Bolo_The Annals of the Dinochrome Brigade

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Bolo_The Annals of the Dinochrome Brigade Page 11

by Keith Laumer


  Sincerely yours,

  s/ Hamilton Grace, G.C.M., B.C., etc.

  8

  It is my unhappy duty to inform you that since the dastardly unprovoked attack on our nation by Eastern forces crossing the international truce-line at 0200 hours today, a state of war has existed between the People’s Republic and the Concordiat. Our first casualties, the senseless massacre of fifty-five inoffensive civilian meteorologists and technicians at Pole Base, occurred within minutes of the enemy attack.

  9

  “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean about ‘irresponsible statements to the press,’ General. After all …”

  “Yes, George, I’m prepared to let that aspect of the matter drop. The PR attack has saved that much of your neck. However, I’m warning you that I shall tolerate no attempt on your part to make capital of your dramatic public statement of what was, as you concede, tactically obvious to us all. Now, indeed, PR forces have taken the expected step, as all the world is aware—so the rather excessively punctilious demands by CDT officials that the Council issue an immediate apology to Chairman Smith for your remarks will doubtless be dropped. But there will be no crowing, no basking in the limelight: ‘Chief of Ground Forces Predicted Enemy Attack.’ No nonsense of that sort. Instead, you will deploy your conventional forces to meet and destroy these would-be invaders.”

  “Certainly, General. But in that connection—well, as to your earlier position regarding the new Model B Bolo, I assume …”

  “My ‘position,’ General? ‘Decision’ is the more appropriate word. Just step around the desk, George. Bend over slightly and look carefully at my shoulder tab. Count ’em, George. Six. An even hall dozen. And unless I’m in serious trouble, you’re wearing four. You have your orders, George. See to your defenses.”

  10

  Can’t figure it out. Batesey-boy was down here again, gave me direct orders to give her full depot maintenance, just as if she hadn’t been sitting right here in her garage ever since I topped her off a week ago. Wonder what’s up. If I didn’t know the Council outlawed the test run Doc Chin wanted so bad, I’d almost think … But like Bates told me: I ain’t paid to think. Anyways she’s in full action condition, ’cept for switching over to full self-direction. Hope he don’t order me to do it; I’m still kind of leery. Like old Margrave said, what if I just got a couple wires crossed and she taken a notion to wreck the joint?

  11

  I am more uneasy than ever. In the past 4000.007 seconds I have received external inspection and depot maintenance far in advance of the programmed schedule. The thought occurs to me: am I under some subtle form of attack? In order to correctly compute the possibilities, I initiate a test sequence of 50,0000 random data-retrieval-and-correlation pulses and evaluate the results. This requires .9 seconds, but such sluggishness is to be expected in my untried condition. I detect no unmistakable indications of enemy trickery, but I am still uneasy. Impatiently I await the orders of my commander.

  12

  “I don’t care what you do, Jimmy—just do something! Ah, of course I don’t mean that literally. Of course I care. The well-being of the citizens of Cold City is, after all, my chief concern. What I mean is, I’m giving you carte blanche—full powers. You must act at once, Jimmy. Before the sun sets I want to see your evacuation plan on my desk for signature.”

  “Surely, Mr. Mayor, I understand. But what am I supposed to work with? I have no transport yet. The Army has promised a fleet of D-100 tractors pulling 100x cargo flats, but none have materialized. They were caught just as short as we were, Your Honor, even though that General Bates knew all about it. We all knew the day would come, but I guess we kept hoping ‘maybe.’ Our negotiations with them seemed to be bearing fruit, and the idea of exposing over a million and a half city-bred individuals to a twelve-hundred-mile trek in thirty-below temperatures was just too awful to really face. Even now—”

  “I know. The army is doing all it can. The main body of PR troops hasn’t actually crossed the dateline yet—so perhaps our forces can get in position. Who knows? Miracles have happened before. But we can’t base our thinking on miracles, Jimmy. Flats or no flats, we have to have the people out of the dome before enemy forces cut us off.”

