Bolos: Old Guard Part 2

"Kuro, please . . ." Serina struggled for another breath, "please do not ever do that again. I thought you were a daeger."

The orca rose up from the water and nodded its head in delight, sending small waves to lap up against the smooth tiled walls of the pool.

"Daeger would never come here," said the voice from the speakers. "You are foolish."

Serina's laugh quieted to deep breaths as she retrieved her notebook, and sat back down again. Tears had formed in her eyes and she wiped them away. As much as she disliked being called foolish, Kuro was right. Daeger were territorial creatures and wouldn't be wandering the sh.o.r.eline like this. And as large as daeger were, they couldn't break through the t.i.tanium bars protecting the viaduct.

"You only left last night," Serina spoke into her transmitter, "what are you doing back?"

"I found a reef full of those colorful eels that you wanted."

"Really! That's wonderful! Can you locate it on the computer map?"

"I already have. Will you want to go there tomorrow?"

Serina sighed heavily and shook her head. The creatures were called "painted eels," and the local fishermen had often complained that they would sometimes congregate in a pack and shred their nets to get at their haul. This kind of behavior had never been doc.u.mented before from these normally solitary creatures. She imagined that the sight of these bright red, yellow, and lavender eels swarming would be incredible.

"No, sorry. I'll be very busy. You and Peter will have to go alone."

Her colleague Peter Sallison never especially liked photo a.s.signments, but he'd use any excuse to take the inst.i.tute's thirty-meter jetboat out for a cruise.

"Sad," said the voice from the speakers, though Serina didn't believe it for a minute. She suspected that Kuro had a crush on Peter. "Why will you be busy?"

"My father is visiting. I have to prepare a few things."

"The colonel is on Delas?"

Serina was surprised that Kuro had remembered her mentioning him, but then scolded herself for being so anthropomorphic. The psychotronic enhancements that Kuro had surgically implanted in her not only gave her a near-human intelligence, but also a super-human memory.

"Yes, my father Colonel Is.h.i.+da is on Delas. He'll be visiting me, and I need to make sure that Kaethan comes also so we're all together for a while."

"Is this a female duty?" Kuro asked. It was a common question of hers as she tried to make sense of human society.

"It is in my family," Serina responded despondently. "Kaethan and my father don't get along very well, but I think I can fix things."

"Families should remain together," Kuro said simply.

"Yes, they should," Serina responded just as simply, not wanting to explain any further. "I'd like you stay in the area for the next couple days so I can introduce you to my father when he visits with Kaethan. I've told him so much about you in my messages."

"Will they swim?"

"Kaethan might this time, but you'd have to be gentle with him if he wants to play. He's not as good as Peter is."

Kuro loved playing in the water with Serina and Peter. The orca was gentle with her, but with Peter their play had lately gotten quite acrobatic.

"I'll be careful, Serina. Did you want to play now?"

"Oh . . ." Serina moaned. "I have to finish cataloging these seash.e.l.ls from Oradin for Professor Kilby. Then I have to call Kaethan's commander and tell him to give my brother the next couple days off."

"He'll do what you say?" Kuro didn't hide her confusion.

"Well, he said that he would when I danced with him at Kaethan's promotion celebration last year."

Kaethan hadn't even told his father that he was given command of his heavy armor battalion. His commander, Colonel Neils, was surprised that Colonel Is.h.i.+da wasn't there. Serina was just plain angry.

"Then you'll play?"

Serina had been planning to leave early today to go shopping. She also wanted to make dinner reservations for the next couple nights, though she knew it would be difficult on such short notice. As much as she'd like a nice swim about now, she really didn't have the time. It was so difficult to say "no" to Kuro, though.

"The sh.e.l.ls might take a couple hours," Serina warned her.

"I'll wait."

Serina looked mournfully at the giant black and white head that bobbed in the water. It would be impossible to work while being watched like this. Distant thunder reminded her of how miserable it was outside, and the rain showers wouldn't be pa.s.sing by until nightfall. Shopping would be difficult in weather like this, and she could do the calls tonight when she got home.

"I have to get my swimsuit," she suddenly announced.

The monstrous Bolos were parked on the edge of the starport tarmac, their cannons overlooking the kilometers of green scrubgra.s.s of the Beischal Savannah that stretched out to the south of the starport. The white serrated edges of the scrubgra.s.s flashed in the sporadic sunlight as the wind pa.s.sed in waves over the flat landscape. On a clear day one could see the very tops of the mountains of southern Deladin from here, but today the mists grew dark to the south, shrouding the horizon.

Captain Reginald Brooks had never seen a Bolo firsthand before, and the sight was intimidating. Concordiat Army recruiters often visited Delas, bringing their deadliest and most impressive gravtanks to sway students away from joining the local Guard units. But even their mightiest siege cruisers would seem insignificant next to a Bolo Mark x.x.x. Its 110cm h.e.l.lbore was capable of delivering 2.75 megatons of precision firepower per second, capable of shattering any known armor. But even without that, the Bolos looked as if they could just crush anything that they rolled over. That something so big, and wielding so much firepower, was alive and thinking was unnerving. It didn't help matters when he saw a couple ion bolt turrets swivel in his direction as he approached in his vehicle. Out of instinct, his foot hit the brake hard, skidding his tires briefly.

