Bolos: The Triumphant Part 14

Kalima scooted her keyboard aside and stood up. "That's odd. Mom! I'm going for a walk!"

"Be careful, dear."

Kalima rolled her eyes. "Brad's going along!"

"h.e.l.lo, Bradley! Have a nice walk!"

"Thank you, Dr. Tennyson."

He didn't smile, which thoroughly alarmed Kalima. She whistled and called for Sufi. The dog she'd grown up with bounded into the living room.

"Let's go for a walk, Sufi."

Sufi swished her tail and barked once.

They headed for Brad's house and walked through the deep conifer needles to the back.

"He trotted off that way." Brad pointed.

"Sufi, s.h.i.+va's missing. Can you find him?"

Sufi barked emphatically and bounded off into the trees. Brad jogged after her and shed his jacket, which he draped over a tree limb at the edge of the yard. Kalima noticed uneasily that he'd thrust a gun into a holster on his belt. She hadn't noticed, earlier.

"Brad, what gives? There haven't been any ybin attacks in years."

"Something's happened to s.h.i.+va," he said grimly over one shoulder. "Do you really want to go one-on-one against a ybin without a gun?"

"Uh . . . no."

Two hundred yards into the trees, Sufi halted and sank down onto her belly, growling low in her throat. Brad went to ground behind her. Kalima ate pine needles, then scooted forward cautiously to peer over the dog's shoulder.

Her breath caught.

s.h.i.+va lay about ten yards ahead. The dog's head was turned away from them, but even from this distance Kalima could tell the animal was dead or critically wounded. Blood had spattered everywhere and soaked into the pine straw under his dark fur.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Brad's jaw muscles looked like iron. A soft snick reached her ears. He'd drawn the gun and slipped off the safety.

"Stay here. You're not armed and I am."

He inched forward. Sufi was still growling.

A flash of sunlight on metal caught Kalima's attention. Before she could yell a warning, s.h.i.+va whined sharply and tried to lunge toward the trees. His back legs didn't move. Brad yelled something and fired wildly. Kalima heard a scream of metal on metal; then an energy bolt slammed into a tree trunk less than a millimeter from Brad's ear. He dove behind the tree and fired again. Something slammed solidly into another tree trunk. s.h.i.+va was whining hysterically. Sufi snarled low in her throat and lunged out of Kalima's grip.

"Sufi! Down!"

Another energy beam sliced through the trees. Sufi yelped, but kept going. Brad lunged for the dog and fired again at something Kalima couldn't quite see. Then Sufi snarled and the sound of bending metal squealed through the trees.

"Got it!" Brad snarled. He lunged to his feet and dove forward. "Mother of-"

Kalima covered the intervening ground in half a heartbeat.

"What-" She broke off with a horrified gasp.

The thing was small, not even as large as Sufi's torso. Eight mangled, spike-like appendages dangled from it. Two holes through its--body? head?--leaked a thin, foul-smelling fluid. Kalima saw dark, blue-black hair under its body armor. A bulge on one side was completely encased in metal, although two lenses reminded her of goggles. An alien weapon, resembling a long, thin rifle, lay in the pine straw under Sufi's paw. The dog still snarled over the inert body, fangs bared.

"My G.o.d," she whispered, "it's a Deng. An advance infantry probe. My G.o.d."

Brad stomped the thing, making certain it was dead, then checked Sufi's injury. "Spodders are back," he said, through clenched teeth. "Got s.h.i.+va and waited for someone to come looking for him. Sufi's burned across the shoulder, here; but she's not critical. Can you walk, girl?"

The dog barked an emphatic affirmative. Brad confiscated the spodder's weapon and tested it against a nearby tree trunk. Bark sizzled and chipped loose. The burn scar stank. So did s.h.i.+va's blood. Kalima glanced through the gloom in the deep woods, hunting for any hint of Deng activity, any glint of sunlight on metal. The silence, which she had always enjoyed, was suddenly ominous.

"If they were laying a trap," she said softly, "then they wanted a captive. Information. My G.o.d- We've got to get Gonner."

"He can't fight."

"He's the best we've got!"

Brad glanced at the crippled dog at their feet. Pain filled his eyes.

"Let's take him to Mom first," Kalima decided. "If anyone can help him, Mom can. I'll bring the . . . the Deng's body. We're going to need proof. Then we'll warn Gonner."

Kalima tucked the shattered Deng infantryman under her belt, so that it dangled by half its broken legs, then scooped up s.h.i.+va without asking. Brad was armed. She wasn't. He couldn't afford to have his hands enc.u.mbered with anything but his weapon. Sufi, limping but alert, brought up rear guard. They ran most of the way.

