Battle Station

— 18

We hit the dome going too fast. It was an easy mistake to make, but Marvin almost killed us. I was gripping the wheel of the upper hatch with only one gauntlet at that moment, having let go with the other hand to tap Kwon’s shoulder. I shouldn’t have bothered, as he couldn’t feel me through the armor even if I slapped him hard.

In any case, when we hit the Macro dome, some law of physics was violated. We were moving too fast, and it was like hitting a concrete wall instead of a soap bubble. Everyone was thrown forward. For the four of us in the upper compartment, with no straps, nano-arms or other restraints, it was a worst case scenario. Marvin was at the bottom of the heap, crushed down on the control bars. I was second, entangled with Sloan who ended up with his helmet shoved under my armpit. Last came Kwon, crashing into the stack like a sledgehammer. He had held on a fraction of a second longer than the rest of us, which only served to put him on top of the sandwich.

My neck and right arm were twisted and my visor was starred again. My suit nanites had barely affected repairs since the lashing of the Blue’s dust storm, and now they had new hairline cracks to deal with. Fortunately, I’d designed the suits for absorbing impact. As bad as this pile-up was, it was nothing compared to a collision in space. We simply weren’t moving fast enough to cause serious damage.

I heard a whuffing sound. Kwon was laughing his ass off. “This is pretty comfy,” he said. “You guys are like a pile of cushions.”

“Get your fat butt off my neck,” Sloan complained.

“We are proceeding into the Macro dome,” Marvin said. “It would be advisable to return to your stations, sirs.”

Grunting and straining, we untangled ourselves. Soon afterward, the exterior sounds of thrashing Macros vanished entirely. Judging by the instant silence that fell over the tank, I knew we had made it back under the protection of the dome.

“We’re inside, Colonel Riggs,” Marvin said.

“Kwon? How many of the enemy do we have on the hull?”

“I’m not sure,” Kwon said, swiveling his turret.

“They might be too close to see, but I’m not-wait a minute,” Sloan said.

He fired, but something went wrong. Instead of an intense light, a gush of heat and fumes from the chemical laser backwashed into the tank. Fortunately, we were in our suits or we would have been in trouble.

“Looks like my vents are clogged,” he said.

“Cease firing. We have to flush out the blockage. Everyone, keep your suits on.” I didn’t think any of them were dumb enough to open their helmets, but I gave the order as a precaution.

“I see one now,” Kwon said. “They are coming through dome, sir.”

I opened a channel to the marines in the troop pod. “Marines, I want you to get out there and clear the hull of this tank. Engage anything coming through the dome. We’ll provided supporting fire from here when you clear our vents.”

Kwon slid away from his turret and cranked open the top hatch.

“Where do you think you’re going, First Sergeant?” I demanded.

“With the men, sir. Could you man my turret?”

I heard the marines moving out below. The back ramp dropped with a crash and heavy boots pounded. There were flashes and snapping sounds almost immediately, as the marines engaged the enemy.

“Hold on a second,” I told Kwon. The tank was nearly finished as a mobile platform, but I wanted it farther from the edge of the dome. “Marvin, take us closer to the factory. Move slowly.”

The big gears ground and clattered. The tank was moving again, but I could tell the treads on the right side were failing. Marvin fought the controls, as the levers were only power-assisted. They gave a lot of feedback, I hadn’t had time to design anything more sophisticated. Macro design was basic and over-built. It reminded me of old-fashion Soviet designs. When in doubt about stresses and tolerances, Macros just carpeted an extra layer of steel over everything.

The big machine made it almost to the factory when I called for it to halt. All this time, Kwon had been manning his turret, but when we finally halted he scrambled for the hatch again. I knew he couldn’t wait to get outside and smoke a few of those machines personally.

“All right,” I said. “Sloan, you man your turret. Marvin, you man Kwon’s. Kwon and I are going outside.”

Everyone looked happy with these assignments, especially Sloan. I could tell by his wide-open eyes he’d been worried I would take him outside with the machines. I almost chuckled-maybe he was the smartest one of the bunch.

We didn’t get far before we were caught up in the firefight outside. Kwon threw open the top hatch, and used his repellers to fly straight upward. He was firing at something on the ground, I could tell that. I climbed out after him and took a leap to the ground. My rifle was in my hand and I had the trigger depressed before Kwon came down again.

“Take cover, First Sergeant!” I ordered. “Stop showboating up there.”

“Sorry sir,” Kwon said, letting himself drift down beside the tipping tank.

