I finished my aerial sweep. It looked like the raptors were done for the day. I called Stéphane. “Hey, chief. All clear. There’s nothing anywhere near the fence now.”
Stéphane grinned into the phone. “Bon! I guess the fence crew will have to come up with something new. They keep thinking they are finished…”
We both laughed. The Fence Construction group was taking a lot of flak lately.
“So, Howard,” Stéphane continued after a moment. “We will be going to the Groggery after our shift, to sample the latest attempt at beer. Care to tag along?”
“I might just meet you there, Stéphane. I have a meeting with the colonel first. I do love watching you guys fall over dead, though.”
Stéphane grinned at me. “Eh, the last batch did remind me a little of actual beer. I think they’ll have it right, soon.”
I nodded and promised to be there.
* * *
“Afternoon, Howard.”
“Colonel.” I noted that the colonel had his bottle of Jameson out again.
Not that I disapproved, but there couldn’t be much of the stuff left, and the supplier was sixteen light-years away. And no longer in existence, but who’s counting. I said, in an aside to Guppy that wouldn’t show on the colonel’s video feed, “I have a TODO to build a distillery, right?”
[Affirmative. And set to a high priority]
Well, all work and no booze… I chuckled, and merged back into my public avatar.
The colonel had been talking during this sidebar. I frame-jacked momentarily and played back the video to get caught up.
“No deaths for the last three days on the patrols. I hope we’ve gotten ahead of this issue with the raptors.”
I put my hands behind my head and stretched while I considered that statement. The raptors weren’t really dinosaurs. They weren’t really anything Earth-equivalent. They were bipedal hunters, slightly larger than the velociraptors in the first Jurassic Park movie. They had large mouths full of teeth more reminiscent of a shark’s than the peg-shaped teeth of the canonical carnosaur. The raptors—and the USE settlers—had discovered that biocompatibility was a two-way street. Judging by the subsequent increase in raptor incursions, humans had proven to be a tasty treat.
“I wouldn’t want to get complacent, Colonel. These are intelligent animals. They won’t just keep marching into weapon range like a horde of zombies.”
“Yes.” The colonel waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Which is why I like the aerial surveillance system that you are implementing. Thermal imagers at night. And take out any that approach within a minimum radius.”
“Well, I doubt that the committee will give you any grief about that decision now.”
The colonel snorted, nodded to me, and ended the connection.
Colonel Butterworth and I got along much better than he and Riker ever did. Whether that was a difference in personality, or just the fact that the colonel was less stressed, was anyone’s guess.
I sighed and scrubbed my hand across my chin. It was time to get back to work.
I took a moment to check the status on the Artificial Womb construction.
We were going to be force-growing a generation of farm animals, just in time for the completion of the secure ranching area. If raptors liked human, they’d love cow. Best be prepared.
Everything seemed to be in order, so I called up a session with Bob and Bill. It took a few milliseconds for the connection, and then they both popped into my VR, sitting around the campfire.
“Hey, Howard,” Bob greeted me with a smile. “Always love the camping theme.”
I smiled back, handed both of them sticks, and laid out the marshmallows and wieners. I’d put a lot of effort into getting the campground just right.
Evenings around the campfire had been one of the highlights of my summers
when my dad would take us out to the cabin. Even as a child, I had felt the spirituality and timeless Zen of sitting around the fire with the trees looming in the semi-darkness.
This fire had just enough poplar in it to cause the occasional pop, but not so much that it began to sound like gunfire. I’d edited out insects—we Bobs tend to be a little obsessive about realistic detail, but come on, who needs mosquitos?
Once everyone was properly set up and ruining perfectly good marshmallows, I started the meeting. “One of our hunting parties ran into a dozen raptors today. They’d set up an ambush, and a pretty good one. I had to busterize one of them or we’d be down another settler.”
Bill shrugged. “I’ve said it before—I know it looks like really intelligent behavior, but pack predators on Earth did that kind of thing all the time. It’s easily explained by instinct. Get Jurassic Park out of your mind.”
Bob was grinning at me, so I just smiled and nodded. “Yeah, okay, point taken. Anyway, Bob’s automated surveillance system should be pretty valuable, once we get it set up. Especially with Bob’s new and improved ordnance.”
“Guppy ran the surveillance system on Eden for years,” Bob said. “It’ll be interesting to wire up a dedicated GUPPI to handle the job, though. No replicant oversight. You sure about that, Howard?”
“Not entirely,” I admitted. “But I wouldn’t dare suggest using up resources to build Bobs just for running guard details, you know?”
Bill and Bob said in perfect unison, “Butterworth would have a cow.”
We all broke up in laughter. With certain notable exceptions, the Bobs all had similar senses of humor. What tickled one funny bone tickled all.
There were a few milliseconds of contemplative silence. I looked at Bob.
“How’s it going with the Deltans?”
Bob smiled a sad smile and shrugged. “Archimedes has a growing family, now. Time marches on. People age, you know? It’s starting to freak me out a little. I’m watching people I know live their lives, getting older…”
Bill and I both nodded. Immortality had sounded like a great idea back on Earth, but there were costs, especially when you became attached to ephemerals. I glanced quickly at Bill as I had that thought. I knew Bill was touchy about the use of that term. But no, he couldn’t read my mind. I hoped I didn’t have a guilty expression.
Probably a good time to change the subject. “We’re ahead of schedule overall. We’ll probably be finished decanting the settlers from Exodus-3 this week. Riker will be happy to get back in touch with our relatives.”
Bill and Bob both nodded. Bob said, “I enjoy watching the exchanges, but I have to admit that it would be too painful for me to talk to them. I’m glad Riker is up for it. I keep seeing the resemblance to my sisters in people’s faces, and it’s gut-wrenching.”
I smiled slightly. I don’t think anyone had ever come out and said it to him, but the common feeling was that Bob-1 had gotten an extra dose of Original Bob’s anxiety. He tended to get wound up about stuff like that.
I said to Bill, “Before I forget, I need to contact Riker. I want to find out if he can locate some oak and scan it for me.”
“Oak?” Bill raised an eyebrow at me.
“If Riker can get a good enough scan, I should be able to print some real oak barrels.”
“It’ll take forever to print something biological, you know.”
“I know, Bill. It’s more a proof of concept at this stage. I’ll have a printer doing nothing but making staves until I have enough.”
Bill looked confused for a moment, then grinned. “Going into business?”
“No, just doing my part to maintain morale.”
We talked for a few more milliseconds about miscellaneous items, then they signed off. And Guppy popped in with my next TODO.