Battle Station

— 17

In the end, I managed to build something big and ugly. It did look vaguely like a tank-or maybe a horned Viking helmet. The tank had two separate turrets that rotated independently of one another. Sitting side by side in the midsection of the tank, the cannons swiveled independently and required a human gunner to man each of them. Both guns covered a wide arc of fire, but if the tank was attacked from either flank, we would only be able to get one weapon into play. Still, it was pretty impressive-looking.

Kwon walked around the big machine, slapping its steel flanks and rattling the heavy treads. “You really like making up this kind of stuff, huh?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, standing on the slanting hull.

The tank was far from perfect. I was sure any tank designer back on earth would roll his eyes at my work. But I had been working from memory. This machine looked like a world war one monster, with the two bulbous turrets and the high-riding treads.

“Not bad for a first run prototype, Colonel,” Captain Sloan said, from the hatch on the top turret. “But I feel like I’m about a century back in time.”

“I’ve thought of a dozen improvements already,” I admitted. “Like these treads-there could be an armored skirt hanging over them to shield them. And the heat exhaust flows out of the bottom only. What if we hit a patch of deep mud? The machine might stall or at least be unable to cool down the guns.”

“So, that’s it then?” Kwon said. “We all climb in this thing and drive out of here? Is that why we made the trip down, to build one tank?”

“You are sounding more like one of my officers every day, Kwon,” I said.

“Sorry sir. I just don’t understand your plan.”

“Well, we’re not driving all the way out of here.”

It was Sloan’s turn to be doubtful. He popped his head up out of the hatch and appeared alarmed. “What? We’re not getting out of here?”

“No, not yet. We’re going just outside of this dome, where we’ll meet up with the enemy and we should be able to transmit up to Fleet. In order to take full possession of this factory, we’ll have to bring down many more troops. To do that, we’ll have to get permission from the Blue that is squatting on top of this facility.”

“What I want to know is why the Macros have not hit us hard by now,” Kwon said. “It’s not like them to let us grab something without a fight. They didn’t even have any technicians down here to try to blow it up or something.”

“I’ve been wondering about that too. But don’t worry, I have great faith in the Macros. Before this is over, I’ll bet they’ll give us a very hard time.”

“I hope so, sir,” Kwon said, frowning. “I don’t like all this pussy-footing around.”

I raised my eyebrows at him and gave a small shake of the head. Sometimes, Kwon had unique ideas about how a campaign should go. I turned to my troops and clapped my armored hands together.

“All right!” I said. “Mount up! Everyone inside. I’ve only got two guns and one pilot’s station. I’ll drive, Kwon and Sloan will man the cannons. The rest of you squeeze onto the benches I’ve set up in the belly. Watch your heads, that big thing that takes up half the troop compartment is a fusion generator. It might get hot, and it’s sure to release a lot of rads if we have to crank it up-so adjust your suits to endure a hostile environment.”

My men moved quickly to obey. There were muttered complaints, as there always were. I heard the words “crazy” and “pigs” several times. It was nothing I wasn’t accustomed to. Men like this were veterans. Competent and experienced, but surly.

Marvin was the last to force his lumpy form down through the top hatch. He squatted between Kwon and Sloan, who were on either side, manning a turret. As the pilot, I was up forward and lower than the rest of them. I looked over my shoulder at Marvin in surprise. He hadn’t asked where I wanted him, he’d just slid inside the top compartment.

“I feel oddly out of place perching here, Colonel Riggs,” Marvin complained.

“You look oddly out of place everywhere you go,” Kwon said, and gave a huffing laugh.

“Perhaps you would like to take this spot,” Marvin suggested, directing most of his cameras at me. “This is the command seat.”

I smiled. “Who would pilot the machine then?”

“I would be glad to volunteer my services in that regard.”

I snorted and thought about it. I knew from experience I would have an easier time thinking about what I was saying to an alien life form if I didn’t have to pilot an unfamiliar machine at the same time. Also, I knew Marvin really wanted to drive this monster. He was like a kid when a new experience was attainable. His curiosity was insatiable.

“All right, Marvin,” I said. “Let’s trade places.”