"Sufi," she gasped, as they jolted past Brad's house, "go get Hal Chin. I don't care what he's doing, get him here. We've got to inform Sector and the Navy . . ."

The dog bounded away. Brad held the door for Kalima.

"Mom! Mom, we got big trouble!"

-14-.

I become aware of an energy pattern which does not fit the configuration of colony transmissions. I compare it with known patterns in my Experience Section data banks. I find a damaged memory cell where the information I seek should be stored. This energy source functions on W-Band radiation. There is a reason this puts me on heightened alert status, but I can no longer retrieve the information which would tell me why.

I broaden the range of my sensor scan. A thousand-meter, 360 degree sweep reveals more such energy transmissions, all in the W-Band. This is sufficiently disturbing to place myself on Battle Reflex Alert Status. I call my Commander. There is no answer on the Base receiver which she has rigged to communicate with my Action/Command center. I am now alarmed. My previous Commander died in action due to my failure. I will not repeat this error. My engines have been repaired. I move forward and pull free of concrete debris without difficulty. My treads are rusted but functional. I swivel my turret scanners and pick up further sources of W-Band transmissions.

I move in the direction of these transmission sources. I will discover the cause of my heightened alert status. I call my Commander again and receive no reply. Alarm deepens in my Introspection Complex ego-gestalt circuitry. I fear for my young Commander's life and I fear the return of shame and failure.

A forest has grown on the ridge during the time I have spent guarding the former compound gates. I push aside sixty-foot trees and grind their branches under my treads. It is good to move again. I seek the cause of the W-Band transmissions. My long-range sensors pick up metallic shapes. I zoom-focus. Enemy! I identify Deng Cla.s.s One Yavac Heavy units in the valley behind the former Base. I see Deng Cla.s.s C Yavac Scouts in the forest. The Cla.s.s C Scouts move on jointed appendages. They resemble their makers, moving quickly on multiple legs. The forest proves no barrier to their mode of transportation and offers concealment. They are followed closely by Cla.s.s B Light-Armored Yavac units.

These units do not enter the forest. I a.n.a.lyze their battle formation and interpret their plan of attack. They will wait until the lightly armored Cla.s.s C Scout units strike in a diversionary force through the forest. Once the colony's attention is diverted, the heavier Cla.s.s B and Cla.s.s One Yavacs will cut through the forest in a swathe that will flank the colony and encircle it. I attempt to turn my guns and they rotate out of control. I cannot bring my weapons to bear. I call my Commander again.

"Unit Six Seven Zero GWN to Base. Report."

"Gonner! Where are you? We found a Deng infantry probe in the forest!"

"Affirmative. I observe a force of six Cla.s.s One Yavac Heavy Units, fifteen Cla.s.s B Light-Armor Yavac Units, eleven Cla.s.s C Yavac Scouts and approximately seven hundred infantry and forward infantry probes forming cla.s.sic wedge-shaped attack formation seven hundred yards west of the former Base. I antic.i.p.ate a diversionary attack on vector 085 by the Cla.s.s C Yavac Scouts. The main attack force will then flank on vector 097 and encircle the colony. I have taken position a thousand yards south of the main attack force. My weapons systems remain inoperational. I await orders."

I do not recognize my Commander's next words. She speaks briefly in a language for which I have not been programmed. She then says, "I don't know how to fix you, Gonner."

"There is a 27.35 percent possibility that I have discovered a way to bypa.s.s my damaged fire-control circuits, using a cybernetic biological replacement unit."

My Commander does not answer.

"Unit Six Seven Zero GWN of the Line, awaiting orders, Commander Tennyson."

"Uh, Unit Six Seven Zero GWN, report to Base immediately. That's, uh, my house. Can you find it?"

"Affirmative."

I pivot and retrace my route. I use Emergency speed to reach the edge of the new colony. A crowd of humans has gathered in the street. I have never seen this town, but my data banks contain information uploaded from my Commander. I find her house and a.s.sume a guard position beyond the door.

"Unit Six Seven Zero GWN, reporting as ordered."

The door opens. I know my Commander. I know Dault. I know the dog Sufi. I do not see the other dog, s.h.i.+va. I do not know the woman who follows my Commander into the street.

"Unit Six Seven Zero GWN, report. What is the procedure you mentioned that might fix you?"

I give my Commander a full report.

