Bolos: Honor of the Regiment Part 14

"Oui."

"What was that?" Rheinhardt shouted, desperately searching the multiple displays in his combat visor. He could not hear himself, the explosions outside had been so loud. The air smelled of burnt wiring and hot metal. The Bolo heaved, jerked a little and continued on. "Are you damaged?"

"I have sustained no major loss of combat ability," the Bolo reported. "I am tracking a westward flight of approximately forty jet-propelled aerial vehicles."

"Bombers? Shoot them down!"

"Negative," the Bolo said. "They will be required for future operations."

"They are enemy bombers!" Rheinhardt shouted, slamming a fist against his cushioned restraints in futile emphasis.

"No," the Bolo responded, "they are Noufrench bombers." Rheinhardt's main display changed to a relief map, displaying two flights of aircraft, one receding westward, one approaching from the east.

"Bayerische bombers approaching as predicted," the Bolo noted calmly.

"Shoot down the b.l.o.o.d.y French!" Rheinhardt yelled. "That's a direct order!"

"That contravenes your original order," the Bolo replied.

Rheinhardt was outraged. "My order was to destroy the enemy."

"Nearly correct," the Bolo agreed. "Your orders were to destroy the enemy in an optimal manner. The Noufrench are not the most dangerous enemy, therefore destroying them at this time is non-optimal. I compute that I shall not remain combat effective upon completion of the primary mission. However, my calculations indicate that with the destruction of the enemy, enmity between Noufrance and Bayern will cease, at least as regards further military actions.

"Bombers commencing their run now," the Bolo called. All further reports were lost as a long, loud pounding filled the air. Rheinhardt's body throbbed in the rolling concussions which battered the Bolo's hull. He let out a long scream of sheer terror but never heard it. The earth shook, rolled, steadied.

Several moments later, the Bolo reported, "The bombers have completed their run and are returning to base. Next a.s.sault is in-in-"

Rheinhardt let out a gasp as the Bolo was thrown into the air and fell back to the ground with its metal hull audibly groaning as it was twisted in the blasts. The pounding continued, the hull armor shrieked at the pressures exerted on it. Rheinhardt felt a sharp pressure as his left eardrum burst and a warm trickle as blood rolled out his ear and down his collar.

Screens flickered and shrank in Rheinhardt's CVC helmet. For a moment, everything was black. Then the screens flickered again, the main one dodged left and was replaced by a sea of red critical failure lights.

"Bolo?" Rheinhardt called. Nothing. He tried again, "Das Afrika Korps, report."

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" General Marius crowed, nearly dancing with joy in front of the vid-link display of the ma.s.sive bombing run. Flames flickered in the depths of the explosions, barely visible amongst the huge clouds of smoke that snaked upwards from the ground.

"It's not moving," Major Kruger observed. "We stopped it."

Static crackled in his earphones. A hiss replaced it. "Das Afrika Korps reports. Milnet data-link hardware destroyed as antic.i.p.ated. Minor damage to hull, 20% of reactive armor inoperative but no critical areas exposed. Minor damage to track, increasing c.u.mulative damage from 49% to 51% of combat limit. Additional scoring on external optics, c.u.mulative damage at 37% of combat limit. Degradation and damage to 5% of total on-line data storage devices, operational volatile memory at 57% of total, 3% of volatile memory free.

"Current position forty kilometers from coastal insertion point, next attack antic.i.p.ated in ten minutes."

"Coastal insertion point?" Rheinhardt queried. His momentary surprise at his sore throat was relieved by the realization that he had gone deaf in one ear and was shouting to compensate. Somewhere in the hull metal had melted, he could smell it.

"The antic.i.p.ated point from the land into the sea. At this point air attacks should cease and there is a 92.3% chance that the enemy will conclude that this unit has ceased to have combat effectiveness."

Colonel Rheinhardt sat silently as he digested this information. He stretched as best he could in the combat restraints, collecting his thoughts and calming his nerves. "Those were our bombers in that last attack?"

