All These Worlds (Bobiverse Book 3)

  ALL THESE WORLDS

  Book 3 of the Bobiverse

  Dennis E. Taylor

  Titles by the author

  The World Lines series:

  Outland

  Earthside (coming soon)

  The Bobiverse series:

  We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

  For We Are Many

  All These Worlds

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright © 2017 by Dennis E. Taylor - All rights reserved.

  eBook edition published by Worldbuilders Press, a service of the Ethan Ellenberg Literary Agency

  Cover art by Jeff Brown

  Author Blog: www.dennisetaylor.org

  For Bill Paxton, who brought a little more humanity to some great SF movies.

  Dedication

  To my wife, Blaihin, for being okay to travel this path with me—especially the part where I retire to write full-time.

  Acknowledgements

  This has been an amazing journey. A hobby that started out as a dare has now turned into a career.

  As always, I want to acknowledge and thank the critters and beta readers who helped to make this book and series a reality.

  Thanks to:

  Members of the Ubergroup and Novel Exchange group on scribophile

  Sandra and Ken McLaren

  Nicole Hamilton

  Sheena Lewis

  Patrick Jordan

  Trudy Cochrane

  Anna Albo

  …for reading the raw draft and early versions.

  And to:

  My agent, Ethan Ellenberg

  Steve Feldberg from Audible

  My editor, Kat Howard

  I leave eternity to Thee; for what is man that he should live out the life-time of his God?

  ― Herman Melville

  CONTENTS:

  1.FACE-OFF

  2.WE’VE LOST

  3.TROUBLE BREWING

  4.ATTITUDE

  5.BUSHWHACKED

  6.LAUNCH

  7.DATE

  8.REVOLUTIONARIES

  9.TENSION

  10.HUNTED

  11.REMAINS

  12.FUNERAL FOR JULIA

  13.FLYING CITIES

  14.FRIENDS

  15.ENCLAVES

  16.THE DEPARTED

  17.UNDERWAY

  18.ARRIVAL AT 82 ERIDANI

  19.CITIES ATTACKED

  20.LIFE

  21.THE RETURN

  22.DERELICT

  23.DEATH

  24.EXPLORATIONS

  25.BATTLE

  26.CITIES IN FIGHT

  27.REPAIRS

  28.PAYBACK

  29.LOOMING STORM

  30.ARMAGEDDON

  31.CLEANUP

  32.FOUND

  33.PROJECT

  34.KIDNAPPING

  35.CITIES VICTORIOUS

  36.ANNOUNCEMENT

  37.COURT BATTLE

  38.TRAVELLING

  39.RETIREMENT

  40.RECOVERY

  41.RESURRECTION

  42.RESULTS NEGATIVE

  43.COURSE CORRECTION

  44.DEBUT

  45.PAV ARRIVAL

  46.CITY

  47.FOREBODING

  48.PAV DECANTING

  49.SURVEILLANCE

  50.A SPACE ODYSSEY

  51.MOOT

  52.WAITING

  53.PROTECTION

  54.PARTY

  55.OFFSITE

  56.CITY IN THE CLOUDS

  57.DETECTION

  58.ARRIVAL

  59.RECONCILIATION

  60.SNEAK ATTACK

  61.FORESHADOWING

  62.LIFE IN THE CLOUDS

  63.WELL, HOLD ON

  64.BATTLE BEGINS

  65.FACILITIES

  66.BATTLE CONTINUES

  67.RUNNING

  68.THE BATTLE

  69.ENDING

  70.EXTERMINATION

  71.VICTORY

  72.RECOVERY

  73.MOOT

  74.PAV ANNOUNCEMENT

  75.REBUILDING

  76.PILGRIMAGE

  Face-Off

  Bob

  March 2224

  Delta Eridani

  The pigoid erupted from its lair with an angry squeal. It displayed startling speed for something with such short legs. The two rock throwers sprinted to the side, fur erect along their spines and ears sticking straight out in excitement. The rest of us set the butts of our spears into the ground and braced them with a foot. And waited.

  This time, I wasn’t an observer. If I had been nervous before, I was terrified now. I could feel the fur standing up along my spine and all the way up to the top of my head. I kept telling myself that I was actually ten thousand miles away, in orbit. Didn’t help. My eyes told me the pigoid was ten meters away, charging at me at what appeared to be about half light speed.

  Then the animal ran into the spear points. Still not breeding for intelligence, apparently. The spears bowed but held, and the animal slammed to the ground with a final squawk.

  Bernie sidled up to it and poked it in the face a few times. Getting no response, he waved his spear in the air and yelled, “Whooo!”

  The rest of us raised a fist and responded, “Hah!”

  Well, that’s how the translation routine handled it. Deltan speech sounded more like pigs loudly wallowing. But the software converted everything to human equivalents for me, including names and colloquialisms.

  Donald slapped me on the shoulder. “Come on, Robert, help me string it up.”

  I tied the back legs of the pigoid, while Donald tossed the other end of the rope over a tree branch. He looked down to check my work before starting to haul and did a double take. “Whoa! That looks like one of Archimedes’ weird knots. Where’d you learn that?”

