We’d shut down the dungeon, and were relaxing in the locker room comparing notes. I wasn't sure why there was a locker room, but I figured if I could have a pub, they can have a locker room.
“They're still arguing,” Gandalf said, shaking his head. “Man, you really created a shit storm.” He chuckled. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”
I grinned at the rest of the dungeon party. Kevin, who’s Staff of Fireballs was now mine, glared sullenly, then averted his eyes. Not a fan, I guess. I was going to get the entire score for the dragon unless the dissenters managed to overturn the decision, and half the dragon’s horde. The combined experience points would boost me three levels, easily. Plus whatever I could get for the staff. Pretty good day, overall. If only real life went that way.
I motioned to Gandalf with my chin. “We should really get on with things.”
He nodded and popped us both into his private VR, which closely resembled Orthanc from the Peter Jackson movies, but with La-Z-Boy couches. “So what’s you're concern, Bill.”
“Honestly, Gandalf, you guys seemed to have bailed on the project before you finished.”
He frowned. “Interesting. Maybe we have different definitions of finished? Certainly the expedition has a long way to go, but I think we've done what we set out to do.”
“Ecological and sociological surveys aren’t complete. Language translation is mostly there, but still has some holes. We haven't even made a dent in mapping the topopolis, not to mention surveys of Quinn.”
Gandalf gave me a look of exaggerated patience. “A lot of that is Skippy responsibility. We've been helping, only because it was interesting for a while. Come on, Bill. What part of ‘volunteer’ aren't you grokking?”
“So as soon as it becomes less interesting, you bail?”
Gandalf thought for a moment. “Yep, pretty much.” He hesitated for a moment. Look, we’re still available for specific questions. But as far as further research is concerned, I think were tapping out. Bring us another interesting puzzle though, and we can talk. Okay?”
I sighed. Less and less Bob. “Fine. I got it.” I stood up. Put my character on reserves, okay? I'll probably be back.
He grinned and gave me a thumbs up as I popped out.
24. Interlude
Bob
July 2334
Virt
Hugh sat in a beanbag chair, nursing a coffee and staring into space. I’d forwarded our logs for the last few days, and he’d immediately invited himself over.
“Tranquilizer guns, huh?” He took a sip. “Interesting choice of weapon.”
“How so?”
“There’s many easier and less complex ways of taking out an opponent, starting with stabbing them and working up to a proper pistol with bullets.”
“Heaven's River isn’t a space station. You wouldn't have to worry about making a hole. The shell material wouldn't even notice a bullet, up to a considerably larger caliber.”
“Okay. Anything we can learn from that?”
“Assuming the gun was stolen, which is reasonable, the Administrator seems to want to be careful not to kill anyone.” He was silent for several moments more. “And the Scattering. I think you're right about the interpretation. Again, it would be easier to just kill people.”
“Is it significant?” Hugh opened his mouth several times to speak, then got a funny look. “Not sure. It could just be the Quinlans don't like killing each other. Except…”
“Yeah. Quinn. The planet.”
“Listen, Bob, you still have that spare Manny buried near the transit station. Have you thought about activating it and sending someone off, maybe upstream?”
I shook my head. “No, it's a spare, Hugh, in case we total one of ours. We need to stay a foursome.”
“Hm. Too bad. I'd like to be able to try one out.”
“There’s still the test units on Quinn. I understand Will and Howard have been playing around with them.”
“And breaking them, apparently,” Hugh replied. Then at the look on my face, he added, “Oh, you didn't know. Um, don't let Bridget find out.”
“Howard broke one?”
Hugh’s only reply was a grin. He put down his coffee cup and stood. “I got the scan done of Galen Town. Nothing unusual, right down to the limits of resolution that I had time for. In particular, no electronics or forbidden tech that I could find, which might mean the Resistance doesn't have it, or might mean they don't keep it in town.”
“What about the tranq guns?”
Hugh shrugged. “They don't register as electronics, so I'd have to specifically scan for them. And I just didn't have time, before the heatsink burned out. And for that same reason, random scanning is a non-starter. I had to retire a drone to get what I did, and I'll be shorthanded until I can fly in a replacement.” He held up a hand, “Talk later,” and popped out.
On a whim, since I had some time to spare, I decided to visit Will on Valhalla. Our last meeting had ended abruptly. As soon as I received an acknowledgment, I popped over. It took only a second to unrack my Manny, and I glanced around. Instead of Will sitting in a chair, I found a 2-foot roamer waving a leg at me. The roamer began walking, then paused. Significantly. Presumably it was giving me an impatient look or something, but because the devices were symmetrical it was really hard to tell.
The roamers hadn't changed that much in the 200 years since they'd been invented, at least not in principle. Lots of improvements had been made, like the Casimir power source, better materials, more compact electronics, and so on. But it was still an eight-legged general-purpose robot run by a moronic machine intelligence. I frowned and thought as I followed the device. Maybe the Skippies had the right idea. The creation of a practical AI, whether it was truly conscious are just zombie-level capable, would have a huge impact on society. Maybe even more than subspace theory and the accompanying technologies had.
The roamer led me out of Will's home and down a long sequence of staircases,
