Undazzled

by Chance Maree

  “Are Socrates and Baha thought to be in danger?”

  Thomas nodded. “The geologists suggest that the entire city of Socrates is vulnerable in case of a volcanic eruption. Baha is better situated; Lieutenant Chang will pull up their tents and move all citizens to structures erected higher on the mountain.”

  “Lieutenant Krull, distribute shuttles between Galileo and Socrates. We have enough air power to accommodate both evacuations.” The commander resisted asking whether Barbara and their son, Julius, had arrived safely in Einstein. He knew better than to show concern over individuals when entire cities were at stake.

  “Commander!” A private wheeled back from a central monitoring station. The young man's beak gaped wide in surprise. “We've just lost the signal from every drone near the canyon!”

  Gunner hissed as though he'd been kicked. Sun Tzu's words—In war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak—sprung to mind, as though the general whispered them himself. Losing the drone monitoring system put them at a disadvantage. That, with the volcano action meant something was up.

  “Lieutenant Thomas,” the commander said, “We are about to be attacked. Full planet red alert.”

  While the lieutenant barked orders that would be broadcast to everyone with a personal com, Gunner grabbed binoculars and scrambled up the knoll to view the canyon. At first the binoculars seemed out of focus, but an auto-diag indicated that the field glasses were functioning normally. A distortion field was moving across the plains like a wave. The wave broke in the direction of Galileo and it was moving fast.

  Gunner braced himself and felt the impact pass through to his bones, and out the other side. A sharp stabbing pain erupted behind his right ear. It nearly dropped him to his knees. The smell of burnt flesh permeated his nostrils. At the same time, a silver object fell from the sky and crashed near the headquarter tent. Gunner turned and watched as the distortion wave engulfed the city, extinguishing lights in its wake. Buildings appeared to waver, as though Galileo was itself a mirage. Gunner held his hand to his throbbing ear and stumbled toward the tent. Thomas emerged, blood stained his hand and streamed from his ear.

  “Commander, we've been hit.” The lieutenant stepped over a fallen drone. “Communication and monitoring devices everywhere are down. We're still checking, but systems, weapons—everything technical has been…fried. We're blind and defenseless, sir.”

  “Transport, too?” Gunner asked, looking at the nearby WeeVil. A soldier who had been standing guard near the vehicle hopped in, but was unable to start the engine.

  “We can expect a second attack,” the commander said. He turned toward the canyon and lifted his binoculars. The motorized focus mechanism had been rendered useless, so he manually adjusted the lens. From the canyon approached a dark cloud, and it was moving towards Galileo like a migratory swarm.

  “Send six runners to warn the civilians. We cannot defend them, so order everyone to flee the city. Have soldiers gather anything that can still function as a weapon. Explosives. Knives. Whatever they can find.”

  “Yes, Commander.” The lieutenant saluted before sprinting back to the tent. It’s too quiet—there should be sirens. Gunner switched his com off and on, noting that his ear was sore and the com was dead. At least the binoculars worked.

  The front of the swarming cloud halted near the border of the tent section of the city. The cloud grew in density as the rear particles caught up to the front, and together they formed a cube 100 feet high and twice the length. Gunner watched, anticipating the dreadful weapon about to be unleashed.

  Man-sized figures materialized and stepped forward in unison from the front of the cube. They were bipeds, human-shaped, masked soldiers in white armor from head to boot. Holding neither gun nor shield, the robotic soldiers moved in synchronized step, with both white gloved hands held slightly forward of their bodies like dueling cowboys. Once the front line cleared ten paces, a second line of soldiers emerged from the cube, marching in the same, slow, mechanized pace. A third line formed, and then a fourth.

  By the time the fifth had cleared the cube, the front line reached the tents. Several minutes of observation revealed their strategy: when the line of robots encountered a tent, two would enter and the robots behind them would take their place in line. Once the tent had been cleared, the robots reentered the formation.

