed. “Yeah, just doesn’t pay very well. Uh, didn’t.”

Bill leaned forward. “Funny thing. I know how much you want to get out there and explore, because I remember the feeling of excitement and anticipation. But I find myself more interested in setting up here and doing some research. Is that weird?”

The rest of us glanced around at each other. There were a few shrugs, but no one seemed to have a comment.

Riker looked from face to face. “So, Bill will stay and run the shop. What about Medeiros, then?”

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “Go on a snipe hunt? We don’t even know where the second Brazilian ship went. And we know even less about any USE or Chinese ships. I think the only thing we can do on that front is to be better armed and ready to defend ourselves, then basically outbreed them.”

“What about visiting the Earth system?” Riker looked at me with an arched eyebrow.

“Are you volunteering?”

Riker shrugged. “I could do a fly-by. What concerns me is whether they have military craft buzzing around that would chase anything that comes into Sol’s system. But if I never come in closer than the Kuiper belt, I should still be able to pick up radio traffic. Or, I could spend some time getting prepared, then mount a better expedition. I think Bill mentioned working in pairs. Milo, want to take a trip?”

Milo looked surprised for a moment. “Not on your life. I have no interest in knowing what happened, especially if it means going back into missile range. Once was enough, thanks.”

“Seriously?” Riker stared at Milo, the beginning of a glare forming. “I’m supposed to go in alone?”

Milo pointed at his own face. “See this? This is the expression of not caring. If you feel the need, build a copy of you. I’m going thataway.” He waved a hand vaguely outward.

Bill and I exchanged looks, and I realized that one question had just been answered. We weren’t clones. I noted that Riker hadn’t asked Mario, and Mario hadn’t volunteered. Mario seemed to have gotten a double dose of my antisocial tendencies.

Riker, meanwhile, looked like he was about to explode. I quickly changed the subject. “One other thing. I was pretty pissed to realize that I couldn’t do anything but an orbital survey of EE-2, er, Ragnarök. I’d like to have landers of some kind for close examination of candidate planets. We can all think on this but maybe Bill can make it a research project while he works in-system.”

Riker nodded, and his expression cleared. Crisis averted.

“Okay, then,” I decided to wrap things up. “Let’s decide on system destinations, and then we can get this show on the road.” I directed a significant glance toward Bill. He seemed to be the most similar to me in behavior. We would have to discuss this privately.

***

“So what was that all about, do you suppose?”

Bill shrugged. “Riker says he’s going to do what Milo said and build a copy. But really, Bob, is Milo’s reaction that out there?”

“No, I guess not. I’m kind of ambivalent, myself, about going back. I think it’s the way Riker and Milo seemed to immediately butt heads that’s got me a little weirded out.” I flashed a quick smile. “And Mario, well, he makes Guppy look like a social butterfly. Creepy.”

I leaned back in my chair and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I’ll have to give it a good think before I build another cohort, to be honest.”

Bill shrugged. “Dunno, Bob. It’s one thing to talk about years of solitude, another thing to actually experience it. I bet you’ll build a new cohort eventually. I know I’ll be building someone pretty fast to help me out here.”

“I won’t take that bet. You’re probably right. But I’ll worry about it when I need to. I guess I’m just a little creeped out at how everyone’s a variation on me.”

“What makes you think that?” Bill looked at me with an amused expression.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“What makes you think we’re variations on you? Are you positive that you’re identical to original Bob? Maybe we—including you—are all variations on him.”

I was stunned into silence. It had never occurred to me that I might be different from original Bob. I mean, I was me, right? The whole soliloquy back on Earth about my status came back and yawned under me like a bottomless pit.

No. I’m not going to go down that way. Whether or not I’m original Bob, I’m original me.

“Fine, Bill.” I sighed. “As soon as you invent a time machine, we’ll go check it out. Meanwhile, I think Milo and Mario have picked destination systems and are about ready to take off. I guess it’s time for the going-away party.”

Bill nodded and we rejoined the group.