The Genie and the Engineer 3: Ravages of War

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The Genie and the Engineer 3: Ravages of War Page 24

by Glenn Michaels


  The first truck carrying 1st Battalion, 1st Brigade, of the 2nd Division (and, incidentally, Lenore 86 and the unit commander, Daneel 7) slowed as it approached the intersection of Lee Highway and Pageland Lane. Then it turned left, heading north. The lane itself was positioned west of Stony Ridge and made an ideal approach vector to the west side of the Civil War battlefield. The drivers and passengers of the few cars heading south on that narrow country road were greatly surprised by the steady procession of semi-tractor trailers going slowly northward and wondered why so many big trucks were using the small county road.

  As each truck passed the crossing of the Little Bull Run, the Scotties inside bailed out of the passenger side of the truck, passing their molecules through the sheet metal sides of the trailers. There they hid among the bushes and thick trees of the small creek, waiting for the rest of 1st Brigade. The trucks continued northward bound, their part in the operation finished.

  The trucks carrying 3rd and 4th Brigades of the 2nd Division (with Twiki 586 and Alpha 505) also turned north on Pageland Lane but the Scotties bailed out a few hundred yards earlier, following the pathway through the trees for a set of electric high voltage tension lines. Silently and hopefully undetected, they approached Stony Ridge from the southwest.

  “What marvelous weather we are having,” lamented Lenore 86 with a snort as she was jostled by the gusting wind from the northeast. The black clouds hanging overhead were positively ominous as well as depressing. The occasional blast of lightning and thunder made her skin crawl—well, it would have if she had any skin!

  She took one more look around and flew onward cautiously.

  Ω

  Vincent 286 waited impatiently in the bottom of the stone quarry. The last of his troops had arrived through the four portals over fifteen minutes earlier.

  He checked his internal chronometer. It was 7:40 p.m. “Okay, everybody, listen up,” he shouted over his WiFi link. “Our orders are clear. We will travel underground to the southwest and approach Stony Ridge from the northeast. Follow the Scottie in front of you. And don’t get lost! Okay, ready? Time’s up! Let’s go!”

  Turning, he cast a spell and plunged himself into the side of the quarry wall, merging his molecules with the rock and earth, heading south southwest underground, arrow straight for Stony Ridge. Unit by unit, I Corps, 2nd Division, 3rd Brigade was right behind him.

  Ω

  Roberta 300 and 1st Division of II Corps reached the path of the unfinished railroad just south of Sudley Springs on the Bull Run River. Their position put them east-northeast of Stony Ridge. And they were running a few minutes late. Not too surprising, considering the thickness of the growth along the banks of the Bull Run. With a little luck, Roberta 300 was planning to make up the time on the next leg of the approach.

  There was a quick bolt of lightning and the heavens opened up, suddenly pouring forth a deluge of rain.

  Roberta 300 sighed in frustration.

  The unfinished railroad that Southern General “Stonewall” Jackson had used so well in the Civil War had never been completed, but sections of the early embankments still existed. Roberta 300 had no difficulty following the railroad bed as it led to the southwest, even though there were no railroad ties or rails. The uneven hills of dirt were enough.

  “This way, everybody!” she yelled, flying down the trail as the rain fell harder.

  “Sir!” screamed Lisa 486 (1985, Weird Science), commander of 1st Brigade, in protest, just as a blast of plasma hit Roberta 300 from the right side, knocking her out of the air and into the bushes.

  First contact with the enemy at the Third Battle of Manassas had just been made.

  Ω

  “Dad!” shouted Daneel 1. “Look!” And he pointed at one of the displays. “Roberta 300 is badly hurt! Lisa 486 of II Corps reports that they have been attacked by Oni!”

  “Where?” Paul bellowed, spinning around to look at the display, a sudden stab of pain in his chest. With frenzied haste, he studied the display map of the battlefield intently.

  “Just southwest of Bull Run and Sudley Springs, along the railroad embankment,” Daneel 1 reported smartly, throwing a blinking red light onto the map.