"Yes. Approximately fifteen metric tonnes mix of high explosives, armor-piercing kinetic projectiles and some small number of armor ablatives," the Bolo said. "As calculated, your Bayerische command has concluded that this unit has gone rogue and must be destroyed."

Illumination dawned on the colonel. "We went out the wrong gate! You lied to me!"

"No," the Bolo replied.

"Speak up!" Rheinhardt shouted irritably.

"The gate was the correct gate to use for optimal destruction of the enemy," the Bolo said. Apologetically it added, "I regret that my smart armor was nonfunctional or I would have spared your ears the worst of the blasts."

"It was not the gate you were supposed to use," Rheinhardt said, ignoring the feeble apology.

"I am programmed to provide independent optimization of all military operations if given such lat.i.tude," the Bolo said.

"And my 'optimal' stipulation gave you all that lat.i.tude?" Colonel Rheinhardt surmised. "Then listen carefully, Bolo Das Afrika Korps, your Commander orders you to implement Operation Totalize."

"New orders understood and accepted," the Bolo responded. "Please provide details of Operation Totalize."

Colonel Rheinhardt's eyes grew wide. "You were issued the details of Operation Totalize via the Milnet data-link."

"A military data plan was received over the Milnet data-link," the Bolo agreed, "however it was stored in an area of memory that has become damaged in the past two bombings."

Rheinhardt absorbed that incredulously. "You put the d.a.m.ned data in unshielded memory!"

"That is quite possible," the Bolo agreed. "It would seem to be a logical outcome of your original orders that I ensure you would not be disposed towards countermanding them."

"Well I am-" Rheinhardt broke off, perplexed. "Why would you need my approval?"

"As predicted, one of my processors--Processor B--has failed," the Bolo replied. "You can now order this operation curtailed. I calculate that, unless this operation succeeds, there is a 98.9% chance that all human life on this planet will be terminated within eighteen months."

Rheinhardt frowned. "I need evidence of this claim."

"Center screen." the Bolo said. The center screen changed images, displaying a map of the local solar system. "The red blips are targets identified as moving under intelligent control. Preliminary data indicate that they do not conform to any known human s.p.a.ce vehicle."

"Your data is three centuries old," Rheinhardt pointed out.

"True, and incomplete owing to data loss," the Bolo admitted. "However, the vehicles do not conform to any extrapolation of previously known vehicles."

"Science moves in leaps, Bolo." Rheinhardt reminded it. "You were totally unaware of Quirthian logic."

"I have corrected that and am now employing a Quirthian a.n.a.logue circuit," the Bolo said. "Even with its abilities, I predict that these ships have less than a .03% chance of human origin."

Rheinhardt's brows rose respectfully. "No one has been able to manufacture a Quirthian strand utilizing Von Neumann architecture."

"It was not difficult," the Bolo replied. "If you look at the tracks of the vehicles, you will note that a logical projection of their current trajectories will put them into attack position over the planet in some eighteen point five-four hours."

"If you do not know their origin, how can you predict their intentions?"

"If you note the bright pink dot on your screen, near the larger moon, you will see that I have identified it as an intelligence gathering device," the Bolo answered. "Since I have penetrated the Noufrench satellite control, I have been monitoring several attempts by that device to cause malfunctions in the satellites, thus disabling our only deep s.p.a.ce surveillance systems."

"They could be trying to communicate," Rheinhardt objected.

"Negative. Communications require power levels orders of magnitude below those employed by that device. Its intent is clearly harmful.

"That information, in conjunction with my earlier observations about the a.s.sault on your planet's ecosystem three centuries ago lead me to a 98% certainty that we are facing a renewed attack by the same force which failed in its previous efforts to eradicate human life from this planet."

"Why don't they merely repeat the original a.s.sault?" Rheinhardt asked. "Goodness knows, it was successful enough."

"They will. However, the force a.s.sembled is too large for merely a xeno-forming infestation. They must realize that the terraforming microbes which survived the initial a.s.sault developed an increased immunity to similar a.s.saults," the Bolo said. "Besides, the enemy is being offered an unique opportunity to economize in its use of force."

