We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Bobiverse Book 1)

by Dennis E. Taylor

  And we had a new weapon in reserve, courtesy of Bill’s Skunk Works.

  We deliberately came in from stellar north, at right angles to the plane of the ecliptic. While we didn’t expect Medeiros to be a “two-dimensional thinker”—he was after all, military—we did expect his assets to be mostly along the ecliptic. Our probes should be able to fall through that plane before he could react.

  We launched the scouts across a broad front, to get the best overall scan of the system. With no radio emissions and a heavily shielded reactor, there was a good chance most of them would go right through undetected. However, there was no way we were going to get away clean. Our hope was that if Medeiros detected only one or two probes, he would conclude that there was only one Bob out here.

  I sent out a meeting invitation to the rest of the squad. Within milliseconds, seven Bobs popped into my VR.

  I looked around the table. “Strategy session, boys.”

  Hannibal accepted a coffee from Jeeves as he popped up a system schematic. “We will watch for anything hiding behind moons or planets. Not falling for that trick twice. We’ve got a good idea of where things are, thanks to Milo’s preliminary report. We’ll—”

  Abruptly, Hannibal disappeared from the VR. We looked at each other in shock, then as one we abandoned our VRs and went into frame-jack.

  “Who’s physically closest to Hannibal?” I posed the question in reflex, although I was already checking our deployment diagram. Hannibal was at the end of the line of Bobs, with Tom next to him. “Tom, got a SUDDAR reading?”

  Tom’s reponse came back after a millisecond. “I have a very diffuse SUDDAR reading, but no Hannibal. Hold on—”

  We waited for an eternal four milliseconds for Tom to continue. “—The diffuse area is spreading and thinning. I’m guessing an explosion of some kind. Everyone might want to do a full sweep, and hang the surprise factor.”

  I decided that was a good idea, and I cranked my SUDDAR up to full power, going for a three-light-hour full-spherical ping. The response was negative, except for a vagueness—like a shadow seen out of the corner of your eye—in the direction of the system. I refocused and sent a tight-beam ping in that direction.

  Paydirt. “Something is headed our way, guys, at very high speed. And it’s cloaked, or shielded, or something, to the point that I could only see it when I was pinging straight at it.”

  Grunts from a few of the others acknowledged the information.

  “I’ve got one, too,” Barney reported.

  “Same,” from Tom.

  It took a few milliseconds to compare notes, and we realized that three unidentified objects were heading our way, and still accelerating. We launched three of our regular probes directly at them, to try to get a visual.

  “They’re dodging,” Fred said. “I think they’re expecting the probe to try to ram.”

  “Well, not a bad idea if we can manage it,” I responded, “but first we want telemetry.”

  It took a little over fifteen minutes, at the combined velocities of the probes and the approaching objects, for them to pass each other. The incoming bogey was still dodging back and forth. The probes were only able to get a frame or two of poor images as they passed by, but they managed full SUDDAR scans.

  As the results popped up over our desks, courtesy of SCUT instantaneous communications, there were gasps.

  “Nuclear freaking bombs. He’s built fission weapons.”

  “With shielded reactors and very, very large SURGE drives,” Fred added.

  “That jibes with the readings I’ve been getting. I think Hannibal is just a radioactive cloud, now,” Tom said. “We are screwed.”

  “My ass,” I retorted. “How long do we have until they’re close enough to be able to take us out? Tom, do you have a feel for the megatonnage?”

  There was a moment of silence, before Tom popped up a sensor readout in our VRs. Because we were still in frame-jack, it wasn’t even paper—just a raw window with a data listing. “Here’s the minmax analysis. We’ve got four minutes—an eternity. No chance to dodge, given their speed and spread. We don’t have time to get outside the blast radii.”

  “So,” Kyle said. “Medeiros seems to have set this up well. He probably thinks he’s outflanked us, but good.”

  I smiled at Kyle’s dry delivery. “Mmm-hmm. Okay, let’s melt them down. Two Bobs per bomb, and I’ll add a follow-up shot if needed. Everyone acknowledge when charged.”