The remaining distance to the Bolos was traveled more slowly. This seemed to appease the turrets, which stopped tracking his vehicle's motion.

Reginald had not been told about the arrival of these war machines until midafternoon, when General Rokoyan had called personally to give him his orders. The Concordiat colonel's arrival had been expected at Argus, not Starveil, it seemed. Donning his DDC issue light gray uniform, Captain Brooks raced off to the starport to offer Colonel Is.h.i.+da transportation, and whatever else the man might need.

The vehicle that he drove was a land-car, powered by a simple power cell and therefore was somewhat small and light. The few grav-cars that sailed through the sky were all transit authority shuttles and city emergency vehicles. Few grav-cars were owned by individual citizens, as the city feared such unrestricted and uncontrolled air travel. A DDC insignia marked his car to be owned by the Dela.s.sian Defense Command, and Reginald was very careful driving it. He was a clean-shaven model officer, as he was often described in his performance reviews, and he was genuinely proud of it. The valuable solid platinum captain circlets on his high collar, standard issue on the metal rich planet of Delas, reflected brightly next to his black skin and short, cropped black hair.

Except for a few brief squalls, today's storms had pa.s.sed Starveil to the south. It was now late afternoon, and ma.s.sive thunderheads still flashed and rumbled in the distance. The orange Dela.s.sian sun s.h.i.+ned through the dark clouds at times, creating a rainbow to the east of them where light rains still fell over the ocean there. Captain Brooks was thankful for the weather, since the starport's tarmac was unbearably hot on sunny days. On Delas, people appreciated the rain and didn't mind getting wet.

Still, the puddle that Reginald stepped into when leaving his vehicle soaked his sock, and he hated that.

"Good afternoon, Captain."

Brooks was surprised at the sudden appearance of the Concordiat colonel, rounding the backside of the Bolo. There must be some hatch back there, he a.s.sumed.

"Good day, Colonel. Welcome to Delas."

"Thank you. It's been a couple years since I've been here."

At the appropriate distance, Colonel Is.h.i.+da stopped and exchanged salutes with Brooks; then they shook hands. Brooks' dark black skin and large hand contrasted with Toman's small, white hand.

"Then I won't bore you with the planetary briefing that I was told to give you," Captain Brooks told him. "General Rokoyan was surprised that you landed at Starveil instead of Argus. He was looking forward to showing you around our Blackstone Defense Complex."

"I'm not here to make inspections, Captain," Is.h.i.+da said with a pleasant smile. "Starveil is more centrally located on your world. It was better to station my Bolos here."

Reginald once again looked over the ma.s.sive hull that towered over him.

"Of course, we appreciate your help, though I'm not sure I understand the necessity."

"Perhaps we should get out of the heat to talk."

"Of course. But one thing . . ." The captain pointed up high onto the black turret of the Bolo, where there was a silver and blood-red s.h.i.+eld emblazoned with a shadowy figure in black robes, wielding a fiery hammer. "Your insignia has the English s.h.i.+eld design of a regimental strength unit, yet there are only two Bolos on your roster. Or do I have my Concordiat heraldry all wrong?"

"You don't," Toman said, shaking his head. "Chains and Quarter are the only Bolos left from the regiment. Angelrath is temporary a.s.signment until they decide whether to reconst.i.tute the 39th."

"Only two left? Do you think they'll do it?"

"The 39th was formed almost six hundred years ago from three brigades of Mark Nineteens. They've fought on the battlefields of sixteen interstellar wars, and settled countless conflicts. We'd be losing a great deal of history if we broke them up now."

"Aren't Mark Thirties out-of-date?"

"Chains and Quarter each have over two hundred sixty years fighting experience, upgraded to Mark Thirties over a century ago from Twenty-Eights. It would be smartest to upgrade them again and re-form the 39th around them."

"Rather than wasting them garrisoning a far-off outpost?" Reginald completed the colonel's point.

"Exactly." The colonel agreed without expression.

Reginald chuckled and looked up at the insignia again.

"What does . . . what does that Latin say on the insignia."

"It means 'Stand and be Judged,' " said the colonel, again without expression.

Reginald's right eyebrow rose, then he nodded and turned back to his vehicle.

"Hop in," the captain offered. "I'll take you back to the DDC base where you can requisition a vehicle for your stay on Delas."

As Toman walked around the vehicle and got in, he mentally reviewed this planet's military structure again. The "DDC" stood for the Dela.s.sian Defense Command, which meant that the captain was employed with the planetary government. The "DDF" were the Dela.s.sian Defense Forces, which were the local militias. The DDC had no standing troops, though the cities always agreed to lend them their formations for special a.s.signments, if absolutely necessary.

He remembered from previous discussions with his son that the DDF and DDC didn't always get along.

