Forever Endeavor Text - 2 of 3

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TEXT - SECTION I, PART I (Continued)

F - THE LANARA/BoB STORY

BUSTER DESCRIBES BoB
Lanara and myself owe our current existence to the BoB module. BoB's existence stems from the human creators who constructed and programed him millions of years ago. He is the highest technological achievement of "the late 21st Century." That's what he calls it. It was a time when humanimals like yourself covered the globe. And various regions of space. These billions of humanimals were engaged in unceasing activity -- from mundane to glorious activities, as their wills dictated. Some of these endeavors were dangerous, jeopardizing their continued survival. And it was this jeopardy that inspired BoB's creation.

He was built to integrate all artificial functions then possible technologically. He was programed with the entire database extant on Earth in the late 21st Century. BoB was designed for extreme durability. Organic forms might pass from reality, but he would endure -- theoretically forever. Owing to societal upheavals, he was given a mission that would preserve organic humanity beyond any catastrophes.
A fertilized egg was entrusted to BoB for safe-keeping. And he was interred deep beneath Antarctica which at the time was encased in masses of frozen water. He was to await a reactivation signal in the indeterminate future, at which time he would rise to the surface and bring his precious cargo to full maturity. The signal never came.

BoB, in his internment, subsisted on a supposedly unlimited self-contained power supply. However, after three million years that supply had deteriorated significantly and BoB would soon be dead. Therefore, he terminated his vigil and took his own initiative. He rose to the surface before his power was expended, renewed his energy with solar radiation, and proceeded to carry out his mission in a world apparently devoid of humanimals.
He grew the egg into the human who became Lanara, and used his encoded knowledge to educate her with an above average intellect equal to the most advanced individuals of the 21st Century.

He has told me that he regrets the limits of his intelligence. His information stops with what was available in the Global Data Network of his time. There is much about this present world that is beyond his archaic knowledge. The greatest mystery that plagues him is the fact that he is alone. He says there were others of his kind programed with identical missions. The others were just as durable as himself. Yet only he survived. To him, this makes no sense.
He intended to raise the girl Lanara until she was independent. Then he would concern himself with the fate of his other copies. He has refrained from directly exploring the solar system until Lanara was completely self-sufficient. However, the advent of the killer light beams put Lanara and her environment at such risk, BoB was unable to abandon her and pursue his own quest.

Now, apparently, he never will.

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BACKGROUND:
BoB -- Acronym for "Billions of Brains," referring to his data base capacity. "He" is properly an "it," but "it" has such a distinct personality that "it" deserves a human appellation -- hence, "He." ("He" is so square and hard, he couldn't possibly be considered a "She.")

BoB was designed and created in the late 21st Century by "Comp-Active Distribution," a fledgling corporation formed to market the newly perfected "Meta-Plane" (M-P) technology -- the apogee of user-friendly AI computer engineering.

Trouble happened when the "C.-A.D." craftsmen pushed this advanced technology to its logical limits, designing an ultra-machine they called "Square Route" -- a cute trademark derived from tediously overstated cliches of the times, such as "what is the route to wisdom?," "adhere to the route to destiny," "maintain redemption's route," etc., ad infinitum. The "Square Routes" were nicknamed "S.R.s" (Essers), also known as "Seniors," or -- jokingly -- "Sirs" (Question:  "What do you call a super-intelligent omnipotent computer?" Answer:  "Sir.")

The SR was built to last forever, to serve any need required by its owner, and to provide any information known to Mankind, as well as being a witty companion when boredom threatens. It could fulfill any function, from a talking, flying vibrating sofa, to an instant photon-bomb shelter. Its hyper-molecular holo-phasic memory included all the data stored in the Global Archive Network of its day (billions-of-brains worth of information), and was fully capable of providing a blissful eternal personal Utopia to anyone who owned it.

That was the problem.

Despite strict secrecy during its development, rival corporate interests became aware of the project when they detected the entire Global Net Data Base being downloaded into a single source -- the SR prototype (BoB). Typically rampant corporate espionage penetrated "C-AD's" security, and the impact of the "Square Route" product was instantly recognized: it would put just about everybody out of business.

Antagonistic forces converged on "C-A Distribution" and halted production before more than a dozen copies could be produced. Government agencies confiscated the SRs, dismantled the company, and wiped out any memory of its existence. For a long time, the disposition of those twelve legendary indestructible SRs was unknown -- but that's another story.

A clandestine group of well-placed cynical futurists known as "Omigod Unlimited," entered the picture and surreptitiously acquired the SR prototype that had escaped detection by the authorities.

"Omigod Unlimited" was justifiably pessimistic about the future and they foresaw a bleak period of history that would endanger the very survival of the human species. The group was dedicated to preserving what it could of humanity's best qualities, and they virtuously employed their stolen SR toward this goal. They programed BoB to preserve a carefully selected human Zygote for centuries, or even millennia, then revive and grow the protected human at some point in time when the threat of extinction had passed. BoB was secretly buried deep under Antarctica and served as a mute monument to "OU's" good sense and far reaching vision.