  We were about to roll out our secret weapon. Bill had taken the light-saber tech, which was essentially a high-temperature ionized plasma in a magnetic bottle, and used it to build something new. He found a way to project the plasma, and the magnetic field with it, like a torpedo. The result was a million-degree, highly-charged spear that splashed against whatever it ran into and generally melted right through it, while delivering a very localized EMP. The weapon had been tested extensively at Epsilon Eridani, but this would be the first real-world use.

  When everyone indicated a full charge, I said, “Fire.”

  Six plasma spikes shot out at close to light-speed. One of the biggest advantages to this weapon was that it was invisible to SUDDAR, since there was very little actual mass involved. And any other form of detection was limited by light-speed. The plasma spikes couldn’t follow a dodging target, but the target wouldn’t know they were coming until they arrived.

  It took only moments for the spikes to cross the distance, and all three shadows disappeared. Full-on SUDDAR pings, at the narrowest and most intense setting, detected nothing but small fragmentary blips.

  Ned spoke for all of us. “Well, that was unsettling.”

  Fred added, “We were barely able to detect those things at all, and even that only because of Bill’s SUDDAR improvements. Did Medeiros invent some kind of SUDDAR cloaking?”

  “I doubt it,” I answered. “He never struck us as anything but career military. I think it’s more likely that the Brazilian Empire had this tech developed back on Earth. They may have uploaded all their top-secret military tech to him before sending him out. That would explain the nukes, too.”

  “So this might not be the last surprise.”

  A round of curses and grunts answered that statement.

  There was silence for a few moments before Ned spoke up again. “I guess we need to have another strategy session.”

  ***

  “Cloaking?” Bill’s face was a study in surprised interest.

  “Yup. That’s the only explanation we can come up with.” I replayed the entire sequence for him in a window, including popups of the sensor readings of the bombs.

  “Well, crap. See if you can grab a sample or something. Meanwhile, I’ll work on it from this end. I guess the element of surprise is gone, though.” Bill gave me an informal salute and disappeared.

  Great. Eight of us—no, seven, now—against an unknown number and disposition of Medeiri. I did not like the odds.

  “Meeting!” I called out.

  Six other Bobs popped into my VR.

  “Bill didn’t have much for us. He pointed out, quite correctly, that if we leave now with the intention of coming back, Medeiros will be even more prepared for us. He suggests we get our backups up to date and dive in.”

  “Easy for him to say.” That was from Elmer, who had never been particularly enthusiastic about this venture. I think maybe quantum differences had left him a little light in the spine department. I was reminded of Bill Paxton’s character in Aliens.

  I glared at Elmer for a second, then continued. “We have the plasma spikes, and we have the busters, with the new controlled fusion detonation. It’s not a lot. Best we can do, I think, is raise some hell before he takes us out. Make sure your dead-mans are in order, do a differential, and kiss your asses goodbye. We’re going in.”

  With that, the Bobs disappeared from my VR, seven ships turned toward the center of the system, and we began to accelerate in at 10 g.

  ***

  The first part of our dive
into the inner system was relatively easy. Medeiros was still working on the assumption that we all had the same SUDDAR, and that he could see anything we launched at him. By the time we’d destroyed a half-dozen of his flying bombs, I guess he finally got the memo.

  SUDDAR area pings showed everything with a SURGE drive scattering in all directions. At the same time, over a hundred fusion sources lit up the area and started to move. Decoys, I guess. Effective, too. We had no way to know which ones were real targets.

  “Meeting!”

  As soon as the other Bobs showed up, I started. “Okay, some of these fusions sources are decoys. Probably most. But some will be Medeiri, and some will be weapons. And there will be cloaked bombs as well. Suggestions?”

  Elmer spoke up first, which surprised me.

  “The bombs need to be within a certain distance to do any harm. If we move as a unit and assign certain Bobs to watching for the cloaked devices, we should be able to prevent any from getting too close.”

  “And,” Fred cut in, “if we destroy any decoys that get within that range as well, we might be okay.”

