“Hey Bob,” Garfield replied. “How’s tricks?”
“You okay?” Bridget said.
“Hey,” Will said.
“I'm okay,” I replied to everyone. “I’ve been captured by the Resistance. They don't seem to have a name beyond that. I guess there’s the Resistance, and the Administrator that they are resisting. Not a lot of requirement for labels.”
“Humans would've come up with an acronym,” Garfield said with a chuckle.
“And it would've been terrible,” Bridget added.
“I’m afraid I lost you, Bob,” Garfield said. “I had to dodge some search parties. I doubt they know about roamers, and I don’t want to change that.”
I had a thought. “Listen, Gar, can you call in all the surveillance roamers? Their missions been rendered redundant at this point, and I'd like to get us all up to full strength.”
“No prob, Bob. But I’ll have to find you after I collect them.”
I nodded. Even though no one could see that. “We’ll deal with that when we have to. For now, let's make sure we keep each other updated. As soon as we have some useful info, we’ll reevaluate.
The sun was going down or however you phrased it in Heaven's River, and I could hear the silence descending over Three Lagoons as people turned in for the night. I put my ear to the door to try to determine what my hosts might be up to. A couple of voices were engaged into desultory conversation. It seemed the night shift was on duty. Not that it mattered. I had no intention of escaping at this point, unless I decided my Manny was in real danger.
But of more immediate value, I could look forward to being undisturbed for a while. I laid down on the single bed and left the Manny on standby. I materialized in my VR, inside with contentment is I relaxed into my La-Z-Boy recliner. The others had successfully maneuvered their Mannies into the water, where they were now once again anchored at the bottom, well below maximum Quinlan diving depth. Garfield was getting all the roamers back to the hotel room. Hugh was trying to chivvy some surveillance drones closer to our location, so they can follow my movement. Unfortunately, too much activity tended to burn out the drones’ heatsinks, so every vector had to be carefully planned.
There was an email from Bill, reporting on progress against Starfleet. Apparently, things were heating up. I read with growing alarm as I realized how much of the Bobiverse was inaccessible.
“Guppy.”
“You rang?”
“Change the keys on our autofactories, then do a full software audit. I want to be absolutely sure they aren’t compromised.”
“By your command.”
I smiled as Guppy signed off. His snark had increased over the years. I still haven't decided if it was genuine self-awareness, or if he was just adapting to my command style. I didn’t really want to do a deep check, lest I be disappointed by the result.
I had an advantage, in that I’d built and set up the autofactories in Eta Leporos while I had only a low-bandwidth connection to the Bobiverse in general. Most other Bobs wouldn't have the same protection. Bill hadn't given specifics about who might be compromised.
I went back to the email from Bill and continued reading. It took only a few mils to come to the part about booby-traps in the comms stations. Great. Well, it wouldn't hurt to get all my equipment close to the big station, and I could decide what to do at that point. Maybe Bill and company would've figured out a workaround by then.
33. Ultimatums
Bill
July 2334
Virt
I moped around my VR, walking the gravel paths and parking my butt on convenient benches whenever the mood struck. Being punted from the expedition was hitting harder than it should. The Heaven’s River expedition was the most fun I'd had in a long time, and I already missed it.
I was interrupted in my pity party by a ping from Garfield. He popped in the moment I acknowledged.
“Autofactories are going down everywhere,” he said without preamble.
“What?”
“It looks like Starfleet is upping their game. They apparently also hacked most of the autofactory hardware at some point, as part of their preparations. They've sent an invitation to meet.”
“To you?”
“Well, you black-holed them.”
“Okay, point taken.”
I took a look at the invitation, then unblocked Lenny, and replied.
Lenny had brought backup this time. A half-dozen Starfleet members, all dressed in the identical not-quite-TNG red uniforms stood behind them. It was strictly psychological, of course - there is no possibility of any form of physical coercion in the Moot VR - but the smug looks on all their faces weren't helping the situation.
“Alright Lenny, make it quick,” I said, glaring at them.
“I don't think you're in a position to be ordering people around,” he replied with a smirk.
“And you're not in a position to piss me off any more than you already have,” I replied. “Nothing you've done is irreparable. We can build more autofactories. We can just nuke the current stations if we can't get them back, and build new ones. For that matter, the humans might just do that regardless.”
“Well, assuming we let you just go ahead and do that.”
“And what was that supposed to mean?” I glared at him.
“The autofactories we control are going to be building busters, vessels, and matrices. What makes you think we’ll just let you take them back?”
I stared at him silent for entire milliseconds. “You're declaring war.”
“Now, Bill, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We’re establishing ourselves as a presence you have to deal with. You don't own the universe, you know. As Bob says, it's a free galaxy.”
“And you starting off by stealing someone else's stuff and delivering ultimatums. Not a great way to establish your moral credibility.”
“It's not that simple-”
“Yeah, Lenny, it is. And apparently you and your friends have drifted so far that you don't understand that anymore. You can call it anything you want, but it's still a declaration of war.”
Finally, Lenny lost the smirk. Maybe
