We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Howard

August 2334

Trantor

I sat back and put my hands behind my head, grinning like a fool. “You have that smug look,” Bridget said. “What happened?”

“Well, it turns out we’re not the only replicants with money and influence.” I waved a hand at the email displayed on the Canvas. “Senator MacIntosh. Remember him? Loudly anti-replicant. He’s being recalled.”

“Really?”

“They got the required signatures. And guess who was behind the recall campaign?”

“Us?”

I laughed. “No, although I would have loved to have a hand in it. The man is a toxic dump of xenophobia and undirected hate. It’s possible he didn’t realize that the Afterlife replicant reserve is part of his district. Or maybe he thought he could remove our rights before they could fight back. Or something.”

Bridget frowned. “That would be a couple hundred signatures at most. They’d need …” Bridget’s eyes lost focus for a moment. “… something like fifteen thousand to succeed.”

“Yep. Turns out, though, that people are concerned about their afterlife. Afterlives? Anyway, the anti-MacIntosh group started comparing him to FAITH, in terms of removing replicant rights, then implied that no matter what kind of post-life setup someone chose, he’d be after them sooner or later. I guess it’s different when you’re personally threatened.”

Bridget snorted and sat down beside me. She spent a few seconds paging through the news items before turning to face me. “Still, he hasn’t actually been voted out yet. Let’s not count our politicians before they’re properly cooked. And the overall problem is still there: mistrust of replicants.”

“Which is why I’ve started a rumor that someone is working on mannies for the living. It’s not exactly spilling the beans; for instance, I didn’t share any information about exactly who is doing this or how far along we—er, they—are. But the point is that if humans think they can have a manny while they’re still alive, a full ban will be a hard sell.”

Bridget smiled noncommittally, then pulled up a new window. “I have an exploration candidate.”

I peered at the information on the Surface. “Is this new?”

“Just discovered. Mario and his crew are still searching for Others’ nests. They haven’t found any, but naturally they’re exploring new systems in the process. They’ve found a few more planets that were hit by the Others, and some other planets that hadn’t been yet but probably would have been soon enough. This particular one is … well, just read it.”

I reached across her and paged down through the summary. I could feel a frown forming on my face, then deepening as I continued to read. “Is this for real?”

“Unless Mario has suddenly developed a warped sense of humor, yes. This might turn out to be the weirdest ecosystem I’ve ever seen. And remember, I’ve seen Quilt.”

I flipped the pages up and down a few times, then grinned at her. “Shades of Flash Gordon. This could be fun.”

Bridget laughed in reply. “I’ve asked Mario to create us a full space station and autofactory in the system. While he’s on that, I’ll use his spy drones to get some prelims. We’ll have to do a lot of research on this one. Maybe even more than with the Quinlans.”

“Wow.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Flying monkeys.”

“Not monkeys.”

“Close enough.” I closed the window. “This is going to be your biggest blog subject ever.”