  Lieutenant Thomas returned. “Awaiting your next orders, sir.” He stood at attention, and although his voice was raspy, Gunner noted the steely confidence in the lieutenant's gaze, which somehow made the situation worse.

  “Gather the men, Lieutenant. I will speak to them directly.”

  In short order, all military personnel stood on the slopes surrounding the communication tent. Gunner climbed atop his WeeVil and looked upon the variety of faces—gators, lizards, and snakes, a fair number of wolves, birds with hooked beaks, a few lions and tigers, and a smattering of stags and moose. Despite the scales, fur, and feathers, Gunner recognized dedication, courage, and discipline. These were brave men and women who trusted his command.

  Gunner cleared his throat. “Have no doubt, I would be proud to lead you into war today. Only a fool would bet against our victory. Had our enemy chose to engage in battle, they would have lost, for you are indomitable fighters. Earth has conceived no greater warriors than those standing before me right now. You are the protectors of Galileo.”

  “But,” Gunner continued, pointing towards the invaders, “the enemy did not send soldiers. They chose not to engage us in battle. Those…things…are exterminators. They think we’re termites. I will not lose a single one of you to a stinking goat turd nanobot. Therefore, it is with the deep respect, and great regret, that I command you to retreat from Galileo.”

  The commander waited for the crowd's murmurs to subside. After shifting of feet and quick glances between comrades, all faces turned once again to the commander.

  “My order is for you to survive. Survive this day, and I swear we will fight this enemy soon enough. We will find them. We will ferret the fecal-headed cowards out from under their rocks, and we will squash them. They will regret this day. I swear. Go now, take a survival pack and run to those mountains, or down the river—anywhere away from the city. Tell other troops you meet. Do not to engage the enemy. I repeat, do not engage those…those…fucktard toasters.

  “Let me assure you, there is no shame in this retreat. To win the morrow, you must survive this day. Then watch the city, and when it is safe, gather over there, in the brush around the landing strip. When next we meet, I expect to see war gleams in your eyes. I expect fire in your bellies and the lust for revenge in your hearts. Survive today, and although I know you detest retreating as much as I—I promise you another, more glorious day when we will stomp the enemy underneath our victorious boots. On that day, we will bring the biggest mother bastard of all thunder screwking battles ever known in this galaxy right up the ass of to our enemy.”

  The soldiers cheered.

  “Go now!” Lieutenant Krull began moving the crowd away. “You heard the commander: exit the city. Take cover. Meet us at the air strip once the coast is clear.”

  Gunner leapt off the WeeVil and watched his troops depart. Thomas returned to his side. “Are you ready, Commander?”

  “Go, Lieutenant. Be safe. In a couple days, I want to see you at the air strip.”

  “I thought I’d travel with you, sir.”

  Gunner was busy thinking. His reply was hasty. “I'm going to observe those toasters. I need to see them for myself. This operation of theirs may well provide me with insight.”

  “We have scouts for suicide missions.”

  This was the first time Thomas had ever opposed the commander. Gunner paused, unused to having to explain himself. Doing so felt awkward, but Thomas was a disciplined man and would not have overstepped his position without due reason, so Gunner decided not to snap at him.

  “I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant, but without recorders, I'd have to
rely on the scouts' verbal reports. Our enemy is unknown and alien. I want to observe them for myself. Once I understand them, I can defeat them.”

  “I volunteer to accompany you, sir. You may find use for my service.”

  Gunner gave Thomas a brief nod. “It’s your funeral, Lieutenant.”

  From a vantage point near the riverbed, Gunner and Thomas lay in wait until the last particles of the black cube formed into a row of robots. Gunner, watching through binoculars, estimated that the robots numbered over a thousand. The white bipeds disappeared into the streets of Galileo, with unknown purpose. They appeared uninterested in damaging city structures, materials, or equipment.

  “We'll follow the rear guard from a distance. Reconnaissance procedures from here on out.”

  Thomas nodded.