  “Certainly better than splitting up,” I conceded. “But the plasma spikes are only useful until Medeiros figures it out and starts jinking around. Plus, recharging the spike cannons takes time. They aren’t like Hollywood six-shooters.”

  “Then we need to do as much damage as possible before he figures it out,” Tom said decisively. “Let’s just start blasting. Maybe no plan will throw him off a bit.”

  That was just stupid enough to be brilliant. We looked at each other wordlessly, nodded, and got to work.

  It became a game of cat and mouse. Medeiros knew that we had something that could destroy his units without warning. He may have thought it was a cloaked missile. He reacted by scattering his units and using the decoys to distract us. We destroyed many units, but had no idea if we were destroying anything useful.

  Finally came the moment we’d been dreading. One of Medeiros’s units dodged several plasma spikes and managed to get within detonation range. Barely. The resulting EMP and blast of radiation played hell with internal systems for a few moments. Fortunately the version-3 Heavens had multiple redundancies. Five of us were able to continue. The other two must have lost too much functionality. Their dead-mans activated and they disappeared in reactor overload. I hoped Fred and Jackson’s backups were recent and complete.

  But Medeiros must have twigged to the fact that our weapon didn’t chase its target. In the time that it took him to send out commands at light-speed, every Medeiros-controlled unit in the system was bearing down on us, jinking like crazy.

  “Plan B, guys. Split up and do as much damage as possible.”

  We headed off in random directions, jinking as well.

  While we ran, I did an analysis from the recorded telemetry of Medeiros’s change in tactics. His units were given orders via radio. The ones closest to Medeiros would have started the new tactic first, followed by units farther away as the signal spread from the center. The center, of course, was Medeiros.

  It took about forty milliseconds to determine where he must be, to within a few thousand km. That was too large an area for random plasma spike shots, but not too large for intelligent busters on a mission. I transmitted the coordinates to the other Bobs, and we simultaneously launched every buster we had. At the same time, we all activated SUDDAR jamming at maximum intensity. Everyone in the system was now blind, except for traditional visual and radar. The trick would be to keep it going until—

  Hector and Tom’s SCUT signals cut off without warning. I felt a pang of sorrow. They’d almost certainly been caught by a nuke. That left three of us, plus whatever busters were still going. I kept spiking fusion sources as best I could. The AMI pilots tended to be a little predictable. Many of them settled into a pattern of dodges that I could predict after several iterations.

  Then Barney dropped out. That left just Elmer and me. I had to give him credit. Now that things had hit the fan, he was no longer whining about the danger. I mentally upgraded him to Michael Biehn.

  Two nukes went off around me almost at the same time. They must have been a little impatient, or saw their solution deteriorating, because the distance was a little too great for annihilation. Not too great for damage, though. I was dead in the water for several minutes while Guppy scrambled the roamers to replace or reroute systems.

  “You okay, Khan?” It was Elmer, checking up on me.

  “A little damage. Roamers are on it. Don’t try to cover me. We don’t want to present a single target.”

  “No problem, dude. Having some fun of my own over here…”

  [SURGE drive online]

  That’s what I wanted to hear.

  I jammed the gas pedal all the way down to emergency level, and shot away at 15 g. I wasn’t able to keep that up long, but it saved my bacon, as another nuke went off behind me, just out of range.

  Finally, just when I had about decided I’d had enough excitement for the century, the busters converged on the point in space where we believed Medeiros to be. Remote telemetry showed forty-four busters bearing down on three Brazilian probes. The Medeiri must have finally gotten a visual warning, because they turned and scattered. But it was far too late. At least half of the busters made contact of some kind before there wasn’t anything left that was big enough to register as a target.

  Just one small problem. Destroying Medeiros didn’t deactivate his units. We were still being chased by dozens of fusion signatures, at least some of which were real threats.

  “Got any ideas, Elmer?”

  “How’s your equipment, Khan?”

  “Well, I’m going to need new underwear, but I’m still running.”

  “I’m not so good. My SURGE has gone intermittent, and I don’t have time or parts to fix it.”

