We Are Legion (We Are Bob)

Book 2: Chapter 11: Mating Dance

Book 2: Chapter 11: Mating Dance

Bob

November 2169

Delta Eridani

The Deltans were coming into their breeding season, and the tension in Camelot was climbing. In the past, stressors like the gorilloid threat had kept things low-key. It’s hard to get amorous when you’re looking over your shoulder every few seconds. But this year the Deltans were top dogs in their environment. The gorilloids had finally figured out the new pecking order. There hadn’t been an attack in almost a month.

A lot of that was due to the busters. Any gorilloid coming within a certain distance of Camelot was met head-on by a forty-pound ball of steel. The encounter was fatal to both, but I could produce more busters faster than the gorilloids could produce more gorilloids. The Deltans rarely even looked up any more at the occasional sonic boom.

I knew more or less what to expect from previous years. Male Deltans vied for the attentions of the females in any of a number of ways. Wrestling matches, mock battles, tests of skill, even good old fashioned bluff and bluster. It was great fun to watch, and generally no one got badly hurt.

This year, though, Archimedes had introduced a new test of skill: spear-chucking. And you couldn’t refuse a challenge. But that wasn’t working out entirely in Archimedes’ favor. The other young males had figured out that they should avoid that particular contest with him, so they were challenging Archimedes first, based on contests of strength. Unfortunately, Archimedes was rather bookish, as Deltans went. I wondered if nerd-dom was a universal thing.

After Archimedes got dropped on his head in a couple of encounters, I decided to teach him some basic jujitsu. It turned out to be harder than expected, because the Deltan skeletal system didn’t always bend the same way as a human’s would. We had to improvise a few locks and throws based on their different physiology.

But the principles were still applicable, and Archimedes was motivated. We narrowed it down to the five or so most useful moves. He spent a day going through the steps in pantomime, establishing the muscle-memory, before he rejoined the circus.

Almost immediately, a couple of young toughs tried to push him around to establish dominance. His response was slow and tentative, but it was a completely new concept and his opponents didn’t even recognize the danger until they were on their butts looking up at him. After that, Archimedes strutted around the village like he owned the place.

Marvin laughed, watching all the antics. “I’m sure there’s some element of vengeance in there. Getting back at all the childhood bullies by proxy, perchance?”

“Y’know, Marvin, this habit of yours of analyzing my motives is a real pain in the ass. Especially since they were your childhood tormenters, too.”

Marvin grinned and waggled his eyebrows. Sadly, he was probably right about my motivation. I was doing what I could to make sure Archimedes did better at the metaphorical mating dance than I had as a teenager. And the more descendants Archimedes created, the sooner the entire tribe would be at or near his level of intelligence. Win-win, as far as I was concerned.

“Moses would know, I think.”

We found Moses with very little effort. He’d found and laid claim to a favorite lounging spot on the south side of the bluff, where he spent his afternoons sitting in the sun, relieving the pain of his stiff joints. I allowed myself a moment of sadness. Moses seemed to have entered that long slide into failing health that was all too common in the elderly. I went through the story again. RâꞐò????ÈṤ

“It does sound familiar,” he said, thoughtfully. “That was Axler, I think.” The translation routine was programmed to render Deltan names in human-pronounceable sounds. It would tag that particular translation for permanent association with the name. “Sadly, he died three or four hands ago. I don’t think anyone else is even close to that old.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Archimedes, Moses, don’t say anything to anyone else about this. I don’t want to start a panic without more information. Marvin and I will do some more investigations. I will also set some drones to a wide perimeter guard. If anyone sees them and asks, just tell them I’m doing a gorilloid count.”

The two nodded, both looking worried.

* * *

“But where have they gone?” Marvin scratched his head, staring at the globe.

“Look, maybe Deltans weren’t their primary prey. Maybe they discovered that Deltans were delicious and started hunting them preferentially. After the Deltans left, they would have just gone back to whatever they normally hunted.”

“Right, which is why I’ve expanded the search. But let’s face it, we’re talking about millions of square miles. A predator can have quite a range.” As he talked, Marvin was dividing the land area on the continent into segments. I could see from the metadata that he was assigning drones to each segment.

He sat back and stared at the results. After a few moments of consideration, he handed it off to Guppy for implementation and turned to face me.

“How are we for busters?”

I raised my eyebrows in alarm. “Damn. Good point. I haven’t been keeping up with production. Between the gorilloids all growing a collective brain, and us taking the printers off-schedule to build the extra exploration drones, we’re down to less than a dozen.”

Marvin grinned. “Welp. There goes the schedule again, I guess.”