Captain Brooks' vehicle was soundless as its power cell sped them over the tarmac, back towards the starport's terminal. A pa.s.senger aircraft was landing at the far side of the airport, with another waiting to take off on a crossing runway. The cargo shuttle to the Aragonne Isabelle would not be coming back to Starveil on this trip. Most of Dela.s.sian's merchant trade pa.s.sed through Argus, or Reims on Deladin's southeastern sh.o.r.e.

"So why does Angelrath suddenly think we need a couple Bolos to protect us?"

Colonel Is.h.i.+da was surprised that the captain hadn't heard. Had the DDC buried the event, he wondered? The thought occurred to him that certain people might not wish him to talk freely about this, but Toman always hated secrets.

"Almost two standard weeks ago, an alien probe was caught tailing the Ulysses Eridanis as it approached Angelrath, coming from Delas."

"Yes, I heard about that." The captain remained unenlightened. "Didn't it self-destruct when you closed in on it?"

Colonel Is.h.i.+da hesitated a moment as the significance of both events seemed to be lost on the captain.

"Yes," Toman said pointedly, "which identified it as a military probe sent to gather intelligence. We've caught other probes from these aliens, but all were barely trans-light and relatively low-tech. This one was different."

"You believe that the probe was sent as a prelude to an invasion?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the colonel said. "Their initial probes found us. From that point they could have either pulled back from contact, sent a diplomatic envoy, or prepared to attack. That last probe was a.s.suredly meant for the latter."

"Are all planets in this sector being mobilized?"

"No. If their hammer falls, it will likely be here. Your Firecracker Nebula plays havoc with our deep s.p.a.ce detectors, but sporadic communications traffic, and projected courses of these probes, seem to point directly to the nebula. And Delas is, by far, the closest colony we have to the nebula."

"Does General Rokoyan know all of this?"

"Rear Admiral Santi at Angelrath is communicating to him daily over the SWIFT channels, from what I've heard."

This shut Brooks up. The captain obviously felt slighted at not being fully informed about the danger that Delas was in.

The pair remained quiet as Captain Brooks dodged traffic around the terminal, and then drove through security at the starport's main gate. Many factories and industrial complexes had sprung up around the starport since the last time Is.h.i.+da had been at Starveil. It was impressive to see so much construction underway. Huge cranes were lifting gigantic support beams while small swarms of construction robots welded the frames together within fountains of sparks. Great plots of scrubgra.s.s were being cleared away, laying bare the savannah soil that had been long ago judged useless to the plantation owners. Given another century, Toman considered, Delas could very well be the industrial powerhouse running this entire sector. It certainly had the raw materials for it, and now it was building the manufacturing foundations.

The four-lane highway coming from the south had little traffic on it as they increased speed on the on ramp. This changed, though, as they approached the tall buildings of central Starveil. Such concentration of population only confirmed how the planet's work force was rapidly converting from mining and agriculture to manufacturing and service.

"I was told to ask you," the captain spoke up once they were on the highway, "whether your Bolos were going to be poking around our defense network anymore."

"No." The colonel smiled. "We've done all the poking around that we needed. Your network is well maintained and operated, I was told."

"Thank you." The captain was gracious. "General Rokoyan will be pleased to hear that, though he was very upset at the time."

"Do you talk with him often?"

"Me? No, not anymore. I used to work for him at Blackstone, so he knows me personally. But he rarely ever leaves the place, or has any reason to talk to anyone outside of it."

"What do you do here?"

"I'm the liaison between the DDC and the Starveil DDF. All cities have at least one. We try to organize cooperation between the cities in their wargames and acquisition of equipment. It's more work than you'd think."

Colonel Is.h.i.+da nodded, understanding.

Is.h.i.+da was distracted by an impressive site as Brooks turned off the highway. Although the colonel had landed at Starveil several times, he had never had the opportunity to cross the old-style suspension bridge that spanned the Delas River. He had seen it from a distance several times, but never had reason to visit the northeast section of the city. It certainly was not the largest suspension bridge ever created, but it was a rare opportunity to see one outside of Earth.

As the bridge rose higher and higher, the distant treeline north of the city became visible. The jungle beyond was an unbroken ma.s.s of dark green vegetation stretching to the horizon. Turning east, the colonel could just make out the ocean coast beyond the river delta. As the colonel looked down at the barges and ocean transports that were travelling Delas' largest river, Brooks continued to discuss the difficulties of his job.

"It's gotten better lately, but the cities insist on viewing each other as compet.i.tors," the captain was saying. "All of the large mining corporations that first colonized this world staked out their claims, populated their cities, and have been in each other's face ever since. Getting them to work together under any circ.u.mstance is frustrating, even for planetary defense."

"Still no nukes?"

"Not yet." Brooks shook his head. "For now the cities are just concentrating on the h.e.l.lbore turrets. They're still uneasy about letting the DDC control any thermonuclear warheads."

"But they don't mind the ground batteries?"

"Nope. The h.e.l.lbore turrets are fine since they can't be used against ground targets. We're even trying to get various local high-tech industries involved in the Cape Storm battery, but that has made the progress slow. We're hoping that the next battery will have completely Dela.s.sian components."

A n.o.ble goal, Toman thought, but not worth the delay in getting those turrets operational.

"When will Cape Storm become operational?" Toman asked.