  Oops. “Uh, from Archimedes, of course. He’s got hands and hands of different knots. I’ve picked up a few.”

  Donald nodded, only mildly interested. We hauled on the rope until the pigoid was suspended—I made sure to use only normal Deltan-level strength and let Donald do most of the work—then he drew a flint knife and bled the animal. The other hunters started the Giving-Thanks chant.

  When it was done, we trussed the carcass onto a couple of spears and started back to Camelot. There would be a feast tonight, and I loved barbecued pigoid. Still no barbecue sauce, though. I wondered idly if I should invent some.

  We were singing a victory chant, and I guess our guard was down. So the group of Deltans that stepped into the path in front of us took us completely by surprise. We came to a ragged halt as they tilted their spears in our direction. It wasn’t quite a threat, more like the promise of one.

  I heard a rustling behind me, and realized that we’d been surrounded. I took a quick look around. The other party outnumbered us by two. Not insurmountable, but definitely a concern. Very likely they were depending on getting the drop on us, and us not being able to organize a defense.

  There had been reports of groups from Caerleon bushwhacking hunting parties, and taking all or part of their kills. It appeared we were the target du jour.

  The spokesman for the group—I recognized him as an unpleasant character from Caerleon whose name translated as Fred—gave us an evil smile. “Nice catch, Donald. You’ve got a lot of pigoid there. I doubt you�
��d miss a haunch or two.”

  Donald, unintimidated, raised his spear to readiness. “There are lots of pigoids out there, Fred. What’s the matter, not having any luck?” Fred reflexively started to take a step back, then caught himself. Donald wasn’t quite as big as his father, but that still left a lot of room for big. People rarely challenged him directly.

  Unfortunately for me, I was standing up front with Donald, and I had designed my android to be as nondescript as possible—average height, average build, average looks—Joe Forgettable, pretty much. So, no surprise that Fred decided to use me as an example. He looked at me. “So what about you, kuzzi? You think you’d like to share the wealth?” He looked at his friends, smiling. They returned the expressions and moved in.

  “Tell you what, Fred,” I answered. “Why don’t you bend way over, stick your head up your own butthole, and keep pushing until you disappear completely.” I smiled at him as innocently as I could. Snickers and guffaws from our group—and a few from the other group—showed that I’d scored. Of course, I had gigabytes of Earth literature and movies to pull my insults from. In a war of words, the Deltans would be virtually unarmed.

  Donald gave me a quick, surprised glance. I guess he hadn’t been expecting the support. He showed his teeth. “Your move, pigoid-dropping.”

  Fred glared at Donald, at me, then turned as if to leave.

  Oh, you have got to be kidding. Cliché, much?

  And, sure enough, he suddenly turned back and swung at me. I could have stopped and had afternoon tea, and still reacted in time. Okay, I’m a computer, but still…

  I leaned back slightly and the clenched fist passed right by my face. As Fred continued the rotation, I placed a short jab in—well, in a human it would be the solar plexus. Same effect, though. Fred said oof and dropped to his knees.

  Now their advantage was down to one, and we had Donald. Our guys grinned and started waving spear points.

  Donald and I moved forward, and the other group stepped aside. As I passed Fred, he glared at me. I said, “Any time, kuzzi.” He didn’t respond, but then he was still trying to breathe.

  There was a huge component of surrogate vengeance in my behavior, of course. I had a lot of years of being on the wrong end of bullying to look back on. But a rational part of my mind told me that I would have to watch out for Fred, now.

  Donald slapped me on the back again. I made a point of staggering. I didn’t want him to decide we were competing.

  We finished our hike to the village on high alert. No singing, no joking around. A couple of the guys took the kill to an agreed-upon fire pit to be divvied up. I turned to head back to Archimedes’ tent, but Donald put a hand on my shoulder and motioned me to come with him. I realized within moments that we were heading for the Council Circle.

  One of the many universals that I’d discovered while studying the Deltans was that politicians and leaders always reserved the best for themselves. The Council Circle location got full sun first thing in the morning, and was in the shade by late afternoon. A few Council members were always at the circle, no doubt trying to look official and stay comfortable.

  Donald walked up to Jeffrey, the current Council leader, and waited to be acknowledged. Jeffrey was a bit of a dick, and liked to keep people waiting, just to show how important he was. Donald accidentally stood in Jeffrey’s sun and began cleaning his spear while he waited, the dried pieces of blood and hide landing all around Jeffrey. I looked around and tried to keep a straight face.

  Finally, Jeffrey accepted the fact that he was being out-ignored. He looked up and gestured for us to sit. We made ourselves comfortable and Donald explained about our encounter with the Caerleon gang.

  When we were done, Jeffrey made a face. “That’s now almost a hand of encounters in the last three hands of days. A couple of people were stabbed when they refused to give up their kill. I’m going to have to bring this up with the full Council. Something has to be done.”

  “All by people from Caerleon?” I asked.

  “Yes, it looks that way. Leave it with me. I’ll get the Council started on it.”