  “Mr. Mayor, our people can’t take this. Aside from leaving their homes and possessions—I’ve already started them packing, and I’ve given them a ten-pounds-per-person limit—they aren’t used to exercise, to say nothing of walking twelve hundred miles over frozen tundra. And most of them have no clothing heavier than a business suit. And—”

  “Enough, Jimmy. I was ambushed in my office earlier today by an entire family: the old grandmother who was born under the dome and refused to consider going outside; the father all full of his product-promotion plans and the new garden he’d just laid out; mother, complaining about junior having a cold and no warm clothes; and the kids, just waiting trustfully until the excitement was over and they could go home and be tucked into their warm beds with a tummyful of dinner. Ye gods, Jimmy! Can you imagine them after three weeks on the trail?”

  13

  “Just lean across the desk, fellows. Come on, gather round. Take a close look at the shoulder tab. Four stars—see ’em? Then go over to the Slab and do the same with General Margrave. You’ll count six. It’s as easy as that, boys. The General says no test. Sure, I told him the whole plan. His eyes just kept boring in. Even making contingency plans for deploying an untested and non-High-Command-approved weapon system is grounds for court-martial. He didn’t say that; maybe I’m telepathic. In summary, the General says no.”

  14

  I don’t know, now. What I heard, even with everything we got on the line, dug in and ready for anything, they’s still a ten-mile-wide gap the Peepreps can waltz through without getting even a dirty look. So if General Bates—oh, he’s a nice enough young fellow, after you get used to him—if he wants to plug the hole with old unit DNE here, why, I say go to it, only the Council says nix. I can say this much: she’s put together so she’ll stay together. I must of wired in a thousand of them damage-sensors myself, and that ain’t a spot on what’s on the diagram. “Pain circuits,” old Doc Chin calls ’em. Says it’s just like a instinct for self-preservation or something, like people. Old Denny can hurt, he says, so he’ll be all the better at dodging enemy fire. He can enjoy, too, Doc says. He gets a kick out of doing his job right, and out of learning stuff. And he learns fast. He’ll do okay against them: durn Peepreps. They got him programmed right to the brim with everything from them Greeks used to fight with no pants down to Avery’s Last Stand at Leadpipe. He ain’t no dumb private; he’s got more dope to work on than any general ever graduated from the Point. And he’s got more firepower than an old-time army corps. So I think maybe General Bates got aholt of a good idear there, myself. Says he can put her in the gap in his line and field-test her for fair, with the whole durn Peeprep army and air force for a test problem. Save the gubment some money, too. I heard Doc Chin say the full-scale field test mock-up would run GM a hundred million and another five times that in army R-and-D funds. He had a map showed where he could use Denny here to block off the south end of Grand Crevasse where the Peeprep armor will have to travel ’count of the rugged terrain north of Cold City, and bottle ’em up slick as a owl’s peter. I’m for it, durn it. Let Denny have his chance. Can’t be no worse’n having them Comrades down here running things even worse’n the gubment.

  15

  “You don’t understand, young man. My goodness, I’m not the least bit interested in bucking the line, as you put it. Heavens, I’m going back to my apartment—”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I got my orders. This here ain’t no drill; you got to keep it closed up. They’re loading as fast as they can. It’s my job to keep these lines moving right out the lock, so they get that flat loaded and get the next one up. We got over a million people to load by six AM deadline. So you just be nice, ma’am, and think about all the trouble it’d make if everyb
ody decided to start back upstream and jam the elevators and all.”

  16

  Beats me. ’Course, the good part about being just a hired man is I got no big decisions to make, so I don’t hafta know what’s going on. Seems like they’d let me know something, though. Batesey was down again, spent a hour with old Denny—like I say, beats me—but he give me a new data-can to program into her, right in her Action/Command section. Something’s up. I just fired a N-class pulse at old Denny (them’s the closest to the real thing) and she snapped her aft-quarter battery around so fast I couldn’t see it move. Old Denny’s keyed up, I know that much.