"Unthinkable!" This is the other woman. " 'Lima, this is madness-"

"Those are Deng warriors out there, Mother! I don't intend us to become another Donner's Party! You heard the Navy's response--we're on our own out here! No one can get to us in time."

Another voice I do not know speaks from my left flank. " 'Lima, Donner had this Bolo and lost. And it's crippled. There's not much we can do."

Dault speaks. I hear stress in his voice. "You filthy coward! You can beat up on a kid half your size, but a real fight's too much for you? You'd better get your surgery ready, then. You're going to be busy."

The other man departs, in haste.

"Mom, can you do it?"

"I will not dissect a human being-"

"Gonner, does it have to be a human being?"

My Commander's question is a valid one. There is another suitable sentient being besides humans in the colony. I calculate the odds.

"Probability drops to 25.89 percent if a genetically enhanced dog is used in place of a human being. I cannot fight under current conditions. If I cannot fight, the Deng will eliminate this colony."

Again, I detect stress in Dault's voice. "Use s.h.i.+va. He's crippled. We'll need the other dogs."

"Mom?"

I detect no audible answer. My Commander's parent enters the house. I await further commands.

"Gonner, what do we do while you're in surgery? We've got to stall, buy enough time for Mom to try this."

I review archival information my Commander has provided.

"Agricultural and earth-moving equipment will not withstand direct hits. They may slow down the Yavac Heavy and Light-Armored Units. They should provide a barrier against infantry. Dig pits and fill them with ore-cleaning acid. Cover the pits. There will be very little time before the diversionary strike begins. The main a.s.sault will follow in approximately 5.03 minutes after the diversionary strike. You will need to situate most of your forces to counter the main attack, in case the surgical procedure on my fire-control circuits fails. Commander Tennyson, Deng are methodical. They will follow battle plans to the death. If the surgical procedure is a success, I will attack the main a.s.sault force from the rear. This will not be expected. It is our best chance of defeating a Deng force of this size."

"You heard him. d.i.c.kson, get that earth-moving equipment going. We need pits, p.r.o.nto. Sally, how much of that acid does your plant have in stock?"

"Five hundred thousand gallons, give or take."

"Commandeer any heavy equipment you need to move it. There isn't much time. Sufi, you're pretty vulnerable without armor, but you can take out their advance infantry scouts and you can form ambushes in places too small for us. Take your pups and their pups and position yourselves here, here, and all along here."

My Commander points to a map of the colony. Her decisions are tactically sound. My new data tells me her father is a war hero. I am proud to serve under his daughter.

"Gonner, I've got to go. I'll stay in touch over your Command Link. Mom's going to have to enter your personnel hatch. Brad will go with her. He's a good surgeon and he loves s.h.i.+va."

"Understood. I will advise you of my status."

My Commander leaves. Dault climbs to my turret, carrying s.h.i.+va. I ask the dog if he will agree to this procedure. He barks an affirmative. He is a brave fighter. My Commander's parent joins Dault. The procedure begins. I wait.

-15-.

"Easy, boy, easy."

Brad could hardly bear to look after completing the surgery he'd already been required to perform, but he kept his hand on s.h.i.+va's neck and continued to murmur softly to him.

"All done." Dr. Tennyson's voice was dead flat.

He risked a look and gulped.

There wasn't much left of s.h.i.+va. His skull sprouted hardware and leads that fed directly into the Bolo's psychotronic system. His legs were similarly tapped into the fighting machine's systems. His body . . .

Brad had suspended him permanently in a steel cradle, to help cus.h.i.+on him from battle shocks. It was attached directly to the Bolo's internal frame at each rib. Effectively, s.h.i.+va was now part of the Bolo, which is what Gonner'd said was required.

Dr. Tennyson's voice cut into his awareness. "I've hooked his digestive system through here, to void waste. He'll require intravenous feeding--if the Bolo lives through the battle. The spinal block should be wearing off. I've put in a pain block, directly through his brain. He'll be able to function without the distraction of pain. If I've made all the proper connections, s.h.i.+va's now tied directly into the Bolo's psychotronic circuitry. All we have to do now is see if this crazy plan works."

On the Bolo's view screens, Brad caught a glimpse of the pitched battle being waged at the edge of town. Another house went up in a fireball.

"Gonner, how about it?"

The Bolo spoke. "s.h.i.+va, move right paw. Stop."

"Well?"

"My h.e.l.lbore guns and energy repeaters track satisfactorily. The arrangement is not efficient, but it is functional."

Brad probably should have whooped in satisfaction. All he felt was grief and fear.