Not till we are lost bob.., p.1
Not Till We Are Lost (Bobiverse Book 5),
p.1
Titles by Dennis E. Taylor
The Bobiverse series:
We Are Legion (We Are Bob)
For We Are Many
All These Worlds
Heaven’s River
Not Till We Are Lost
The Quantum Earth series:
Outland
Earthside
Other Novels
The Singularity Trap
Roadkill
Short Stories
A Change of Plans
Feedback
Not Till We Are Lost
Dennis E. Taylor
Not Till We Are Lost
Copyright © 2024 Dennis E. Taylor
All rights reserved.
This edition published 2025
ISBN: 978-1-68068-345-5
Cover by Jeff Brown Graphics (www.jeffbrowngraphics.com)
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No Artificial Intelligence (AI) was used to generate any of the text of this book.
No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
This book is published on behalf of the author by the Ethan Ellenberg Literary Agency.
This book was initially an Audible Original production.
Performed by Ray Porter
Editorial Producer: Steve Feldberg
Sound recording copyright 2024 by Audible Originals, LLC
You can reach the author at:
Twitter: @Dennis_E_Taylor
Facebook: @DennisETaylor2
Instagram: dennis_e_taylor
Blog: http://www.dennisetaylor.org
Dedication
First, and always, I want to dedicate this book to my wife,
Blaihin, and my daughter, Tina.
Acknowledgments
Producing a novel is very much a group project. I would like to thank my wife, Blaihin, for letting me bounce ideas off her randomly; Steve Feldberg, my editor, who keeps my characters’ tics to a minimum; and my agent, Ethan Ellenberg, for all the agent-y things he does that make this venture work.
I also want to thank and acknowledge Isaac Arthur for doing a sanity check (of the book, not of me).
Beta Readers:
Isaac Arthur
Blaihin Taylor
Patrick Jordan
“Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations.”
—Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Destination Galactic Center
Chapter Two: Mending Fences
Chapter Three: What’s Up?
Chapter Four: A Foreboding Conversation
Chapter Five: Mystery System
Chapter Six: The Quickening
Chapter Seven: Political Comeback
Chapter Eight: Wormholes
Chapter Nine: Security Clampdown
Chapter Ten: Election Victory
Chapter Eleven: Frustrations
Chapter Twelve: Tech Sleuthing
Chapter Thirteen: It Hits the Fan
Chapter Fourteen: Network Tours
Chapter Fifteen: Imposter Syndrome
Chapter Sixteen: Theresa’s Time
Chapter Seventeen: Strategy Session
Chapter Eighteen: Explorations
Chapter Nineteen: Working the Problem
Chapter Twenty: Spectacular Nature
Chapter Twenty-One: Running Tests
Chapter Twenty-Two: A Visit to the Moot Pub
Chapter Twenty-Three: Huey
Chapter Twenty-Four: Arachnophobia
Chapter Twenty-Five: Building the Quiniverse
Chapter Twenty-Six: Building Dragons
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Positive Results
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Wish Granted
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ready to Go
Chapter Thirty: Revisions
Chapter Thirty-One: Huey Progress
Chapter Thirty-Two: Second Wave
Chapter Thirty-Three: Finally Working
Chapter Thirty-Four: Prototype
Chapter Thirty-Five: Travel Plans
Chapter Thirty-Six: The Gamers Come Through
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Schemes
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Starfleet Just Won’t Go Away
Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Civil Discussion
Chapter Forty: Going In
Chapter Forty-One: A Disturbing Discovery
Chapter Forty-Two: Flying Around
Chapter Forty-Three: Learning Curve
Chapter Forty-Four: Investigation
Chapter Forty-Five: Everyone Goes Ballistic
Chapter Forty-Six: Moot Time
Chapter Forty-Seven: Assimilation
Chapter Forty-Eight: Gunther’s World
Chapter Forty-Nine: The Quiniverse
Chapter Fifty: The Big Guy
Chapter Fifty-One: Accusation
Chapter Fifty-Two: Re-Arrival
Chapter Fifty-Three: Preparations
Chapter Fifty-Four: Education
Chapter Fifty-Five: Setting Off
Chapter Fifty-Six: Graduation
Chapter Fifty-Seven: Marathon
Chapter Fifty-Eight: Special Delivery
Chapter Fifty-Nine: Showdown
Chapter Sixty: Encounter
Chapter Sixty-One: First Test
Chapter Sixty-Two: Dragon Report
Chapter Sixty-Three: A New Beginning
Chapter Sixty-Four: Something Interesting
Chapter Sixty-Five: The Black Hole
Chapter Sixty-Six: In System
Chapter Sixty-Seven: Perpetrator
Chapter Sixty-Eight: Federation Capital
Chapter Sixty-Nine: Trouble
Chapter Seventy: Bill Gets a Call
Chapter Seventy-One: The Moot
Chapter Seventy-Two: Human Fallout
About the Author
About the Publisher
Chapter One:
Destination Galactic Center
Icarus
March 2309
Interstellar Space (en route to Sagittarius A*)
Daedalus and I had been accelerating for fifty-two years now, Earth time. The universe, if you looked at it without any visual compensation, was unrecognizable, nothing more than a bright smear in front of us. Also Doppler-shifted to lethal levels, but who’s counting? Fortunately, the SURGE drive field protected our ships from the onslaught of radiation and oncoming dust by warping it around us. And computer simulations allowed us to produce an image of the universe as it would appear if we were floating at rest in space, at this spot.
