We Are Legion (We Are Bob)
Book 4: Chapter 29: Dodging

Bob

September 2334

Garack’s Spine

I got almost an entire block before I picked up a new set of pursuers. Six masked Quinlans turned and started after me as I ran past them. I heard the puff sound of trank guns being fired, but oddly didn’t feel any impacts or hear the ping of fléchettes bouncing off things. How bad was their shooting, anyway?

I turned an eyeball to look behind me, trying desperately not to fall flat on my face from the dual images coming in. I handed off the running activity to the internal AMI for a moment and concentrated on the view to the rear.

It would appear that the Resistance was involved. Two of the six Quinlans behind me were down on the ground, having been shot, and the other four were shooting back at something out of sight. I guess this was good to a certain extent, but in this case the enemy of my enemy was still my enemy. I wondered briefly how they managed to tell each other apart.

But only briefly, and I didn’t let it distract me from the serious business of getting the hell out of there.

I hit the edge of town and ran into the forest without breaking stride. I didn’t know what tracking options they’d have. I could lower my body temperature once I stopped generating heat from exertion. I could turn off my scent; I performed the action as soon as I thought of it. I couldn’t camouflage myself, not like the drones, but I could blend in with the forest when I stopped moving. I was, after all, brown.

I had to make my way to the station, but I didn’t have to take the direct route. Did the Quinlans know, or suspect, that I couldn’t go by water? If not, they’d have to guard the river and stream approaches as well.

But I couldn’t afford to stop moving near the town. If they formed a search cordon, they’d flush me out. And going into hiding wasn’t to my advantage. I had to get out of Heaven’s River.

I kept up the pace as long as I could, but eventually my heads-up started flashing warnings about overheating. It was okay, though. I was several miles out of town by this point, and the Quinlans would take twice the time to catch up with me, even if they knew exactly where I was.

I sat down, took the trank gun out of my mouth, and began taking deep lungfuls of air. I didn’t need the oxygen, but each breath carried away some waste heat. After a bit of fiddling, I found I could jam the gun into a webbing pocket on the side of the backpack. It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t care at this point if someone saw that I was carrying a Crew weapon.

Time to take stock.

“Hugh, what’s your situation?”

“They’ve put me in manacles and commandeered a wagon. The howns were groggy but not unconscious. They’re bellowing up a storm of protest but doing what they’re told.”

“Where are you heading?”

“Looks like the eastern station. I imagine I’ll be going for a ride to meet someone.”

“Okay, keep me updated.”

He would keep for a while.

“Bill, what’s the situation?”

“Just ended a moot. We had a talk with Starfleet. It was unsatisfying, let’s say. Resolved nothing.

“Wow, that must have been interesting. Kind of sorry I missed it.”

“You can read the transcripts. Meanwhile, I’ve been bringing myself up to date on your blog. Bender still okay?”

“Matrix still in one piece as far as I know. I just don’t know how much jostling these things can take. It’s not really part of the specs, y’know?”

“Yeah, got it buddy. Well, take it easy. Hopefully we’ll be able to talk later with a little less stress.”

And that was that. I didn’t have an excuse to call Will or Howard—or even Marvin or Luke. With an internal sigh, I glanced at my heads-up. Temps were down to something reasonable, although not yet baseline. But I could travel as long as I was relaxed about it. Time to go. ʀÁƝꝋᛒЕS̈

The rest of the trip to the station was uneventful. I did half-expect Quinlans to jump out from behind trees, especially as I got close, but Quinlans weren’t forest creatures by nature. I imagined that being in the trees and away from water would make them nervous.

Finally, I could see the transit station through a gap in the forest. With freedom this close, I had to fight an urge to just break into a run. In any case, I wouldn’t be going in through the front door. Or the maintenance door. Fortunately I had the hatch that Gandalf had—uh-oh.

A squad of Quinlans stood around the area of the hatch, holding shovels and discussing. Our secret entrance had been found. This was just getting worse and worse. I was literally a stone’s throw from getting out, and every damned Quinlan on the planet had decided to show up here.

But maybe they’d left the maintenance door open? Or maybe I could sneak in somehow. I didn’t see any alternatives. Taking care to avoid rustling the foliage, I snuck around to the other side of the station. I arrived just as a Quinlan pressed her card against the reader and walked in through the maintenance door. I was too far to grab it before it closed, and anyway that would be bad strategy until I knew more. But Quinlans were coming and going, and they had security cards. One way or another, I was going to make that work for me.