  Elmer was silent for a moment, and sympathy and sadness washed over me. He was screwed, and we both knew it.

  “I’ve updated a differential to Bill, so to quote the Celine Dion song—”

  “Oh, please don’t, Elmer.”

  He laughed. “Gotcha. So you turn off your SUDDAR jamming and run silent out of here. I’ll keep blinding everyone until the last moment. Give Bill my regards.”

  “Will do, buddy. Sayonara.”

  “Hasta la vista, baby.”

  I did as he said. Once my SUDDAR emitter went silent, the Brazilian units locked onto the only bright source of SUDDAR in the area. As I ran from the area, Elmer’s relayed telemetry showed close to fifty units converging. Then he was gone.

  ***

  I coasted for two weeks to get far enough away from 82 Eridani before I reactivated all systems. I had given a full report to Bill, and I spent the time doing more thorough repairs. The last thing I needed was equipment failure halfway between stars.

  Of the eight Bobs that went to 82 Eridani, I was the only one left. I think we took the Medeiri out, so I guess it was a success from that point of view. But I couldn’t convince myself that the whuppin’ had all been one-way.

  I popped into Bill’s VR. “Hey, Bill.”

  “Hi, Khan.” Bill gave a flash of a smile. “I still can’t say that without wanting to yell it.”

  We shared the standard laugh. Good names were getting a little scarce, and I was glad to have picked one that had some nerd lore behind it.

  “Did we get all the backups?”

  Bill shook his head, looking unhappy. “Three didn’t complete. SCUT bandwidth just isn’t dependable enough. Lots of dropped packets and re-sends. I’ve added them to the In Memorium list.”

  “Elmer?”

  Bill smiled, a small sad smile. “He made it. Guess he surprised all of us, right?”

  I nodded, and let the silence extend for a few milliseconds.

  “We’re going to have to go back, you know.”

  Bill nodded. “We don’t know for sure that we got all the Medeiri, even if we got all the active ones. And those AMI units will still be wandering around, l
ooking for things to blow up.” Bill waved a hand. “And, not to put too fine a point on it, I have to find out how he’s doing that cloaking. That’s a real danger to us.”

  I rubbed my chin in thought for a second, then looked at my hand in amusement. We Bobs were so used to VR now that we felt fully human most of the time. But once in a while the incongruousness of an action would jerk one of us back to reality.

  “Bill, I want to be in on the next wave. I owe that to the guys we lost. It will take me thirteen years to get back, so load my backup into one of the new ships. I’ll send you a full, and let me know if it comes through, okay?”

  Bill nodded.

  I gave him a salute and disappeared from his VR.

  Medeiros, I’m coming back for you.

  Howard – September 2188 – Omicron2 Eridani

  We’d arrived.

  I can’t even begin to describe the feelings of joy and relief as I passed the Kuiper belt and officially entered the Omicron2 Eridani system. No Vulcan cruisers flew up to intercept us, so I added a few to my VR. Just because.

  I did a quick scan of the system to confirm Milo’s survey results and verify our orientation to the ecliptic plane. The two colony ships, Bert and Ernie—yeah, they named themselves that, yes, voluntarily—came into the system at a much more sedate 1 g deceleration. They would arrive at Vulcan and Romulus a week or two behind me.

  I’d been thinking off and on about what it would be like to be a colony ship. The guys would be essentially running a shuttle service for up to a couple of centuries. Fly to Earth, fly to Vulcan. Fly to Earth, fly somewhere else. Rinse, repeat. On the other hand, they were doing a very valuable service for humanity. Any Bob could appreciate that.

  And with our arrival, humanity now officially no longer had all its eggs in one basket. Now perhaps we could start to think about breathing a little easier. But just a little.

  I dropped into the L4 point between Vulcan and Romulus and dropped a beacon. We would set up there to do initial recon and to give Colonel Butterworth and his people a chance to make a decision. Since I had ten days or so to kill, I send some exploration drones to each planet to expand on Milo’s survey information. Then I settled back with a cup of coffee to relax.