We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 4: Chapter 27: Just Passing Through

Book 4: Chapter 27: Just Passing Through

Bob

July 2334

Utopia River

Bridget spent some time walking around, talking to the crew. I knew she was trying to get sociological data, so I left her to it. I was more interested in the changeover to the Utopia River. I asked Malin about it, and she just turned and glanced at Kar. Apparently he was either the official spokescritter for this group, or the only one who had the energy to talk.

“We’ve switched rivers a couple of times,” Kar said. “It’s a little rough in the middle part of the connector, which is why we like to hop on a boat. But you could go it on your own if you had to.”

“Do you know why?” I said this as innocently as I could, but I was really interested in Kar’s level of knowledge.

He shrugged in response. “It’s the way the world is. It’s how the Administrator made it. We don’t question or judge.”

How the administrator made it? That sounded an awful lot like a religious statement. Were Quinlans starting to think of the Administrator as a deity?

Bridget came back to our group and lay down. “We’re just entering the Gronk tributary now. That spit of land”—she pointed downstream—“is where it splits from the Arcadia. It does a half circle and dumps us out going downstream on the Utopia. Three Lagoons is on the far shore, so we’ll have to jump ship and start swimming right away.”

“You’re going to Three Lagoons?” Kar asked. “Why bother? We’re looking for a good patch of shore to homestead. Why not join us?”

Bridget smiled at him. “We have plans, Kar. I’m a seeker. My friends and I want to go home eventually. We’re not looking to start fresh.”

Kar shrugged, plainly not devastated.

We soon hit the section of Gronk where the river-bottom impellers were most noticeable. The river’s surface took on the appearance of a mild set of rapids, and the current became choppy and uneven. I knew what was going on. The impellers were creating a form of storm surge, as the water was forced to pile up. A quick android eyeball estimate put the surge level at a couple of feet in height.

The boat bucked and tried to turn off its heading, and one of the howns bleated in fear. The other animals turned briefly to look at it without interrupting their measured gait on the treadmill. I was impressed by these beasts. They seemed capable of walking all day at the same plodding pace, fed and watered regularly by the crew without even stopping. Perhaps it was hown heaven.

The battering lasted less than ten minutes, although I had to admit to myself that it would have been pretty hard to endure in the water, at least for a native Quinlan. As we came out of the apex of the tributary’s curve, our view gradually opened up to the Utopia River, flowing in the opposite direction of the Arcadia. Far in the distance I could just make out the barest impression of a town. Three Lagoons. Bridget was already having a conversation with the deckhand, gesturing occasionally in that direction.

She came over to us and made a get off your asses motion. “Time to bail, boys. If we start now, we won’t have to fight the current too much when crossing.” She nodded to Kar. “Nice to have met you and your friends. Maybe we’ll see each other in the future.”

Kar nodded back without comment. The other three hardly registered the conversation.

We said a general goodbye to the boat crew and dove into the river. Swimming submerged, we put on some extra hustle, but not enough to cause any consternation in our erstwhile shipmates. We didn’t want to pop up an impossibly long distance away. We’d probably never see these people again, but why take chances? ???O????

Three Lagoons looked, from the water, like a significantly larger-than-average town, and perhaps more cosmopolitan. That would make Bridget happy, since it would almost certainly mean a bigger library, or maybe even several. We marched up the dock ramp, one at a time, part of a steady stream of Quinlans. It felt a little like rush hour. Did Quinlans have rush hours in Heaven’s River?

While it seemed unlikely that word of us would have spread across rivers, it felt like basic common sense to not be seen together, at least while coming into town. As before, we each had our tasks to perform. Garfield had suggested on the way over that he’d like to do the pub crawl, but I’d claimed seniority, earning me a low growl.

In short order, Garfield had us a room at a transient hotel, Bridget had directions to a library, Bill reported no suspicious activity at the dock, and I had a beer.

I had picked the pub closest to the river, since it seemed likely that it would have the most diverse customer base. The others joined me and ordered meals and drinks.

“I’m going to head for the library right after lunch,” Bridget informed us. “Before you wankers manage to screw things up and get us run out of town.”

“One time,” I muttered.

“Two, honestly,” Garfield said. “At least we haven’t burned anything down, yet.”

“The day is young,” Bill muttered.

Bridget smirked at him, wiped her haora, and marched off with a parting wave.

“So, what shall we do?”

I grinned at Bill. “I vote for eavesdropping while blending in.”

The vote was unanimous. I signaled for three more.

The beer wasn’t half-bad, but the scuttlebutt was strictly local stuff. After an hour of way too much information about people’s financial and relationship problems, Bill and Garfield decided to check out other pubs. I couldn’t blame them, but I maintained my theory that the dockside pub was the most likely place to get something other than routine conversations.

After three more hours, I was starting to doubt my logic. I’d learned more than I ever wanted to know about the daily dealings of Quinlans, but nothing that would raise an eyebrow. I pinged Bridget to see what she might have discovered. And got dead air.

“Guys? Guys? Bridget’s not answering. Something’s happened.”

No answer.