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TEXT - SECTION I, PART I (Continued)

G - AMES & BUSTER EXAMINE BOB (Continued)
Sherman returns, but conceals himself behind the gouged earth to listen and watch, unwilling to intrude.
BoB is saying, "-- and you didn't think to notify me at once? Yes, I know you thought I was dead, but weren't you concerned enough to consult me anyway? Couldn't you have prayed or something?"
Buster is still chagrined. "BoB, you have never been so confused in your speech. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Do I look all right? Do I sound all right? Is anything ever all right?"
"I can easily remove myself if --"
"Enough. Okay, I'll calm down. How long do you think Lanara has been absent?"
"I have no sense of duration, BoB. You know that. She's gone. She'll always be gone. You must simply accept events as they occur."

H - LANARA'S ARRIVAL PRECIPITATES DISASTER
Suddenly a disembodied female voice says, "I think not." A shimmering globe wavers in the air, then dissipates, leaving a transformed Lanara standing beside Buster. "If you're going to accept things as they are, you might as well turn back into a plant, Buster."
Buster jumps, startled, then embraces her gleefully. "Lanara! I thought you were dead!"
BoB says, "He's been thinking that a lot lately."
Lanara: "I was beginning to wonder, too, BoB. Why couldn't I find you? Were you mad at me? I thought you'd never call."
"So you were able to get a fix on my focus-beacon. Sorry about the delay, but Buster didn't tell me you were gone until--"
Buster: "If you want to blame me, I could easily remove--"
Lanara: "Shut up, stupid. Just let me hug you. I was afraid I'd never find my way back. It was very strange. Where was I, BoB? Do you have any idea?"
"You were outside our conditioned reality, apparently. I don't know much about other planes. My database is contradictory in those areas, befuddled in human mysticism and theory. You seem to have changed, child. How do you feel?"
"All right now, but I was somewhere very different. Time and space were behaving so oddly, and I seemed to be all alone, but I really wasn't, and then I went someplace else that was even more peculiar and I found this thing, and --"

Sherman stands up and interrupts, "Excuse me, but have you noticed the multitude of stationary animals you've captivated?"
Lanara jumps. "Who --?"
Then Buster jumps. "The beams!"
Then BoB jumps. "It'll boost to full saturation in seconds! Quickly -- come into my cone!"
Buster hops inside BoB. Lanara hesitates, glaring at Sherman. "Who is this guy?"
BoB: "In less than a minute, there will be no place left to stand. Get in -- I'm taking you away."
"I'm not leaving! Who is that guy?"
Buster shouts: "There goes the first beam! Listen to BoB. Sherman, get in here. And pull Lanara in too!"

Sherman leaps into the cone and fastens a hand on Lanara's wrist. However, her strength is equal to his and she holds back, preparing to strike him, but the ensuing conflagration diverts her attention. Hundreds of animals, paralyzed into inactivity, are succumbing to an increasing barrage of beams.
She gasps. "It can't happen! BoB, make it stop!" BoB barks, "It's out of control. Buster, I'm going to fuse-fire my rim to achieve escape velocity. Get Lanara inside and away from the rim or you'll all be dead in the next instant. DO IT!"
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LANARA RETURNS
Buster:  Is it really you, Lanara? You've changed.
Lanara:  Why? Do I look different?
BoB:  Most notably, your legs are 30% longer.
La:  Really? Huh. I thought the ground looked farther away.
BoB:  Also, your hair has been replaced by an animated pan-dimensional fractal.
La:  Oh yeah. Do you like it?
BoB:  And you are enclosed in a membrane that blocks all out-going and in-coming radiation. I can only see you in the visible band. You are invisible to X-Ray, UV, IR…
La:  So how do you know I'm really here?
BoB:  Your mass displaces air and soil volumes which are easily detectable. But -- by any standard known to me -- you would be considered a mere projection.
La:  How do you explain that? Am I dead?
BoB:  Perhaps your psuedo-dimensional envelope presents a presence of you in this visual world, while the rest of you is somewhere else -- separate in a deeper dimensional structure. A fossil of sorts, representing an image of a being removed from Time.
La:  Hmm. Am I still me?
BoB:  Do you think you're you?
La:  I guess. Hey! Why can't I smell? I can't taste, either.
BoB:  The membrane coats the delicate sensors of the nose and tongue, preventing passage of air molecules.
La:  But I can see -- and hear.
BoB:  These are senses that can pass through your envelope -- aspects of the visible world permeable to your skin.
La:  Okay. If I'm a transdimensional fossil, how come I feel alive here and now?
BoB:  Your interface with our dimension is not time-dependent. A simulation of your presence is completely interactive with our reality -- yet, your actual organic substance is rooted in a distantly removed realm. A trilobite, living in Cambrian seas, exists simultaneously with its fossilized replica a billion years later. For us, it can be felt, seen, noted -- but its true living form is dimensionally removed by a span of time. In a transdimensional medium, time doesn't exist -- all things are simultaneous.
La:  Then why do I feel like time is going by normally?
BoB:  The interface that is responding to me is tuned to our frequency of temporal existence. Perhaps the creature on your head is stabilizing your form.
La:  And you think my real self is off somewhere, unconscious and in stasis within a transdimensional bubble.
BoB:  It's a theory.
La:  If we accept it, it would seem to me that the other self is the fossil, and I'm the active living form right here talking to you.
BoB:  That works. I was referring to the true location of your actual physical substance, but if we consider animated interaction as our criteria for a living presence, then--
La:  Never mind. I'm getting a headache. Do fossils get headaches?

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