It didn’t really look that much different from the view of the sky from Earth. Fifty-odd light-years, on a galactic scale, was diddly. And we were on a twenty-six-thousand-year trip.
“Twenty-five thousand, nine hundred bottles of beer on the wall, twenty-five thousand, nine hundred bottles of beeeeeer,” I muttered.
“I heard that, Ick,” Daedalus said. He’d been relaxing in a lawn chair, doing calculations on some kind of spreadsheet as usual, and paused only long enough to comment. I smiled slightly. We’d become like an old married couple—long silences, working side by side while hardly acknowledging each other’s existence. Today I was visiting Dae’s VR—a garden setting, warm sun, slight breeze, birdsong in the background. Relaxing. I’d accepted the theme and conjured up a lawn chair of my own, but the reclining kind since I wasn’t working on anything.
“If we keep accelerating at this rate, we’ll get there in fifty years, personal time,” I continued. “Of course, who knows what will have happened back home in twenty-six thousand years?”
“Well, you know the standard nightmare, right?” Dae replied without looking up. “We arrive at Sagittarius A* and find a bunch of Bobs that have been there for twenty-five thousand, nine hundred years, FTL having been invented just after we left.”
“Yup. Fortunately, being Bobs and therefore obsessive, we’ve left instructions for that eventuality. Someone would message us with the news.”
Dae smiled without immediately replying and poked at his spreadsheet some more. “I calculate that if we had to slow down to galactic orbital speed for that or whatever other reason, it would take about five years at full power. Ten years with some safety factor built in.”
“Then all the way back home. Another fifty years.”
“Not if they invented FTL. There would be someone waiting when we came to a stop.”
“True. Ever regret not hanging around local space?”
“Not really, Icky. Based on the news updates Bill is still sending our way, it’s really kinda turning into a shit-show. Another shit-show, I mean. And what’s with this Starfleet? Who thought that up?”
“Bobs. Very weird Bobs.”
I should explain that, I guess. Daedalus and I are clones of the mind of one Bob Johannson, a computer programmer who got himself killed crossing the street in Las Vegas in the early 21st century. Bob’s brain was scanned and used to create the controlling intelligence for a Von Neumann probe a hundred years later.
Bob was a very good Von Neumann probe, and he not only explored, but he also made c
Dae and I are currently heading for the galactic core at just a fraction under C, because it seemed like a good idea at the time.
“Our news is getting more and more behind the times, the farther out we go.” Dae sighed. “I wish we could have figured out a way to drop off SCUT relay stations along the way so we could stay in touch in real time.”
“Mm-hmm. Price we pay, buddy. So what are you working on?”
“Ah.” Dae gestured at his spreadsheet, and it rotated so I could see it. “By carefully tuning the SURGE drive, we’ve always been able to vary the amount of incident radiation that we let through. It occurred to me at some point that if the drive could control the radiation in that way, it might also be able to refract it.”
“Like a lens?”
“Like a lens. The front end of the biggest damned refractor telescope you could hope for.”
“Uh, didn’t Asgard … ?”
“Yeah, yeah, Asgard colony, biggest telescope ever made. As they like to remind us at every opportunity. But theirs is in a solar orbit, not attached to a spaceship hurtling through the cosmos. And it’s a reflector, although that’s a detail. Given the limitations, I’m satisfied with what I can produce.”
“Have you tried it yet?”
“Yeppers. I’ve started surveying stellar systems as we pass. Targets that are just forward of a right angle to our vector give the best images with correction.”
“Cool. What are you looking for?”
“Anything interesting. Planets, coherent signals, anomalies … Even if we don’t stop to investigate, we can send a report back, and someone will send out a ship.”
“Via FTL?”
Dae chuckled. “With a definite target, they’d probably send a remote-controlled vessel and drop off some relays along the way. It’s what I’d do.”
I nodded. Typical. Even when we were abdicating our Bobiverse membership by heading for the hills, we still felt a responsibility to the group.
Bobs forever.
Chapter Two:
Mending Fences
Bill
January 2336
Ragnarök
Iwas reviewing the most recent eco-survey of Ragnarök when I got a message from Hugh. My eyebrow went up in mild surprise. He and I hadn’t really talked much since the end of the Heaven’s River adventure. Although I don’t think either of us had actually tried to be antagonistic, we’d managed to leave things with some hard feelings. Well, okay, maybe mostly me. I was still a little burned about Hugh trading SURGE drive and SCUT communications technology with ANEC, the Heaven’s River administrator, without so much as a by-your-leave. Although I had to admit the AI tech he’d gotten in return was probably a good deal.