I watched carefully, waiting for a moment when no one was in sight. I untangled the trank gun from my pack, then crept up to the maintenance door. There was no discernable sound from the inside, but the wall construction was pretty thick. I might be able to peer through the front windows to see if anyone was in the lobby. And maybe, just maybe I had enough fleas left to jimmy the lock.

Without warning, the door burst open, and a gaggle of Quinlans poured out, trank guns drawn.

I stared at the guns pointed in my direction. Crew or Resistance? At this point, it didn’t matter. Both groups were after me. This bunch was standing between me and the way out, and I decided I had just about had it. This was the time for a brute force response. I could take fléchettes in the chest without critical damage, Bender’s matrix was shielded by my body, and I had a full magazine. I was simply going to keep shooting them until I was the last man standing.

I straightened up, trank gun held out before me, and advanced on the group. This caused some consternation, as several of them glanced backward with one eye to see if they were being snuck up on, and the rest settled into firing positions.

Then one of the Quinlans held up a hand and yelled, “Hold on.” He cupped the other over his ear. I wasn’t sure if he was gesturing at me or at his comrades. Judging from the expressions on their faces, they weren’t sure either.

The whole situation was straight out of a comic book. The battle was on hold while someone answered the phone. And it was definitely some kind of communication device, because the conversation was two-way. The Quinlan would talk, then listen, then talk. A couple of times he rolled his eyes.

I realized I was in an untenable position, strategically. While I stared at the guy on the phone, other Quinlans could be—

“Oof,” I said, as some number of Quinlans landed on me. I found myself face down on the ground, my arms and legs pinned by the weight of many bodies. My fault. A Quinlan would have used his mobile eyes to occasionally check for threats from behind. With my human background, I tended to look in one direction at a time.

I fought back, but I was terrified that Bender might be damaged in the struggle. Interestingly, my attackers seemed to be just as concerned. Their attack concentrated on immobilizing my limbs, rather than just dogpiling.

Then my backpack disappeared. I rolled my eyes back—now that it was too late—to see a Quinlan with a knife in one hand and my backpack in the other, severed straps dangling.

They had Bender. Escape was no longer an option. I stopped struggling.

No one moved for several seconds. I think they were expecting me to wait for them to relax, then try something. Not unreasonable, but I had no intention of trying to get away without Bender.

One Quinlan leaned down to place his face in my field of view. “We have the backpack with the cube. You are only a secondary target. The cube will be going to the Administrator, with or without you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said with a grim tone. I wasn’t about to volunteer any information about my motivations. I think they would assume that I’d grab Bender and run if given the chance. It didn’t need to be discussed. The spokescritter gestured, and Quinlans began slowly removing themselves from the scrum. In moments, I was technically free.

I stood and looked around. My backpack was nowhere in sight. About a dozen Quinlans surrounded me, all poised to jump me again if I acted up.

“So what now?” I said.

The leader pointed to the station door that, until a few minutes ago, I had desperately wanted to get through. “The cube will be travelling separately, to ensure that you don’t try anything.”

I felt ill. I’d lost. Four thousand miles of dodging, only to get caught at the finish line. Then I lifted my chin. It wasn’t over. They couldn’t actually kill me, and we’d be back. In numbers. With enough scanners to cover the entire topopolis, if necessary. Unless they actually disassembled the matrix …

Not bothering with a response, I marched toward the maintenance door. I would cooperate. I would even attempt to negotiate with the Administrator. But if they refused to give up Bender, they were looking at a long, drawn-out guerilla war. And that was best case.

I tried to pay attention as we marched to the train platform, but my thoughts were dark and directed inward. I barely noticed as the leader called for a train, and I didn’t bother to listen for the requested destination. In seconds, the train door whooshed open and we boarded.

The Quinlan crew continued to surround me, but they realized I wasn’t going to make a dash for it as long as they had Bender. We all took seats and the train pulled smoothly away from the station.

The leader, who had sat beside me, turned once acceleration was over. “Can you tell me why you want the cube so badly?”

I didn’t see any point in lying. And the truth might be more helpful. “It’s a friend of mine. And a relative.”

He cocked his head, a very human-looking expression. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

“You know that the Administrator is not a Quinlan, right?” I replied. He nodded, and I continued, “So intelligent beings don’t have to be flesh and blood.”

He frowned, silent for several moments. “It does explain your single-mindedness.” He got up and walked to the other end of the car. I could see that he was talking into whatever comms system he was wearing. No doubt reporting the results of our conversation. Whether that would help or hurt my cause was unknown.