  17

  This has been a memorable time for me. I have my assignment at last, and I have conferred at length—for 2.037 seconds—with my Commander. I am now a fighting unit of the 20th Virginia, a regiment ancient and honorable, with a history dating back to Terra Insula. I look forward to my opportunity to demonstrate my worthiness.

  18

  “I assure you, gentlemen, the rumor in unfounded. I have by no means authorized the deployment of ‘an untested and potentially highly dangerous machine,’ as your memo termed it. Candidly, I was not at first entirely unsympathetic to the proposal of the Chief of Ground Forces, in view of the circumstances—I presume you’re aware that the PR committed its forces to invasion over an hour ago, and that they are advancing in overwhelming strength. I have issued the order to commence the evacuation, and I believe that the initial phases are even now in progress. I have the fullest confidence in General Bates and can assure you that our forces will do all in their power in the face of this dastardly sneak attack. As for the unfortunate publicity given to the earlier suggestion re the use of the Mark XX, I can tell you that I at once subjected the data to computer analysis here at Head-quarters to determine whether any potentially useful purpose could be served by risking the use of the new machine without prior test certification. The results were negative. I’m sorry, gentlemen, but that’s it. The enemy has the advantage both strategically and tactically. We are outgunned, outmanned, and in effect outflanked. There is nothing we can do save attempt to hold them long enough to permit the evacuation to get underway, then retreat in good order. The use of our orbiting nuclear capability is out of the question. It is, after all, our own territory we’d be devastating. No more questions for the present, please, gentlemen. I have my duties to see to.”

  19

  My own situation continues to deteriorate. The Current Status program has been updated to within 21 seconds of the present. The reasons both for what is normally a pre-engagement updating and for the hiatus of 21 seconds remain obscure. However, I shall of course hold myself in readiness for whatever comes.

  20

  “It’s all nonsense: to call me here at this hour merely to stand by and watch the destruction of our gallant men who are giving their lives in a totally hopeless fight against overwhelming odds. We know what the outcome must be. You yourself, General, informed us this afternoon that the big tactical computer has analyzed the situation and reported no possibility of stopping them with what we’ve got. By the way, did you include the alternative of use of the big, er, Bolo, I believe they’re called—frightening things—they’re so damned big! But if, in desperation, you should be forced to employ the thing—have you that result as well? I see. No hope at all. So there’s nothing we can do. This is a sad day, General. But I fail to see what object is served by getting me out of bed to come down here. Not that I’m not willing to do anything I can, of course. With our people—innocent civilians—out on that blizzard-swept tundra tonight, and our boys dying to gain them a little time, the loss of a night’s sleep is relatively unimportant, of course. But it’s my duty to be at my best, rested and ready to face the decisions that we of the Council will be called on to make.

  “Now, General, kindly excuse my ignorance if I don’t understand all this … but I understood that the large screen there was placed so as to monitor the action at the southern debouchment of Grand Crevasse where we expect the enemy armor to emerge to make its dash for Cold City and the Complex. Yes, indeed, so I was saying, but in that case I’m afraid I don’t understand. I’m quite sure you stated that the untried Mark XX would not be used. Yet on the screen I see what appears to be in fact that very machine moving up. Please, calmly, General! I quite understand your position. Defiance of a direct order? That’s rather serious, I’m sure, but no occasion for such language, General. There must be some explanation.”

  21

  This is a most satisfying development. Quite abruptly my Introspection Complex was brought up to full operating level, extra power resources were made available to my Current-Action memory stage, and most satisfying of all, my Battle Reflex circuit has been activated at Active Service level. Action is impending, I am sure of it. It is a curious anomaly: I dread the prospect of damage and even possible destruction, but even more strongly I anticipate the pleasure of performing my design function.

  22

  “Yes, sir, I agree. It’s mutiny. But I will not recall the Bolo and I will not report myself under arrest. Not until this battle’s over, General. So the hell with my career. I’ve got a war to win.”