After a flashing firefight, my marines managed to drive back the ten or so Macro workers with lasers who’d followed us under the dome. The rest really didn’t have a chance. Without ranged weapons, they snipped at the air a few times with what looked like hedge-trimmers then went down in a storm of heavy laser fire. These new projectors were very effective. A one-second burst focused carefully on the thorax was enough to disable a worker.

There was a lull in the fighting after we’d killed all those we could see. My men stayed in whatever cover they could find, which consisted mostly of our tank’s battered hull and the indentation made by the treads. I threw myself down on my belly in a dished out section of earth and checked my weapon for damage. I had still had a ninety-percent charge and there was no sign the unit was going to overheat soon.

Kwon fell into the pit beside me, his heavy body tossing up a shower of dust. “The tank has taken quite a beating,” he said.

I followed his gaze. In spots, the tank’s two-foot thick armor was down to less than a foot of crispy, pitted metal. Much of the melting effect appeared to have come from directly above-which I assumed had been done by my own ships. They’d fried the Macros on our hull as I’d asked, but had almost overdone it and fried us as well. I had no doubt this was why the tank’s vents were clogged. They’d probably melted and fused together. I was surprised the two cannons operated at all.

Looking around the scene, I saw a trail of twisted metal wreckage that led from the tank to the edge of the dome. We’d been dragging them and crushing them down into the earth with every foot of progress.

“Why have they stopped coming, Colonel?” Kwon asked me.

“They haven’t,” I said. “Macros don’t just quit, not unless they are calling off the attack completely. I don’t buy that. Not yet.”

“Maybe our troops have come down outside, and are engaging them.”

I would have liked to talk to Miklos and find out just how close that was to happening, but I didn’t buy that argument either. I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s too soon for that. It will take a few hours for Miklos to get ground support down here.”

Kwon looked at me. “I see,” he said. “So we are on our own?”

“For now.”

Kwon looked back toward the perimeter. “Where are they? What the hell are they doing out there?”

“They are probably massing up just outside the dome. They’ll come inside all at once and try to overrun us.”

“Ah,” Kwon said. He grunted as he climbed to his feet. “In that case, we have a few minutes. What are your orders?”

I looked up at him, and stood up beside him. Kwon was so quick to accept my theories as facts. I wished I had a thousand more like him-but then, that might not have been healthy when I turned out to be wrong.

“Let’s dig in,” I said. “Set up trenches around the tank.”

Kwon brought a gauntlet to his helmet. “What if they come in under us, sir? Remember South America?”

“But they can’t…” I began, but then I trailed off. I nodded. “Right. They could be digging outside, coming in through the dome underground, then pressing ahead into the middle of this region. In fact, for all we know, there are tunnels under us right now.”

We didn’t have a surviving sensor box that could measure activity under our feet. I felt trapped. If we dug in, they might get in close and tear into our lines. If we stood on top of our single tank, we would be easy targets if they simply walked through the dome.

Finally, I turned and looked toward the idle factory itself. “We’ve got plenty of steel, at least. Let’s build something.”

This time, with Marvin’s help translating my instructions, I designed something more useful than a massive block of steel. I didn’t have time to make a new tank, of course. But I figured we could use a structure, a battlement of some kind that could not be dug under and yet would provide cover from incoming fire. Simple geometric blocks and flat planes of metal. Something that would come in sectional pieces we could fit together. This machine should be able to generate structures like that very quickly. The factory was the only asset I had, so I was determined to do the best I could with it.

Within a few minutes I came up with a series of metal planks, about thirty feet long each. These would fit easily in the output tray, and two of my men in their exoskeletal suits could lift and place them. Each plank of steel was four inches thick-enough to stop a laser bolt. I would have loved to have a barrel of constructive nanites to weld them together, but wishing didn’t make it happen. Instead, I ordered the steel planks to be made with holes drilled through at regular intervals. Then I ordered a large number of steel rods to be built at the same time.

In the end, the Macros almost gave me enough time to build my steel bunker. The men had the floor and the walls built, but not the roof or the second floor. I’d kept them busy, having them carry, place and connect the planks as the great machine rolled out every few seconds. It was like trying to keep up with a fast laser-printer. We almost couldn’t clear the output tray before the next sheet fell out of it. Along with each section of steel, a pile of clanking, rolling rods was produced. These would serve as pins to hold the steel planks together.

Another team was focused on assembly. They used their laser projectors like welders to melt the rods into place, and to cut vertical slits for firing through the walls. These slits would serve as loopholes for gunners to hide behind. Every few feet, a slit had been burned through. The cuts were ragged and black with charred metal. They were just wide enough to allow my men to poke their rifles through. I tried it, and was impressed by the reasonably broad field of fire.