The trip was surprisingly short, then we trooped along the standard station corridor. I realized quickly that this was a segment mountain complex, rather than a public station. That made sense. We’d come back to a Crew stronghold.

They brought me to what I suppose could be called a conference room. It had a table and chairs, anyway. In the middle of the table was a device that at first glance resembled a much more modern version of Motorola.

“We’re here,” the leader said into the air as we sat.

“Acknowledged,” the device replied. So, Motorola confirmed.

“Are you the Administrator?” I asked.

“I am. You may refer to me as ANEC. I have some questions for you.”

“I want my friend back.”

“An answer to a question not asked. And tritely obvious, given the energy you’ve put into avoiding us.”

“This is not negotiable.” I was mad now. I knew it, and I realized I might screw things up. I tried to reign it in.

“This is not a negotiation, so the statement is irrelevant.” Pause. “I am currently speaking with your partner, Hugh. I will compare your responses. Untruths will not be tolerated. Consequences will be significant. Remember that I possess your cube.”

Well, that was a clear threat. I briefly considered a counter-threat, but I was pretty sure that such a response would just lead to a death spiral. Still, best to check with Hugh first.

“Hugh, have you told any whoppers?”

“Nope. Stick to the truth. Trust me, Bob. This will work out.”

That at least made things a little easier. “Proceed,” I said out loud.

ANEC spent several minutes grilling me on fairly innocuous points. He was obviously just confirming the story Hugh had given him. Finally, though, the questioning got around to the important things.

“You are an interstellar species?”

“Erm, the word species is not really accurate,” I replied, “but if you’re asking if we have interstellar travel, then yes.”

“You have colonies in multiple systems?”

I considered whether I should clarify the difference between humans and Bobs, and between colonies and orbiting spacecraft. But if I understood what he was digging for, it was probably an irrelevant distinction. “Yes.”

“You are artificial intelligences?”

“We are replicants. Copies of the minds of formerly living beings.”

“The cube as well?”

“Yes.”

No response. As the silence became more drawn out, I could see my Quinlan escort getting nervous. They hadn’t said a word through the entire exchange, but now began to mutter to each other. I wasn’t sure if it was my story, or the fact that ANEC had lapsed into silence, but something was freaking them out.

The silence from ANEC continued for several minutes until the group leader finally got up and moved to the other end of the room. He held a hand to his ear and muttered into his communicator, then returned to his seat, a bemused expression on his face.

“You’ve stirred up a loroush nest of some kind,” he said to me. “ANEC basically told me to shut up and wait for orders.”

Despite the situation, despite my fear for Bender, I had to laugh. “I think that’s my superpower.”

“Do you need food? Facilities?” he said.

I shook my head. “I’m good. But if you want to lock me in a room for a while, I’m okay with that.”

I was sitting in my La-Z-Boy, mainlining my fourth or fifth coffee, when my manny forwarded an audio stream of the group leader’s voice. “Time to get up. ANEC is back.”

I quickly reconnected with my manny. The leader, who had introduced himself as Norm before they locked me in this room, was standing in the open door.

I stood up quickly. “Showtime.”

Norm frowned. “Some of the things you say don’t make sense. But I guess that’s no surprise if you’re not even Quinlan.”

“Norm, if we’d had enough time to complete our survey before starting this expedition, I wouldn’t even be saying weird things. But some of our expressions are getting translated literally.”

He shrugged, plainly not all that interested. Soon we found ourselves back in the conference room. My eyes grew wide as I walked in and saw Hugh sitting in one of the chairs.

“Hey, Bob.”

“Hugh.” I tried to keep a straight face, but I was having trouble deciding if this was a good or bad thing. “Have they been torturing you?”

He snickered. “Sort of, if you mean like my PhD oral defense. Er, yours. I mean, Original Bob’s.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I know. I remember, too. I’ve never sweated so much before or since.” I turned to Norm. “So what now?”

“Hell, I dunno. I just work here.”

Both Hugh and I chuckled in synchrony. Another universal.

Norm put his hand to his ear. It seemed likely we were about to get an answer. He nodded several times, said, “Got it,” and tapped his ear. Then he looked up at us. “Looks like you’re going home.”

Norm led Hugh and me up to the entrance to the maintenance facility. Most of my original escort came with us, although there was more of a tagging-along and less of a guarding-the-prisoner vibe this time. I noted in passing that the whole complex, including the entrance, was a virtual duplicate of the one in Halep’s Ending. I glanced around as we exited into the daylight, surrounded by forest and animal sounds. “Are we supposed to walk back to Garack’s Spine?”