  Donald nodded to Jeffrey, and we got to our feet. As we walked away, I said to Donald, “Do you think it’s the one gang, or different ones?”

  “Fred’s been mentioned more than once. There might be others involved, but it’s mostly him and his group.”

  “And all lately? What’s changed?”

  Donald stared into space for a moment. “Um, I don’t think it’s a case of something changing. It’s more likely that Fred just saw a way to take advantage of something that’s been brewing for a while. We’re just not sure what’s behind it.”

  We walked in silence for a few moments while I thought through an idea. I looked up to Donald. “I have a plan. Can we get an extra dozen people or so? People who won’t mind some close-up action?”

  Donald grinned. “Yeah, I think I can scrape that together.”

  I grinned back. Time for some dirty tricks, Earth-style.

  We’ve Lost

  Howard

  February 2217

  Vulcan

  Bridget opened the door, looking surprised. I hadn’t phoned ahead, and she wasn’t expecting me tonight.

  She started to say, “Howard…what…” Then my expression must have registered.

  “Howard, what’s wrong?” She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the apartment.

  “We lost. We lost and now a billion sentients are going to die!” I collapsed onto her couch and leaned forward with my face in my hands.

  “The Pav?”

  I nodded, unwilling to trust my voice.

  “My God, Howard. Does Butterworth know? Are the Bobs all right?”

  I sighed, and tried for calm. “We lost a lot of Bobs, but there are backups. It’s not quite the same, of course.” I turned to Bridget and tried to smile reassuringly. “Riker let Dexter know, and Dexter will be passing the info along to Butterworth or whoever has taken over for him.”

  “Are we in danger?”

  “Not specifically, Bridget. The Others only know about Earth and Epsilon Eridani. But there are almost two hundred systems closer to GL 877 than us. All these worlds are ultimately in danger as long as the Others exist.”

  “And the Pav? I’ve read some of Jacques’ blog entries. They sound like an interesting species. What happens to them?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping maybe I’d be in a different universe when I opened them. No such luck.

  “We’ve never seen the process, just the aftereffects. Now we’ll be getting a ringside view. The Others will kill off all life on the Pav home world using the Death Asteroids, then move in with ants and cargo carriers and strip the planet and the inner system of all metals. And they’ll collect all corpses and carcasses.”

  I had to stop and take a few deep breaths. The android body didn’t need air, of course, but it was designed to react to emotion, and I was working myself up into a fine conniption.

  “Jacques had a plan to rescue twenty thousand Pav, but the rest will be dead soon. And the Others will have wiped out another intelligent species, another entire planetary ecology.”

  I turned on the couch to face her. “There will be a moot today, to try to figure out what we can do. I just wanted a few minutes…”

  Bridget put her arms around me and pulled my head down to her shoulder. Soundlessly, I tried to cry without tear ducts.

  Trouble Brewing

  Marcus

  November 2212

  Poseidon

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose with thumb and forefinger, shaking my head. Kal waited patiently at the other end of the call. I looked up to see Gina smirking at me. She smoothed her features out quickly, but come on—computer, remember? I gave her a quick smile in reply.

  “Still not convinced, Marcus?” Kal cocked his head at me in the video window.

  I sighed. “I guess I’ve been convinced for a while now, Kal. I just didn’t believe it, you know?”

/>   Kal laughed. “Thus ending the myth that computers are logical.”

  “Bite me. I was human once.” I sat back in my chair and considered my response. Spike picked that moment to jump into my lap for the obligatory chin-scritching. I gave her the proper adulation while I thought through my options. Kal and Gina wouldn’t even notice the millisecond pause in our conversation.

  Kal was an Assistant Governor on Southern Mat Three, and Gina was a mid-level security officer. I’d become friends with both of them over the last couple of years. As we became more comfortable with each other, they’d each confided an increasing concern about the Council’s ongoing power grabs.

  “Okay, so we’ll take it as a given that the Council is no longer even pretending that they’ll be instituting elections any time soon. Or at least not putting much effort into it. It’s not proof positive of a totalitarian government, but I’ll grant you it’s a pretty good indicator. Gina likes to shoot things at the first excuse, but Kal, you’re a lot more conservative. The fact that you’ve bought into this is what really scares me.”

  Gina opened her mouth to retort, but Kal beat her to it. “Worst case, we’re a long way from crossing any kind of line. If the Council gets a sudden attack of sanity to the head, we’ll have done nothing indictable. Or even embarrassing. And yeah, Marcus, before we do anything that we can’t take back, I’ll want to take a good, long look at the situation.”

  I nodded, mollified. The Poseidon Administrative Council was happy to make use of my services, but I had no real official position or authority. The moment I became a liability they could cut me loose. Not that I would be devastated by the snub. I wanted the colony to be self-sufficient, if for no other reason than so I could work on my projects in peace.

  “What do you need from me, Kal?” I asked. “I’ve been steadily handing over functions to the administration for a decade now. If it came down to a showdown, I’m not sure I could even maintain control of the autofactories.”