  23

  “Now just let me get this quite straight, General. Having been denied authority to field-test this new device, you—or a subordinate, which amounts to the same thing—have placed the machine in the line of battle, in open defiance of the Council. This is a serious matter, General. Yes, of course it’s war, but to attempt to defend your actions now will merely exacerbate the matter. In any event—to return to your curious decision to defy Council authority and to reverse your own earlier position—it was yourself who assured me that no useful purpose could be served by fielding this experimental equipment; that the battle, and perhaps the war, and the very self-determination of West Continent are irretrievably lost. There is nothing we can do save accept the situation gracefully while decrying Chairman Smith’s decision to resort to force. Yes indeed, General, I should like to observe on the Main Tactical Display screen. Shall we go along?”

  24

  “Now, there at center screen, Mr. Counselor, you see that big blue rectangular formation. Actually that’s the opening of Grand Crevasse, emerges through an ice tunnel, you know. Understand the Crevasse is a crustal fault, a part of the same formation that created the thermal sink from which the Complex draws its energy. Splendid spot for an ambush, of course, if we had the capability. Enemy has little option; like a highway in there—armor can move up at flank speed. Above, the badlands, where we must operate. Now, over to the left, you see that smoke, or dust or whatever. That represents the western limit of the unavoidable gap in General Bates’s line. Dust raised by maneuvering Mark XV’s, you understand. Obsolete equipment, but we’ll do what we can with them. Over to the right, in the distance there, we can make out our forward artillery emplacement of the Threshold Line. Pitiful, really. Yes, Mr. Counselor, there is indeed a gap precisely opposite the point where the lead units of the enemy are expected to appear. Clearly anything in their direct line of advance will be annihilated; thus General Bates has wisely chosen to dispose his forces to cover both enemy flanks, putting him in position to counterattack if opportunity offers. We must, after all, sir, use what we have. Theoretical arms programmed for fiscal ninety are of no use whatever today. Umm. As for that, one must be flexible, modifying plans to meet a shifting tactical situation. Faced with the prospect of seeing the enemy drive through our center and descend unopposed on the vital installations at Cold City, I have, as you see, decided to order General Bates to make use of the experimental Mark XX. Certainly—my decision entirely. I take full responsibility.”

  25

  I advance over broken terrain toward my assigned position. The prospect of action exhilarates me, but my assessment of enemy strength indicates they are fielding approximately 17.4 percent greater weight of armor than anticipated, with commensurately greater firepower. I compute that I am grossly overmatched. Nonethe
less, I shall do my best.

  26

  “There’s no doubt whatever, gentlemen. Computers work with hard facts. Given the enemy’s known offensive capability and our own defensive resources, it’s a simple computation. No combination of the manpower and equipment at our command can possibly inflict a defeat on the PR forces at this time and place. Two is greater than one. You can’t make a dollar out of fifteen cents.”

  27

  “At least we can gather some useful data from the situation, gentlemen. The Bolo Mark XX has been committed to battle. Its designers assure me that the new self-motivating circuitry will vastly enhance the combat-effectiveness of the Bolo. Let us observe.”

  28

  Hate to see old Denny out there, just a great big sitting duck, all alone and—here they come! Look at ’em boiling out of there like ants out of a hot log. Can’t hardly look at that screen, them tactical nukes popping fireworks all over the place. But old Denny know enough to get under cover. See that kind of glow all around him? All right, it, then. You know, working with him—it—so long, it got to feeling almost like he was somebody. Sure, I know, anyway, that’s vaporized ablative shield you see. They’re making it plenty hot for him. But he’s fighting back. Them Hellbores is putting out, and they know it. Looks like they’re concentrating on him now. Look at them tracers closing in on him! Come on, Denny, you ain’t dumb. Get out of there fast.

  29

  “Certainly it’s aware what’s at stake! I’ve told you he—the machine, that is—has been fully programmed and is well aware not only of the tactical situation but of strategic and logistical considerations as well. Certainly it’s an important item of equipment; its loss would be a serious blow to our present underequipped forces. You may rest assured that its pain circuits as well as its basic military competence will cause it to take the proper action. The fact that I originally opposed commissioning the device is not to be taken as implying any lack of confidence on my part in its combat-effectiveness. You may consider that my reputation is staked on the performance of the machine. It will act correctly.”

 

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