  Paul studied the chart. It made no sense for the Oni to be at that location unless it was a patrol or observation post of some kind. Unless…

  “Where is Ulysses 18?” Paul shouted anxiously.

  “Here, sir,” Ulysses 18 replied, floating quickly across the grass in Paul’s direction.

  He jerked a finger in the direction of the map. “How far east along the railroad embankment did “Stonewall” Jackson position his troops?”

  “Up to the intersection of the railroad with the Manassas-Sudley Road,” Ulysses replied. “The same place that Roberta 300 was attacked.”

  Just wonderful! Paul inwardly screamed. Now he tells me!

  “Daneel!” he howled. “Tell Lisa 486 she has found the left flank of the enemy. Tell her to attack with everything she’s got and to push forward as hard as she can. Get Roberta 300 evacuated back to Mount Logan! And tell Lisa to keep us informed!”

  Ω

  At 7:40 hours, 68 miles due east of downtown Washington DC, on the empty beaches north of the small town of Claiborne, Maryland, Jarvis 186 waited with the Scotties of I Corps, 1st Division, 1st and 2nd Brigades watching the sun go down over the black waters of Chesapeake Bay.

  “People, listen up!” he yelled, with a magically amplified voice. “Now all of you know the plan but let me go over it again, just for my peace of mind, shall we? Pay attention. We are here, on the east side of the Chesapeake Bay because it puts us far enough over the curve of the Earth that Errabêlu, near Manassas Battlefield National Park, cannot detect our portals. In short, they don’t know we are here. We will string out along the beach to the north and south and then launch in a few minutes, using a low magic energy path upward to 80 miles in altitude. Hopefully, as we rise above the curve of the Earth, we will be using so little energy and we will be so widely spread out, that they can’t detect us. Once we reach target altitude, we will further reduce our energy emissions and drift westward, until we are over the Potomac. From there, we will let gravity take over, which will bring us down in a parabolic path down on top of Stony Ridge. If we do this right, they will never see us coming.” He paused. “Are there any questions? No? Good. You all know your assignments. Don’t mess this up people or you will not like the consequences. Fear me more than the enemy. Got it? Dad is counting on us and the I Corps will not let him down! Is that clear?”

  In unison, they all screamed, “Clear, Sir!”

  A large clock appeared in mid-air in front of Jarvis 186.

  “Lift off in ten minutes!” he screamed. “It’s time to get into your positions. Assume launch formation! And run final diagnostics!”

  He watched closely as over 6,000 Scotties arranged themselves into a north-south line, spaced roughly ten feet apart.

  Internally, he checked bus voltages, core temperatures, and event logs. Everything looked clean. Nervously, he watched his internal clock click down.

  At 7:49 p.m., he turned back to I Corps, 1st Division.

  “Standby!” he yelled. “Thirty seconds to launch!…Twenty!…Ten!”

  “Lift-off!” screamed Jarvis 186, and all 6,000 Scotties began accelerating straight up at exactly 1.5 gee.

  With growing speed they continued upward, accelerating swiftly into the twilight. They passed 1 mile in just 20 seconds, 5 miles in 45 seconds, 30 miles in 110 seconds and began to arch their path over slightly to the west.

  With a gravity assisted turn completed, they stopped accelerating, now moving at 2,000 feet per second, slowly pulling together to form a disc formation. They went feet dry just north of Galesville, Virginia still heading due west.

  In another two minutes, they would shut-down all their magic spells, becoming virtually undetectable.

  Or so they hoped.

  Ω

  The time was 7:59 p.m. Less th
an one minute to go before the attack was to have begun. No one west of Stony Ridge knew that the battle was already underway on the east side, near Sudley Springs. Twiki 586 with 3rd Brigade and Alpha 505 with 4th Brigade were spread out along a line southwest of Stony Ridge, using what tree cover was available.

  All they could detect up the slope was cleared fields and a couple of homes. Everything else seemed to be hidden by the downpour of rain and the darkness. Even the street lights in the area seemed ineffective at illuminating the neighborhood.

  It was time.

  “Attack!” they yelled in unison, unleashing a spell in front of them that would have rendered a flock of bull elephants unconscious. Then they and their brigades advanced.

