We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Sigh. “Morning, Dr. Landers. Didn’t you just leave?”

“Good morning, Bob…”

Uh oh. That wasn’t Dr. Landers’ normal tone. I had been playing around with tuning my artificial senses, and I’d discovered that I could run Fourier Analysis on voices in close to real time. The doctor’s voice indicated high levels of tension.

A second man stepped into view. Dr. Landers gestured toward him. “Bob, this is Senior Minister Travis. He’s here to evaluate your progress.”

I understood the unspoken message. This guy could pull my plug. I would have to tread very carefully. I would also have to clamp down on my tendency to make wisecracks, as his appearance seemed purpose-designed for a comedy routine. He reminded me of the old saying, ‘Stereotypes are valid first-order approximations.’ The man was the cliché of the old-time, bible-thumping, fire-breathing preacher: tall and thin, with cheekbones and teeth that seemed to protrude from his face. Even when he smiled, he glowered.

“Good morning, Minister Travis. I’m at your disposal.” Wow, worst opening line, ever.

“Good morning, replicant. I’m here to evaluate fitness yours for a task which is the glory of the Lord on today and to a much extent lesser, the kingdom of our spiritual leaders, Thomas Händel III.”

I was taken aback for a moment at his accent and mangled vocabulary. Of course, this was a hundred years later, but Dr. Landers always sounded like anyone you might run into on the street. On the other hand, Landers had made it clear that dealing with replicants was his specialty. Perhaps that included speech training.

“All right, shoot,” I said.

Dr. Landers shrugged. “Oh, there a twenty-first century is colloquialism. It means to have all the questions you desire.”

Minister Travis nodded, and glanced back at me. “I imagine statement in the current idiom is not a high priority, since the intended use of subject.”

Crying out loud. What? The current version of English was just too mangled to make sense of. Well, maybe there was a translator. After all, even in my time, we had Google Translate. I dove into the library, and within milliseconds, I found what I needed. I played the minister’s last statement through the routine.

‘I imagine instruction in current idiom isn’t a high priority, given its intended use.’

Oh boy. If I still had eyebrows, they would have risen right to my hairline.

He looked at me. Or maybe toward me. I got the feeling he was addressing a microphone rather than talking to someone. I routed all dialog through the translation routine.

“Did you go to church when you were alive?”

Can they tell when I lie? Dr. Landers never said anything about it. Well, I doubt I’d end up worse off being caught in a polite lie, rather than being honest about my opinion of religion.

“Occasionally, Minister Travis. Easter and Christmas, mostly. Without a family, there was no real pressure.”

“No children, then?”

“Not… no.” Not that I know of. Hah! That would have gone over well. Moron.

“Not?”

“Not yet, Minister.” And not likely, now.

Minister Travis nodded.

The conversation continued in that vein for several minutes. The questions were decidedly non-technical. The minister seemed to be primarily interested in my attitude toward religion in general. I was very careful to be respectful and non-confrontational, to come across as a team player, and to avoid any hint of my true feelings about theism in general.

Finally, Minister Travis seemed satisfied. He nodded to me, said goodbye to Dr. Landers, and left.

Dr. Landers withdrew a hankie and wiped his brow.

“Damn, doc. Was it that dangerous a situation? He didn’t seem belligerent.”

“There was no way to predict, Bob. He showed up unexpectedly, and I had no time to prepare you or research the minister to find out whose side he’s on.” ℞ＡΝօ𝔟Εʂ

“Side? Uh, FAITH has sides?”

“Surely you don’t think our government is in complete agreement about everything?” Dr. Landers looked at me with a wry expression. “FAITH is riddled with factions and power-blocs. Maybe even more than most governments. I guess it goes with the territory.”

Dr. Landers pulled out the chair and sat down. “As it happens, Minister Travis is with the Ministry of Truth. They are financing this venture, so he would be considered friendly.”

“Truth? How does that connect to colonization?”

“The Ministry of Truth is concerned with spreading the truth, of course. Their reach is considerable—military, colonization, diplomacy…” He stared into space for a moment, obviously choosing his words. “But there are other ministries arrayed against us. There are factions that think all artificial intelligences, AMI and replicant alike, are abominations. There are those who think we should give up all technology from steam power on up. And they all think they have direct divine approval. Needless to say, debates are low on logic and high on rhetoric. Except when they’re even higher on assassinations and sabotage.”

Since I hadn’t actually asked for all of this detail, his outburst came as a surprise. I had a feeling this was a sore spot with him.

“Why do people put up with it? This sounds like a version of hell.”

The doctor sighed. “I am granted a lot of latitude when working with replicants, but if I were to repeat some of my statements outside of this building, I would be up for immediate re-education. That consists essentially of operant conditioning, reinforced by direct brain and nerve stimulation of the thalamus, amygdala, and vagus nerve. When the Ministry of Proper Thought is done with you, you will go into spasms from simply thinking an unacceptable thought.”

Dr. Landers stood up. “Sorry to be so negative, Bob. Ministry visits are traumatic at the best of times, and in this case, we’ve got a lot riding on you. And the other replicants.”

Huh. ‘A lot riding on us’ doesn’t go with ‘driving a garbage truck’. I wonder when he’ll spill the beans.

He picked up his tablet. “I’ve set up a simulation exercise for you today. We will cut off your real I/O and establish a number of virtual reality interfaces. I’ll also add access to one of those libraries I mentioned. You can exit the simulation any time it becomes too much for you, just by querying your GUPPI.”

The doctor poked at his tablet…

***

I found myself floating in nothingness. I immediately queried my GUPPI for available interfaces. GUPPI returned with a list of video/audio feeds, a reactor control interface, a traffic control interface, and an environmental control interface. I also found a library interface. I queried the meaning of GUPPI.

[General Unit Primary Peripheral Interface]

Lame.

The mission summary indicated that I was in control of a space station. That was interesting. I wondered if I was training for something space-based. I had a look around, using whatever feeds I had available. A quick check of the library indicated that the simulation was an accurate representation of real-life locations. The fact that FAITH even allowed actual space stations earned them some brownie points in my book.

The station seemed to service military and transport vessels. I couldn’t find any indication of the existence of tourists. Space tours and space hotels would have meant that interplanetary travel was a safe and routine experience, ripe for commercial ventures.

The library did reference a number of military and scientific stations, and even a colony or two on the moon and Mars. Well, better than nothing, but not hugely impressive for a hundred years of elapsed time.

I queried my location and duties. The scenario consisted of a space station in geosynchronous orbit, with me in charge of the power, traffic control, and environment. As an engineer, this was right up my alley.

I also had an Escape button, in case I needed to abort the scenario. It took me very little time to establish the requirements for my control duties. I determined boundary parameters for each and instructed GUPPI to interrupt me if anything fell outside of specs. I expected there would be lots of emergencies.

I then dove into the library in earnest.