I sighed as I flipped the message up onto a floating window. I guess I felt a bit proprietary about some of the tech, having invented most of it. Well, Gar and I. That thought took me off on another tangent. I missed Garfield. He’d finally carried through on his threat to go set up his own Skunk Works in the Alpha Centauri system.
Frowning at my inability to concentrate, I focused on Hugh’s message.
Hi Bill,
I know we parted with hard feelings, and I feel bad about that. But I still think it was the right thing to do, so an apology would be hypocritical. Instead, I’d like to invite you to the launch of JOVAH Version 2. This will be the initial step to instantiate our first true AI.
Anyway, it probably won’t be all that dramatic. Really, most of the examples of drama that I can think of are bad. So hopefully just a few short speeches and some miscellaneous geekery. And food.
I’ve attached a token in case you decide to come.
Hugh
I checked the attachment. Tokens were a new security item, introduced in the aftermath of the Starfleet War. They allowed the registered holder to enter a private network between a given set of times, with possibly some limitations in terms of mobility or data access. All part of the new balkanized Bobiverse. It was a sad thing that replicative drift had reached the point where you couldn’t automatically trust other Bobs.
I wasn’t really busy these days, so after a few mils of thought, I decided I’d take him up on his offer. And maybe mend a few fences. I added the item to my calendar and moved on to my next TODO.
Chapter Three:
What’s Up?
Icarus
June 2312
Interstellar Space
Iwas reconfiguring my VR when Dae abruptly popped in. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and looked around at the black walls, floor, and ceiling with horizontal and vertical yellow lines.
“Cute,” he said. “Enterprise holodeck.”
“It seems like an appropriate metaphor for a VR reset,” I replied. “Although kind of meta, if you think about it. You generally ping me before popping over. Something’s up.”
Dae shrugged. Even from a Bob point of view, we knew each other’s behavior far too well. “Uh, yeah. The surveys I’ve been doing of passing systems … ”
“You found something? What?”
“Something.” Dae chuckled. “That sounded Guppy-like, even to me. Nevertheless. I need your eyes and your opinion.”
“Sure thing. Entertain me.”
Dae growled under his breath but popped up a window. I spent several mils examining the telemetry. A system that we’d just recently come even with was emitting microwaves. Not a ton of them, and only from a couple of spots. But …
“That’s not natural,” I said.
“Yup,” he replied. “Remember we were talking about reasons to stop?”
“Uh-huh. Ask and ye shall find. GUPPY!”
Guppy appeared.
[You rang?]
Ignoring the gibe, I replied, “Begin deceleration, maximum safe rate. Contact Dae’s Guppy and coordinate. Let us know when you’ve established an expected date to have dropped to galactic orbital velocity, and we’ll set up our destination system.”
Guppy nodded and disappeared.
“He nodded,” Dae said. “You programmed that?”
“No, I think he just picked it up from us. But it’s an improvement from just disappearing, so I’m gonna go with.”
Dae chuckled. “I guess we should squirt a preliminary report back to Bill as well.”
“Yep. Looks like we’re back on the clock.”
Chapter Four:
A Foreboding Conversation
Bob
February 2336
En route to 82 Eridani
Iwas several years into my journey toward 82 Eridani. It would take a little longer than otherwise because I was limiting my top speed in order to stay in touch with the rest of the Bobiverse. The fallout from my last self-imposed isolation had been a little too traumatic, with the number of changes I had to contend with when I reconnected—like the Skippies, and Starfleet. This time I was determined to stay up to date on things.
I hadn’t talked to Will in a while, but his blog, while sparsely updated, told me he was juggling a number of balls, so I didn’t want to pester him without good reason.
And I had my own projects going, including helping ANEC with the basic setup for the proposed post-life VR for Quinlans, which had been dubbed the Quiniverse. If and when Theresa Sykorski died, I wanted a stable operating environment for her. We had already agreed that she should be the first Quinlan replicant, given her education and standing in Quinlan society.
And speaking of which, I had a meeting with ANEC coming up. My own VR redesign was going slowly anyway. I’d tried various Earth settings, themes from fiction, and extraterrestrial locations. None had really clicked. In a moment of frustration, I waved a hand and brought back my original library, complete with Spike the cat and my butler, Jeeves. I bit back a snarl, flopped into my La-Z-Boy, and signaled Jeeves for a coffee. Spike immediately jumped into my lap and headbutted my chin.
Okay, there was something to be said for tradition.
ANEC pinged me as I was finishing my coffee, and I invited him in. A six-foot-tall otter-slash-beaver-slash-platypus mashup appeared, looked around, and plunked himself down on a couch. ANEC insisted on appearing only in Quinlan form, even when interacting with ex-humans. His only acknowledgment that he was dealing with non-Quinlans was making his avatar two feet taller than average Quinlan height.