  Without warning, a barrage of plasma fire met them head on.

  Ω

  Two thousand feet further north, Daneel 7, Lenore 86, and 1st Brigade of 2nd Division advanced from the west, out of the creek-bed of the Little Bull Run. They too made little progress across the open fields before meeting a horrendous wave of plasma fire.

  Ω

  Jarvis 186 and 1st Division had followed their ballistic course, passing back into the lower atmosphere almost directly above Stony Ridge. They played the part of dumb falling rocks really well, rapidly approaching ground level at the top of the ridge, falling straight into the dense black clouds of the raging storm.

  And then, suddenly, before they could react, a huge maw of nothingness opened up before them inside the cloud bank and swallowed 1,234 Scotties of I Corps, mostly from the center of the group. The rest emerged from the clouds directly above the ridge into a huge volley of plasma fire.

  Neither Jarvis 186 nor Dorian 223 was among them.

  Ω

  “Dad!” shrieked Daneel 1, above the noise of the now howling wind and thunder. “2nd Division of I Corps reports very heavy plasma fire on the northwest and southwest approaches to Stony Ridge! 1st Division of I Corps reports some sort of portal opened up and swallowed almost a third of their Division! Sir, Jarvis 186 is not answering! All communication with him has been lost!”

  To the northwest, Paul could see the storm swiftly intensifying, lightning flashing through the black clouds continuously now, the roll of thunder a constant roar, like an old steam locomotive at breakneck speed.

  “Who’s left in charge?” Paul roared.

  “Jenny 199,” (TV series My Life As a Teenage Robot) “reports very heavy plasma fire as well!” he shouted. “They are unable to descend below 500 feet above the ridge!”

  It made no sense! How was Errabêlu able to put up this much of a fight? A couple of hundred wizards and a few thousand Oni? They couldn’t possibly have the talismans necessary for the magic needed. The Scotties should have crushed them within the first few seconds of the battle! And a third of I Corps, 1st Division gone! Just like that?! How? A profound sense of panic gripped him as he struggled to understand what was happening. Paul pressed his palms hard up against his temples, trying to stop the throbbing headache that had suddenly developed.

  “Sir, do you want us to withdraw?” yelled Daneel 1.

  Paul was on the verge of ordering just that. After all, it was his beloved Scotties that were disappearing, maybe dying.

  But the stakes here were incredibly high. If he withdrew the Scotties, the war might actually be lost altogether. The lives of millions of Normals depended on his getting this decision right. So he instead held up a hand. He needed time to think!

  “Get a report from Lisa 486 first!” he shouted, above the noise of the constant thunder.

  Ω

  After dealing with the five Oni that had attacked them and knocked out Roberta 300, Lisa 486 had quickly formed the Scotties into a broad formation and ordered them to advance with shields raised. The trees and forest growth was an impediment but they made steady progress, breaking free and over the Sudley Road less than a minute later.

  The far side was mostly an open field for 600 feet. Lisa took an instant dislike for the open ground.

  “Portal across!” she sternly transmitted.

  She popped through a portal, emerging just shy of the forest on the west side.

  Her shields were instantly hit with plasma fire. Instantly, she fired back, doing her best to render the enemy unconscious, as per standing orders. For whatever reason, it was taking the combined magical energy of multiple Scotties to render even this one single Oni insensible. From the five Oni that they had already captured, she knew that the enemy’s talismans were inferior to her own. How in the blue blazes did they resist the Scottie’s spells with inferior talismans?

  The Scotties’ shields held and Lisa 486, with the 1st Division, advanced relentlessly, yard-by-yard disposing of the Oni in their path.

  Ω

  “1st Division, II Corps is advancing down the railroad bed!” Daneel 1 shouted. “Apparently, you were correct about it being the Errabêlu left flank! But Lisa 486 reports that the individual Oni are incredibly resistant!”

  Paul watched as a funnel cloud formed northwest of Manassas, the spiraling shape barely discernible against the horizon. Beneath him, he could feel the trembling of the Earth itself.