  Zones One and Two were deserted, as expected. Occupants of the tents had been recent arrivals who'd merely grabbed their packs and ran to the shuttles. Once Gunner and Thomas moved into the city proper, keeping along the public sections where supplies and materials were stored, they came upon an unusual amount of debris—abandoned equipment, small transportation vehicles, clothing, and, strangely, a variety of animal droppings. Thomas looked quizzically at the commander, who shrugged.

  Gunner signaled Thomas to enter a multistory structure, one of the tallest in the area. There, they could observe the robots from a safe distance. The building served as storage for civilian supplies and materials, including water canteens and nutrition packs.

  They climbed a ladder to a hatch on the roof and crawled on their bellies to the edge. Through binoculars, Gunner observed a row of robots approaching a building several blocks away. Two of the robots halted and dissolved into a black swarm, which proceeded to coat the front of the structure. The swarm concentrated around the doorframe and windows before oozing inside. Several minutes later, the front door opened and the robots exited, leaving the door open behind them.

  “Sir!” Thomas tapped Gunner's arm and pointed to an area near the northern outskirts of the city. Gunner's stomach hurled hot coals into his throat. Four citizens had been flushed from hiding. With coordinated precision, a group of robots broke rank to herd the citizens down a street. A building blocked Gunner's view, but at the far end of the street, he saw a line of robots alter direction while still marching shoulder to shoulder. The citizens were running into a trap. Gunner lowered his binoculars.

  Thomas continued to scan the streets. “I've seen no casualties.”

  “No captures, either.”

  “Shit fire and save the matches.”

  Gunner had never known Thomas to curse, so with trepidation, he looked where the deputy lieutenant was pointing and saw two zebras galloping down a nearby street.

  Both men put aside their binoculars. “Could be a hallucination,” Thomas said.

  “And I could be Christ on a crutch.” Gunner wiped his hands on his pants. “It looks like the toasters are going to mill around the city a while. I assume they’re able to detect us by infrared, or sound. They’re networked and coordinated. We need to evade them until this blows over.”

  “The shortest route is to cut through the hydroponic gardens. They're about five blocks away.”

  Those were the longest five blocks Gunner had ever traversed. He and Thomas moved separately, in short sprints, gesturing signals to stop, go, or hide. Progress was slow. They crouched as they ran and with no place to hide, could only plaster themselves against doorways.

  At last, the garden was in sight, and Gunner heard a whinny. Thomas ran from his hiding spot to the commander's side.

  “I heard a horse,” Gunner whispered.

  “There are a couple pens for animals near the gardens. When the natives visited, their horses were deposited there.” Thomas was pale and sweating.

  “I learned to ride when I was a boy,” Gunner said, deep in memory. He noticed that Thomas's eyes widened with surprise—only wealthy families owned horses. Not wanting to disillusion the lieutenant, Gunner added, “The horse owner's permission was never requested—nor denied, for that matter.”

  “I see.” Thomas grinned.

  “How about you?”

  “The only horses I've ever seen were in vids.”

  The men crept forward and peered around the corner of a building. Across a stretch of grass, a black horse paced nervously in a small corral.

  “Looks like we ride double,” Gunner said.

  Thomas blanched. He looked over Gunner's shoulder. “Sir! Robots!”

  Gunner spotted them, too. “To the horse!” As he dashed forward, Gunner realized that Thomas hadn't followed.

  “Go!” Thomas yelled. “I'll divert their attention and meet you at the gateway.”

  He's giving me orders now? Gunner sprinted to the corral, then stopped before spooking the creature. He approached calmly. The animal rolled its eyes, but stood still when Gunner slipped through the railing. A single piece of rope hung on a post. The horse tossed its head, fighting as Gunner struggled to loop the rope around its lower jaw. It was even less tolerant of his attempt to mount, which had been much easier in memory. Staying on the animal would be harder. It’d been decades since he’d ridden, much less bareback. Memories of being tossed made him wary and careful to stay in control and on board by squeezing his knees without applying pressure with his calves. On the second try, Gunner maneuvered the horse to a position where he could reach and open the gate. Once outside the corral, he looked around for Thomas.

