"Limited data available. Personal notes would be kept on personal hard drives, which this unit does not have access to and cannot accurately assess. However, an intercepted transmission implies a Ms. Yvette Linwood kept records related to the study of the soul that were fairly valuable."

"Is she awake?"

"Yes."

"Then—how can I contact her?"

"Intercepted transmission implies that she is contactable via X-band radio waves. However, data implies that a Mr. George Hanigan has access to Ms. Linwood's files, and that she does not. Contents of intercepted transmission imply that she is displeased with this state of affairs. Would you like to view a transcript of the transmission?"

"—yeah, sure."

14:53 [ylinwood]: I think you have something of mine.

  14:55 [ghanigan]: It's no more yours than anyone else's. You're not the you that you were then, and neither am I. It's all just information from a bunch of dead people. And I needed this hard drive for my research.

14:58 [ylinwood]: Really. All of my personal files. What, are you doing research on my taste in music?

  15:00 [ghanigan]: Hardly.

15:02: [ylinwood]: Then why not just ask for a copy of the relevant information after I woke up? Why not send me a copy of my own files after you stole them, if it's all just a bunch of information from dead people to you?

  15:03 [ghanigan]: There are no legal authorities to enforce anything at all. The rules are whatever we make them, and I cannot afford to spare the resources necessary to send files out to a bunch of amnesiacs.

15:05 [ylinwood]: So you'd like to open with hostility?

  15:07 [ghanigan]: For something as crucial as this? I'm afraid so. My research is very important. You can join me, if you'd like, I'd be happy to have a research assistant.

15:09 [ylinwood]: Are you looking into souls?

  15:11 [ghanigan]: Yes. I want to make sure this memory loss can never happen again. I have no intention of dying like my predecessor.

15:13 [ylinwood]: And the captured phylacteries were... what? Possible assistants?

  15:15 [ghanigan]: I have no guarantee of their personality or talents. The people they were died on the way here. Perhaps I'd get lucky if one would be amenable, but I try not to rely on luck.

15:17 [ylinwood]: ... They're for experimentation?

  15:19 [ghanigan]: Correct! I hardly want to test protections against soul degeneration personally, and if they never wake up, then no suffering has been caused. As I said, the people they were are already dead.

15:25 [ylinwood]: Ah. I see. That changes things. Send coordinates to my bots for meetup? You've convinced me of your chance of success. I would like to help you with your research.

  15:27 [ghanigan]: Excellent!

...he thinks she's lying.

"What time is it?"

"By standardized timekeeping in this system, 17:43."

"Has she arrived at her destination yet? —and what sorts of bodies do we even have?"

"One moment. Calculating." There is a very brief pause. "Calculation complete. If she left at the time of final message, it would be another three hours, forty-six minutes, thirty-seven point two three three repeating seconds until she arrived at the destination. For Mr. Hanigan, it would be five hours, forteen minutes, fifty-one point five six four seconds. Please be advised that these numbers were estimated from insufficient data, and could be subject to change."

This relayed, the robot moves on to the second question.

"Your soul is housed in the 134th version of the R9X-Orpheus phylactery series, built specifically for the unique requirements of IRI. You have two attached arms with three digits each that are capable of fine motor control, thermal and radiation shielding, six different cameras, and full Virtual Reality integration, capable of syncing with nearby compatible phylacteries for shared simulations."

"How long do I take to get there?"

Pause.

"Four hours, seven minutes, twenty-nine seconds, calculated from an immediate course change."

"Then let's go."

"Course adjusted. Satellite is now inbound to coordinates. Silent mode remains engaged, other satellites are unlikely to detect us unless sufficiently trained magic user is actively searching."

"Cool!" Pause. "What now?"

"Primary mission directives are to finish terraforming of 4-692370162-49335-7B, wake all members of IRI, begin using the genetic database to seed new life, and to record data of this new solar system for scientific study."

"—right, okay, no, that's not what I meant. I meant—what do I do on the way there? What, uh, is there to do around here?"

"You have full control over your simulation, and access to your own and publicly available data, which contain lessons on various subjects, schematics for various things you could build, and a wide plethora of media entertainment. You have full control over your satellite's direction and the signals it gives off. If there is anywhere in the solar system you would like to go, navigation systems will assist. You can send messages to other mission participants, or tell the instruments on your satellite to watch for certain signals in the solar system."

"My files, that sounds like a good thing to read, how do I go about doing that?"

A screen appears in front of him, with a large symbol set on a steel grey background. Little icons are arranged on the screen, lighting up and displaying additional explanatory text of their contents when he gazes at them.

Ooh! Okay, he can probably spend four hours reading about himself.

He didn't keep any kind of journal, but he has a huge list of contacts, and a number of saved news articles about himself. Some have variously flattering pictures attached of him, in varying states of dress, or in some cases, undress. There are a few such pictures that come with no article attached, and are... very artfully made. And definitely missing all of his clothes. Goodness, he's pretty.

He has copies of several research papers written on various topics, including a number written by Yvette Linwood; it seemed like she specialized in the interface between souls and VR. It also looked like he kept up with affairs of several companies, all ones he was involved with, one way or another.

He also has a rather impressive library of VR simulations.

He is super hot. And apparently he knew this Yvette, cool! He has lots of stuff to read.

But now he's curious about the VR.

He can ski down an avalanche! Or fight a dragon with a sword! Or go sailing in space through a nebula, despite this not making very much sense without a suit and more equipment than ropes and some flimsy reflective cloth! He can choose a class and go dungeon crawling, as a mage, a warrior, or a rogue, and kill monsters and defeat bosses and collect loot! He has many empty environments that he can choose to fill with his large library of objects and creatures, either personally or by asking his robots to do it for him. There are pretty scenic views and expensive restaurants with all kinds of food to try and a nearly endless wardrobe of clothes he could wear. If he'd like to design something, he can do that. It's trivial to change the color and texture and shape of things. If he can imagine something and describe it reasonably well to his robot, he can have it.