  And still it made no sense to him! Where was the power coming from? Errabêlu couldn’t have enough talismans to do this! Not without rare isotopes! And Paul felt certain that they didn’t have that secret, not yet anyway! Without the power of rare isotopes, it would take a talisman the size of—”

  Without warning, the answer leapt suddenly into his head. Oh, what an idiot he was! How stupid could a man get?

  “Daneel! They must be using the Earth itself as a talisman!” he shouted, confident that he had finally latched onto the right answer.

  “The Earth? But how? It’s not homogeneous enough!” the Scottie shouted back. “The lithosphere or crust is badly segmented and there aren’t any really large rocks here. They would have to…oh…oh…I think I see! The upper mantle!”

  Paul nodded as it all came together for him. The wizards of Errabêlu must have drilled a hole down through the Earth, past the lithosphere. Most likely they were tapping the upper mantle also known as the Asthenosphere which, according to the one geology class he’d taken as a college elective, was fifty or sixty miles down. Great Lords of Kobol, if they could do that, then the power they could wield would greatly dwarf the Scotties’ own!

  How did they fight that? Overwhelming panic stalked him openly, threatening to drown him in a sea of insanity.

  “Dad!” Daneel yelled. “Lenore 86 reports that a huge portal opened up and swallowed hundreds of her Scotties and even a few Oni! Sir, she requests permission to withdraw!”

  What to do? There seemed nowhere to turn! All of their plans and schemes, all the simulations that they had run on Mars…nothing had prepared them for anything like this! His Scotties were being swept from the battlefield in group lots! The war was lost! Paul’s body froze in place and he found himself gripped by panic, unable to speak a word. Disaster loomed before him, a bottomless pit of blackness at his feet.

  But his mind was still active, spinning like a dynamo as it continued to search frantically for an answer, his thoughts flashing wild ideas out by the score. True, there might not be many Errabêlu wizards, but if they had tapped the upper mantle of the Earth, then the Scotties were doomed! They stood no chance of winning this battle. Not unless they had a talisman as potent—

  The sudden idea slammed him upside the head. It was stunning in its simplicity. Would it really work? Could it be as simple as all that?

  “Daneel! Gort!” Paul yelled frantically, suddenly able to use his voice again. “Get 4th Brigade of 1st Division to start a hole toward the center of the Earth, now! Right here! It doesn’t have to be large! And weave a series of carbon nanotubes down through the hole to the Earth’s lower mantle!”

  “But Dad! That’s hundreds of miles down!” protested Daneel 1. “It could take days! And what good would that do us, if they are using the lower mantle instead of the upper one again
st us?”

  Paul turned to the cube, gesturing wildly. “And why should they use the one that is more difficult to reach? No, I’m sure I’m right! Go for the lower mantle!”

  Daneel blinked and considered the issue. “Yeah, sure, Dad! We’ll start immediately!”

  “Tell them to hurry!” Paul bellowed hysterically. “We have to buy time for this to work! Arcee 77! 3rd Brigade is with me!”

  Ω

  Vincent 286 and 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, I Corps were running nine minutes late, mostly due to their slow progress through the thick rocky ground between the Quarry and Stony Ridge. They emerged into the center of a scene straight from Dante’s Inferno itself.

  Darkness reigned everywhere except when bolts of lightning lit the landscape, like a series of giant strobes. The storm was raging ferociously, hailstones the size of softballs careening through the hurricane force winds. Half a dozen tornadoes were dancing around the ridge, wildly flinging debris and hard stinging rain like bullets in all directions. The ground shook continuously in a constant earthquake. The Scotties of I and II Corps were flying madly around, dodging a colossal number of impossibly large and potent plasma bolts. A few Oni bodies lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by a much larger number of immobile black cubes.

  Vincent 286 and his troops entered the fray, fighting back tenaciously.

  A huge portal opened up on the southwest corner of the ridge, swallowing another 789 Scotties and a dozen Oni, before collapsing inward.

  Vincent 286 didn’t notice, the battle too intense, too loud and too disorganized. He and the remainder of 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, I Corps fought on.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Manassas Battlefield National Park, Virginia

  Stony Ridge

 

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