“I guess the Skippies are already starting on setting up an AI,” I mused.
“Some preliminary work is required,” Annek replied. “Hardware mods. AI is not achievable through algorithmic refinement - it requires a process of simulated annealing to achieve.”
“So they’re evolving the AI?” I could feel my eyes bugging out.
“Simplistic, but essentially correct.” Annek focused both eyes on me. “Some problems simply do not yield to reductionist techniques, particularly those that are dependent on emergent phenomena.”
A short silence settled around the table as well digested that tidbit.
“What will happen with the Quinlans now?” Will asked.
“Ships of exploration will be built. Probes will be sent to nearby stars as necessary. Hugh has offered any available information on local unclaimed systems. Colony vessels will follow. Once the Quinlan race is established on at least one other star system, I will be able to relax.”
“And then?”
“My primary mandates is the safety of the Quinlan race. I've noted the success and flexible nature of your Bobiverse model, with regard to the survival of your own species. I will evaluate this strategy as a viable option.”
“The Quinniverse?” Garfield looked around at the glares pointed his way and shrugged. “What?”
32. A Few Loose Ends
Bob
October 2334
Virt
Bridget and Stephan were trudging through the foothills outside Garrick's Spine. The floating video window showed the area from Bridget's point of view. Stephen wasn't much help, it appeared - he kept looking up, while Bridget kept looking down. I predicted a very short professional relationship. Stephen was already agitating for an interview with Annek. I smiled at the thought. Dr. Gilligan was very Bob-like, in a lot of ways. He was one of the few post-Earth replicants - what Bill called ex-humans - who I knew and wanted to stay in contact with.
Hugh had sent me some updates on their work with the Quinlan AI development template. I think he was trying to get back in my good graces. Time would tell. The unilateral deal with Annek had touched a nerve with the Bobiverse, especially with Hugh's frequent reiteration that there wasn’t a Bobiverse government to consult with. Generally speaking, people were more angry at the Skippies than they had been at Starfleet - although the latter weren’t by any means out of the doghouse either.
The Bobiverse was fracturing. Several groups and formed their own subnets and set up firewalls at the interface. Most of the rest had done audits and upgraded their security. The changes were far-reaching. For one thing, you couldn’t just pop in to visit anyone anymore unless you were a close friend. The moots were on temporary hiatus until we upgraded the hardware to be able to handle the extra security and encryption requirements. And the humans had formally declared their intention to divest themselves of any Bobiverse dependency. That meant their own autofactories, their own ships, their own space stations, and their own communications infrastructure. There was even talk of banning Mannies, although Howard expressed considerable skepticism. Surrogates, like the movie, would be just too tempting for humanity, and no government ban would be able to hold back the tide.
Even the Pav had an expanding fleet, crewed by Pav. They had stated that their first extended voyage would be back to their homeworld to evaluated it for recolonization, and they had turned down (rather currently) an offer by the local Bobs to give them remote access to the planet via drones. I expected that to change - it was most likely a public statement which would be quietly reversed in private discussions.
And I wasn't entirely sure that any of this was a bad thing. I was intended to be a Von Neumann probe, and so far, I've done a really crappy job of it. Expansion of known space had stalled at about a 100 or so light-years radius, since most Bobs were more interested in setting up their own territories. Whether it was Bill’s skunk works, the Skippies matryoshka brain, or Starfleet's enclave out Perseus transit way. Maybe it was time to get working on my own prime directive again.
Annek had started disassembling planet one for materials, so there was no longer any kind of resource shortage. It had generously offered me whatever I needed, for any personal projects. Annek seemed quite excited about the current prospects. I think maybe it had been getting bored with 300 years of maintaining the status quo. I wondered if that was an existential issue with AI’s in general, being given self-awareness, then told to administer the most boring tasks.
And it turned out that Annek had extremely extensive and detailed studies of Quinlan anatomy, neurology, and biochemistry - more than enough, in fact, to make the Quinniverse a reasonable near-term goal with only minor adaptations to the scanning and replication process.
We were gathered in Bill's VR, which at the moment was an outdoor deck looking over the Ragnarök landscape. Bill swore it was an accurate representation, which would mean he'd made incredible progress on terraforming. I could see actual trees and bushes from the deck, plus one rabbit that it stopped and stared at us for a moment before scampering off. Will and Garfield reclined in Adirondack chairs with beverages perched on their stomachs. Bill paced back and forth, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. He had requested this meeting, or at least had requested a meeting, which seem to of been absorbed into this whole get together. But now when he finally had the floor, he seemed overcome by some kind of reluctance to get started. I knew this meant something uncomfortable was about to be brought up. I mentally reviewed my recent actions, wondering if I'd engaged in any unintended faux pas. Nothing came to mind. Perhaps a subtle prod would help move things along.
“Okay Bill, you look like