"What?"

"This war," the Bolo replied. "Bomber a.s.sault wave converging as antic.i.p.ated. Next attack in ten . . . nine . . ."

"Amazing!" General Marcks exclaimed as he viewed the aerial videos of the third bombing run.

"It is still functional," he told General Cartier. "The Bolo has crawled out of the crater and is moving forward."

"It is heading for the sea, General," Major Kruger added, "it will enter near the Krazneutz ravine."

"Hmm, we shall make sure that it does not reach it."

"Ninety-eight percent of the bombs were direct hits!" General Sliecher said in a mixture of pride and amazement.

"General Marcks, perhaps I should have my force re-armed for another strike?" General Cartier suggested.

General Marcks cast a glance at Major Kruger who could only shrug in response.

"Yes, that might be wise," the commander of the Bayerische KriegsArmee replied.

Rheinhardt's good ear was numb from the repeated bombings. He fought back nausea as his inner ear attempted to recover from the repeated concussions. His breath came in gasps, with difficulty. The air was hot. With great effort he heard himself say reasonably, "Bolo, we have nothing to stop a bacteriological a.s.sault from aliens."

"That is not true," the Bolo replied. "It has been my main concern."

"You have a solution?"

"Yes," the Bolo replied. "A beam of coherent light set to a suitable wavelength could force the bacteriant to dissociate."

"Could you say that in plain German, please?"

"I shall fire my main gun along the flight path of their bacterial a.s.sault ship."

"And get the ship, too, or they'll just come around for another attack."

"That is my intention."

"What is to prevent them from destroying you beforehand?" Rheinhardt asked. "You are clearly the greatest threat."

"That is why I shall appear to have been destroyed before they make their a.s.sault," the Bolo answered. Rheinhardt's screens switched to an aerial map as the Bolo said, "The next Bayerische a.s.sault group approaches."

"Wait, Bolo! You're heading for the Krazneutz ravine! That's a drop of a thousand meters!"

"I know," the Bolo replied. "Please ensure that your combat restraints are securely fastened."

"They're tight!" Rheinhardt affirmed pulling on them earnestly. "Do you honestly expect us to survive that fall?"

"Yes," the Bolo replied simply. "However, there is a forty percent chance that I shall lose one or more of my voting processors."

"What can I do?"

"First, approve the current operation as detailed to you by me," the Bolo replied.

"Show me that star map again." The red dots of the enemy ships were closer, their orbits traced in fine fiery lines. Rheinhardt let out a long sigh. "Okay, your operation is approved."

"Second, agree to act as tie-breaker if required."

"Tie breaker?"

"I have five voting processors," the Bolo explained, "in the event that I lose one or three, I shall require your vote on certain operations."

"What if you lose four?"

"Then I shall initiate emergency shut down procedures," the Bolo replied. "However, the probability is very low."

"All right," Rheinhardt agreed. "Anything else?"

"Third, consider your actions once this unit has been destroyed."

"Destroyed? When-" Colonel Rheinhardt's words were drowned out by the sound of exploding bombs.

"A message from Intelligence, milord," Midshipman Jenkis Scratche said, handing over the message pouch.

Admiral Lord Baron Rastle Speare received the pouch, opened it and scanned its contents.

"A Bolo!" The words hissed from his muzzle in anger. "They attacked it! It has fallen into the sea. Our sensors can no longer detect it. The humans are convinced that it has been destroyed."

"A Bolo," Captain Pierce growled. "They destroyed a Bolo, milord. Our fleet would suffer grievously against such a force."

"Nonsense, Pierce!" the Admiral snarled in response. "Do you believe for an instant that they did not pay dearly for such a victory? Most of their equipment must be damaged, their forces demoralized. It must be a bitter victory." The Admiral bared his teeth in a savage smile. "Now is the time to strike! Send the order: jump in-system. Launch the a.s.sault!"