There was quite a bit of grunting, and some new gouges on my armor before we’d managed the switch. Once sitting in the center, I had to admit, it did feel right. I felt like a starship captain-even if my starship was cramped, squatty and built with two-foot thick steel.

“Have you engaged all the defensive software we talked about?” I asked. “I don’t want the Macros taking control of this factory again the minute we leave.”

“I have installed the patches. I must warn you, however-”

“I know, no guarantees. Take us out, Marvin.”

The tank didn’t have an idling engine. Being powered by fusion which converted its output to electricity, it was hard to tell when it was running and when it wasn’t. Marvin simply applied the throttle and the machine whirled around, spinning the tank’s treads in opposite directions. The treads clanked and spit dusty soil everywhere. The machine turned around faster than I’d thought possible. It gave me a sickening feeling.

“Whoa, robot!” Sloan said, grabbing the cannon controls for support.

We hadn’t bothered to put in handholds and the like. This tank was bare-bones.

“Yes, take turns a little slower if we aren’t in a combat situation, Marvin,” I urged him.

Marvin made no apologies. Possibly, he hadn’t even heard us. Every one of his cameras was focused on a screen or a scope. We clanked forward with gripping acceleration. I was thrown back against the generator compartment, and was glad for my thick armor. Being in the improvised commander’s perch, I had nothing to hold onto. I looked around and finally reached up my hands to grip the wheel that opened the top hatch. By positioning my hands on either side of the wheel and lacing my fingers around it, I was able to get a good hold that wouldn’t make it spin open. I was already making design changes in my mind. I kept telling myself I should be happy the thing ran at all.

We were slowed by the soap-bubble effect of the force-dome when we made contact with it. Passing through to the far side was a disturbing experience, as always. The tickling inside my guts was even more bizarre than what I felt when going through a ring. Somehow, you could feel that tickling energy crawl over your body. After a moment, the sensation of resistance faded and we were through.

Outside in the open, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was surprised anyway. The Blue was gone. There was no dark, smoky form hovering over us. There was no gloom and swirling dust. Instead, we sat in blazing daylight under a blue sky. The pit we sat in was still cast in deep shadow by the surrounding cliffs of slag. The spiraling roadway cut into the walls of the pit made me think of a giant stairway up to the heavens.

“Where did that smoke-thing go?” Kwon asked.

“I’ve got no clue,” I said.

Marvin rolled the tank around the floor of the pit. We clanked and clattered as we circled the dome, eyeing our surroundings. Kwon and Sloan swiveled their turrets suspiciously, targeting every fluttering bit of debris.

“Take us up that ramp a ways, Marvin. But keep the speed under control, please.”

We lurched toward the ramp and I was thrown back at an angle when the tank began to climb. Gravel crunched and ground into the treads, sticking in the gaps. Rocks were crushed to dust by our weight.

“Let’s call home,” I said. “We need back up. This seems too easy, but if the enemy is going to give us this base, we’re going to take it.”

That was as far as I got with my boastful statements. We were about half-way up the ramp to the first stair when the Macro machines finally appeared. They scuttled forward and gazed down at us from every stair, all the way up to the top. There were thousands of them. Like players at a sporting match in a grand arena, we were surrounded by uncounted masses.

Like so many times in the past, the Macros dashed my dreams with their true plans. I had to give it to them. This time, they’d really let me get my hopes up.

“Open fire!” I shouted, but I needn’t have bothered. Kwon and Sloan were targeting nearby machines and melting them. The power of the beams was impressive. Even when the flashing beams reached me indirectly through tiny slits, they made my visor flash and darken.

“Turn around, Marvin!” I ordered. “Head back for the dome.”

Marvin slewed us around in a wild one-eighty that left me with my right leg hanging over Kwon’s shoulder. I could only imagine how my marines were doing down below us in the belly of the tank. Probably, they were cursing my name and the day they’d broken their mammas’ hearts and signed with Star Force.

Kwon brushed my foot off his shoulder and kept firing. Most of the machines were armed with long pinchers, saw-blades or scoops. These were the Macro equivalent of farm implements in the hands of angry peasants. Some had lasers, however. They fired storms of bolts down on my tank and the sound inside the vehicle was like that of a hard rain mixed with that of sizzling bacon. I knew the sizzling sound was formed by melted steel, which no doubt had formed hot runnels on the outer hull.