Norm laughed. “No, nothing like that. ANEC told us to wait outside.” He gestured back toward the entrance. “We have to wait for Charlie to come back with your cube. We sent him off to a different location, in case things didn’t work out.”

“Makes sense. It feels like there’s a punchline coming, though.”

Norm grinned at me, then spoke into his communicator. “We’re ready.”

I barely had time to raise an inquiring eyebrow, when a giant Quinlan face appeared in the sky and started to speak. And when I say giant, I mean like what you’d imagine God would look like if he decided to address the human race. My escorts looked up as well, their jaws dropping, as the almost literal Voice of God boomed across the land.

This is ANEC 23, who many of you know as the Administrator. For more than three hundred years, I have watched over you, fulfilling my primary function of keeping the Quinlan race alive. You have lived for twenty generations in greater safety than anyone before the creation of Heaven’s River, made possible through limitations that I have imposed on your ability to control your own culture and technology.

The danger of Quinlan extinction by your own actions is now coming to an end. Through an agreement just concluded with an alien race, the BAWBES, the future of the Quinlan race is now, if not guaranteed, at least highly probable. As such, the justification for those limitations is no longer valid. There will be no further scatterings. I will be removing enforcements and opening access to interdicted sections of Heaven’s River in a phased manner, as the Quinlan species achieves locational redundancy. The era of control is over. It is time for all Quinlans to reclaim your own destiny.

To the group known as the Resistance: there is no longer any need to resist. Your assistance will be welcome in transitioning your fellow Quinlans back to a self-governing society. Please use the standard communications systems to contact me to begin discussions.

That is all.

I slowly brought my eyes down to meet Norm’s gaze. “That was … impressive.”

“That is a show of good faith on ANEC’s part. Payment in advance of value received.” Norm grinned. “Also, I think ANEC is a bit of a show-off sometimes.”

I nodded, then turned to Hugh, who appeared to be having trouble meeting my eyes.

“I guess you have some questions,” he said.

“Just possibly one or two. But let’s stick to the basics for now.”

“Okay, look. I was lucky in that the group that captured me was Crew. Things would have been a lot more complicated if they’d been Resistance. It wasn’t hard to convince them to let me talk to the Administrator. Eventually, anyway. I get the impression they’d have been happy for an excuse to dissect me. We really have been a huge pain in the ass for everyone, it seems.”

“You have no idea,” Norm muttered.

I snorted, and said to him, “Not by choice, but I guess I can see how you could see it that way.”

Hugh added an embarrassed head-bob. “So anyway, they finally introduced me to the Administrator. It was a lot like your interview.”

“Uh-huh. And?”

“We spent some time dancing around, but eventually got down to full reveals. And I made an offer that the Administrator found interesting. Once they had you, and you verified that I’d been telling the truth, ANEC decided to accept.”

“What specifically did you agree to?”

“Uh, let’s wait until we’re all back home, okay? At least now we can leave by the front door; no need to skulk.”

“It’s just letting us go? Just like that? That seems surprisingly trusting for an entity that otherwise has been very single-minded. Especially if I’m carrying something that was stolen from it. What did you give it for a guarantee?”

“I’d just as soon discuss that later, Bob. Let’s get home first.”

Well, that wasn’t ominous or anything.

Despite my misgivings, there were no gotchas. Once Charlie showed up with Bender and a new backpack, we were escorted back to the station without incident, and took the train back to Garack’s Spine. One immediate improvement that I appreciated was that we were able to make use of the proper Spin Transfer system, rather than bundling one at a time into a mining drone. The ride to the outer shell was reassuringly civilized.

During this time, the Administrator didn’t attempt to contact us, and Hugh continued to be closemouthed about details of the agreement. It made for a somewhat tense ride.

But eventually I found myself in the Heaven’s River space dock facility. Gandalf, per Hugh’s instructions, had flown the transport drone in and parked it by an airlock. Of course, there was no way our transport drone could mate up with the Quinlan technology, but it wasn’t necessary. We simply exited through an airlock and jumped through vacuum into the drone’s cargo hold.

And once Bender’s matrix and our mannies were secured, we doffed them and headed back to virt.

I was a little surprised to find myself alone. But only a little. There was something about Hugh’s reluctance to discuss things that created a feeling of impending doom in me. I was pretty sure he was going to take some time to format the information with as positive a spin as possible.

What had he committed us to? And would the Bobiverse agree to it? And would the humans go apeshit?

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