“One thing sir,” Kwon asked as I set up a second floor. “How do we get inside?”

“Burn a hole in the roof,” I said.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he flew up there and began cutting a circular opening in the roof of the structure.

We didn’t finish the second floor, however, before the enemy interrupted our efforts. A shout went up from one of my marines who was on sentry duty on the far side of the factory. Almost immediately, my visor dimmed: someone was firing. I couldn’t tell which side had opened up first, and I didn’t much care.

“Everyone into the bunker! Sloan and Marvin, seal the hatches on the tank and man your cannons!”

I flew up with a swarm of my fellow marines and we landed on the roof of the bunker. The bunker looked like a three-quarters finished cube at this point. The top floor had a three-foot high wall around it, one plank high. The interior was sealed except for the loopholes.

“Is that entrance done yet?” I asked Kwon, shouting to be heard over the growing din of battle.

“Yes sir, I’m working on a second one now.”

“Well, jump down inside and burn your way out from down there.”

Kwon looked at me for a second. Then a laser bolt struck him in the back. An inch-deep, black hole had appeared and wisped with gray vapor, but I could tell it hadn’t made it all the way through.

“Ah, right!” he said, jumping down into the bunker.

“I want three men to stay up top here with me. Crouch and fire. Everyone else inside the cube. Take up a firing position and make your stand.”

Only one marine didn’t make it into the bunker. He caught a bolt in the back, but this one burned through the armor. He was just making the flying leap up on top of the bunker. The bolt caused him to tumble in midair. His repellers were still pushing him, and unfortunately, he was driven down into the dirt. Instead of making a graceful, powered leap up on top of our steel cube he shot down into the ground. He struggled to rise and storm of bolts caught him from every direction.

My immediate instinct was to leap out there and help him. But I knew that would make two casualties out of one. “Supporting fire, left flank!” I shouted. “We have a marine down, keep those Macros honest!”

The marine forced himself to all fours. Two more bolts struck his armor, and he sagged down again. I couldn’t take it anymore, and ran to the wall. He was down there, lying in the dirt.

“Fly up here, Marine!” I ordered. “Get one hand on this rail and I’ll pull you over the top.”

“My repellers aren’t operable, sir,” he said, his voice faint on my proximity radio channel.

“Okay, then stay flat on your face. We’ll keep them off you and get you inside when we can.”

Over the marine’s head, several of my men were firing steadily now, keeping the Macros ducking. The enemy was digging out there, working on some agenda of their own. Maybe they didn’t know my bunker had a solid steel floor. Others were poking their head-sections around the corner of the big factory. We fired at every machine the moment it showed itself. Macro workers were coming inside the dome in droves now. Most of these had laser mounts on them. I wasn’t sure where these reinforcements had come from, but it didn’t really matter.

Marvin and Sloan in the tank kept the enemy at bay on their side of the factory, and we did the same from our bunker. I realized now, however, they were pouring in on the far side of the factory, a blind spot for all our shooters. They were massing up behind the factory and trying to work around us.

I grimaced as the marine below me took another hit. He wasn’t going to last long down there. It was odd, seeing a man helpless and dying so close to me. He was only ten feet away, but he was hurt and on the wrong side of my new wall. It might as well have been a million miles.

Then I noticed a glowing region of heat near the marine. “What the hell is that?” I asked over the command channel. “Someone with a better angle give me a report. Are the Macros burning a hole in our bunker?”

“No, sir,” Kwon said. “It’s me.”

I gritted my teeth. In between words, I fired out through my loophole. The Macros fired back, but they were exposed while I was a hard target behind my steel planks. They were forced to retreat. “What the hell are you doing, Kwon?”

“There we go, got him,” Kwon said.

I took a second to look down. A huge arm lashed out, grabbed the marine by the projector cable and dragged him up against the bunker. The man appeared to have lost consciousness. He banged limply against the bottom of the cube.

“Hole is a bit small,” Kwon said.

I shook my head. “I hope we don’t get more unwanted guests coming through that way.”

“Macros are too big to fit, sir. In fact, Carlson is almost too big. No, I have him now.”

I paused in my measured firing to watch Carlson’s legs slide away out of sight and into the bunker. “If we all die due to your little stunt, I’m busting you to Corporal, Kwon.”

“That’s okay, sir,” he said, “as long as I still get to kill machines.”

I laughed, because I knew he was serious.