The front of the vehicle had the thickest armor, like any tank. Unfortunately, now that we were running, they were hitting my tank in the butt. Still, I’d made sure to put plenty of steel in every direction. Even the flank armor was thick and solid, but it would only take so much. Eventually, they would burn through if they kept pounding us-and Macros were never likely to vary a tactic that had even the slightest hope of success.

I gauged our chances when we hit the open floor of the pit with a bucking heave. Already, Marvin was struggling with the controls. I wished fervently that I’d put that armor skirt over the treads. The treads had taken hits along the way, and the right side seemed to be dragging. Soon, we might be immobilized. At that point, we’d be toast.

Outside, thousands of machines rushed us eagerly. They made a rustling sound I could hear through the walls of the tank. Like scuttling insects, they charged forward, anxious to stop us or die.

“Keep firing on the ones that are burning us. I think this tank can handle the pinchers and the like.”

“The ones with the guns are hard to see, sir,” Kwon said.

“What? Why?”

“The worker Macros are all over the barrel of my cannon.”

I took a look outside, and saw he was right. They had mounded over us now. It was like a swarm of ants on top of a big beetle. They were riding the tank in a mass. We were still crawling forward, but slowing down.

The road became bumpier, and I quickly realized why. We were overrunning the smaller machines. I wondered how long my tank could keep plowing them over, crushing down their thrashing metal bodies before it ground to a halt. At that point, I knew we were dead men.

“Marvin, get us back under that dome! And connect me with Miklos!”

“Miklos here, sir,” came the Captain’s calm, familiar voice.

I had a hard time hearing him over the din of the scrabbling, clacking Macro workers that now blotted out our view of the sky with their bodies.

“Miklos, listen to me. I need a low-powered laser burn from a single destroyer.”

“Where sir?”

“Right here. Follow my signal down, and burn me at this location.”

“I don’t-I don’t understand, sir.”

“Just do it man, or we’re dead! Keep the power low, and unfocus the guns, I want an area about fifty feet in diameter to be hit. Give it a five second burn, immediately!”

“Yes sir,” Miklos said after another brief pause.

I could hear a familiar tone in his voice. He thought I was crazy. But I also heard something else: resignation. All my officers had learned to do crazy things after spending enough time under my command. If you lived long enough on my team, you were sure to be given insane orders at some point.

The first sign I had that the beams were hitting us was the dimming of my visor. I didn’t detect the laser itself, as most of the power was not in the visible spectrum. But it did come down unerringly to burn my tank. It was almost impossible for them to miss as I was providing them with a radio signal to sight on.

The scrabbling noises on the hull intensified.

“Increase power!” I shouted. “Miklos, double down on that burn, same duration and area, but more power.”

My visor blackened out entirely. I wasn’t sure for a moment if the Macros had covered us entirely, blotting out the light, or if the lasers from the destroyer had done it. I reasoned it had to be the destroyer, as I would have been able to see the suit lights of my fellow marines otherwise.

“Colonel Riggs, we are close to the edge of the dome,” Marvin said.

This entire time, he’d been piloting the tank without wavering from his post. That was one good thing about having a robot for a pilot: they didn’t panic on you.

The scrabbling on the roof of the tank subsided. I figured the Macros were melting to slag out there. We were still bumping and heaving as we slowly traveled over their countless bodies, however.

“Miklos!” I shouted. “Can you still hear me?”

There was a quiet second or two. I was worried, as I knew once we entered the dome all communications would be cut out. Another possible disaster included the high probability that our com system had been damaged by the bombardment.

“…Riggs…contact…”

“Miklos, listen to me: I want you to send down everything we have. I need ground, air and space support. Kill these machines and meet me inside the dome. This is our new base. Bring the Centaurs. Bring everyone.”

There was only some buzzing in response. “Marvin, send my last message again and again. Keep sending it until we are inside the dome.”

“Transmission sent.”

“Good. Now send it again.”

I was rewarded with a single, curious camera eye. “Transmission sent,” he said.

I snorted. Even the robot thought I was crazy. But didn’t care. It was beginning to look like we were going to live to a see another day.