  The lieutenant had nearly been successful in avoiding the robots. From the look on Thomas's face, he thought he was in the clear. He was running towards Gunner, but skidded to a stop as a single robot stepped from behind a storage bin. The robot pointed at Thomas, who hesitated, gauging a way to escape.

  First, Thomas's body appeared to shimmer. The robot's finger pointed at Thomas's head, and then moved slowly downward towards the lieutenant's feet. Gunner blinked several times at what had to be a hallucination. Thomas fell on his back, convulsing, and then, after a shattering shimmer of light, a lizard with flailing limbs and slashing tail rolled over and over in the dust, moving closer to Gunner. Its eyes met his. The creature's front leg gestured absurdly, reminiscent of a military hand signal—RUN!

  Gunner galloped off.

  ⁂

  The horse was lathered but still running strong when they reached the foot of the mountain range. Gunner’s strength was waning, his thighs burned and the rest of his body was numb. Suddenly, the piercing screech of a mountain lion spooked the horse and it jumped sideways, striking out with its heels in a sudden pitch that tossed Gunner over the side. He kept his grip on the rope, desperate to maintain control of the horse, but the creature was savvy, and after several quick tosses of its head, the loop around its jaw slipped. Gunner scrambled to his feet with limp rope in hand and watched the horse thunder away, disappearing into the grassy stretch of the plains.

  A large cat roared again. The commander unsheathed his combat knife. Memory of Thomas's last gesture struck Gunner again—the lieutenant’s courage, sacrifice—the best of humanity reduced to the form of a lizard writhing in the dust. Gunner wiped moisture forming around his eyes. Could the cat he heard have been human, as well? Maybe even someone he knew?

  The sun was slipping behind the mountains. A cool breeze stirred the grass tops. Gunner straightened, slowed his breathing, and put away the fear and emotions that had agitated any and all of his thoughts into bits of pure chaos. His immediate choice was simple; all else would be dealt with later. Gunner looked around for a safe place to eat and spend the night. He spotted a tree, not as tall as he would have liked, but climbable, and certainly more easily defensible than the open plains or ledges on the mountain.

  At sunrise, Gunner was awakened by the aching of his body. He untied the rope that had secured him to the trunk and climbed down from the torturous branch. After relieving himself and eating another protein pouch, Gunner began the long walk towards Galileo.

  The first anima
l Gunner saw was what looked like an extinct, silver timber wolf. They startled one another. The wolf looked feminine—sweet, even.

  “Help me,” she rasped.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Hungry.”

  Gunner opened several protein packets and watched her gulp them down. “I can give you more once I get back to Galileo, but what you need to do, I think, is to join up with other wolves and learn to hunt.”

  She lifted her nose to the air. “We are many.”

  “Go, then,” Gunner said. He tried to add enthusiasm and hope into his voice. “If you get into trouble, go to the city. I'll make certain the doors to the supply centers are open.”

  The wolf's ears perked up. She glanced at Gunner briefly before loping into the cover of grasses.

  Other animals crossed Gunner's path. He saw deer, snakes, an eagle overhead, and a tiger, who glanced sulkily at him before slinking away. Gunner learned to move slowly, watchful of movement in the grass around him. So far, the animals were more disoriented than threatening, but hunger would change that.

  The walk to Galileo took most of the day. Gunner kept watch for robots, and for Thomas. True to his word, Gunner toppled bins of protein bars for scavenging animals. He moved through the military tents and the supply building, packing what he needed into a knapsack. After years of practice, maintaining his mental discipline was second nature. While he searched for others who'd escaped the robots, he disabused himself from any such hope. With that state of mind, Gunner headed to the airstrip.

  The day felt short; a change of season was in the air. Gunner walked the length of the deserted landing field. He stood in the middle, lifted his arms into the air, and yelled, “I'm here! Who will come to meet me?”

  At first, silence was the only answer. He called again, “This is Commander Dovmont. I order my troops to come forth.” Gunner's shoulders drooped as he glanced about the field.