Robot Wars: Thrown Into the Fray

by Nicholas Haring

  “You guys sure? Because we just passed Jones on the way here, he looked upset, and just brushed us off,” Sanchez said.

  “Where was he heading?” Fischer asked as he sighed.

  “He was heading down to the supply area,” Hartford said as the rest of the squad, including the reservists entered the bunker.

  “You maybe might want to check on Jones, Cap,” Martin said.

  “I was just about to. Martin, let everyone know our current sit-rep and get them ready; I’ll be back in a few minutes and we’ll go over tomorrow’s plan,” Fischer said, as he got up and exited the bunker.

  *****

  Fischer walked down the length of the main access trench to the supply area. He thought about calling Jones over the radio, but remembered spotting Jones’ headset on the radio before he left the bunker. Fischer made his way out of the trench and used his flashlight to scan the bus, spotting Jones inside.

  Fischer entered the bus. Jones was sitting on the right side, staring out of a fogged up window.

  “Hey, Jones, how’s it going?” Fischer asked.

  Jones didn’t respond.

  “Come on, Jones, I can’t have you acting like this. You’re a Dark Horse Commando for crying out loud!” Fischer said loudly, trying to get Jones’ attention.

  Jones finally turned his head and gave Fischer a look that told him he just didn’t care anymore.

  “I’m an idiot, sir. I blew it,” Jones sulked and set his forehead down on the seat in front of him.

  Fischer rolled his eyes.

  “Listen, I’m not going to stand here and give you a pity party. You know full well you wouldn’t be in my unit if you weren’t the best tech guy I could find. Now, get on your feet and follow me back to the bunker,” Fischer said as he walked up to Jones.

  Jones stood up, but didn’t look at Fischer; he was still looking off to his left.

  “I poured my heart out to her, sir, and she shot me down,” Jones said as he wiped his eyes.

  “Well, Jones, what were you thinking? Did you really think that was a good time to tell her?” Fischer asked.

  “That’s why I’m an idiot, sir. I had all that time to tell her and I didn’t; I waited until the last minute to tell her how I felt and she didn’t …”

  “Wait. The last minute? What are you talking about? You could’ve just told her once we got back to Orion,” Fischer said, interrupting Jones.

  Jones shook his head as he looked at Fischer, and then reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his PCC.

  “I should’ve shown this to you earlier, sir. I’m sorry,” Jones said as he handed him his PCC.

  Fischer looked at the small, brightly-lit screen. A map of the Grantsburg area had been pulled up. The current positions of all the units defending the town were marked in blue and to the south was large blob of red.

  “What is this?” Fischer asked.

  “I intercepted a secure transmission on my R-99 during the battle. Right before I left to hack the Mark Four; I ran it through a decoder program on my PCC. When I left back for the bunker it notified me it had finished decoding. What you’re looking at, sir, is a map the UMI sent to General Williams and General Snow. The robots have changed their attack strategy; they’re sending all their Mark Fours and Threes at us at once,” Jones said as he showed Fischer where the Mark Fours were.

  “Son of a -- that’s over three-hundred Threes and Fours,” Fischer said as he looked up from the screen.

  Fischer couldn’t believe it. He had just spoken with Williams and he hadn’t mentioned anything like this; he even told them the new satellite images weren’t available yet.

  “Are you sure this is legit?” Fischer asked.

  Jones nodded.

  “What are we going to do, Cap? There’s no way we can handle that many, not all at once, is there?” Jones said as he took his PCC back.

  “I’m not sure. Williams, hasn’t informed me on any changes. Have you shown this to anyone else?” Fischer asked.

  “No. I know I can get in a lot of trouble for intercepting and decoding transmissions meant for the higher-ups, but for some reason I felt it was worth the risk,” Jones said.

  Fischer wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t come forward with the information he possessed, otherwise he and Jones would get shit-canned. In this situation he would fallback to the second line right now, but the Reg Colonels wouldn’t go for it and Williams -- Williams would demand to know why -- and for good reason.

  “There’s also another problem, sir,” Jones said.

  “What’s that?” Fischer asked.

  “I’m almost positive the stop code we have is no longer valid,” Jones said with all seriousness.

  “It’s invalid, why?”

  “When HRUO armies retreat and reorganize they almost always change their codes to reflect their new organizations. If they are coming at us with a non-standard formation, then this would almost certainly indicate a new army, and therefore new codes.”

  “Can we get new ones?”

  Jones shook his head.

  “It would take weeks to compile new ones. I think our best hope is that I’m wrong, but …” Jones said as he stopped himself.

  “Jones, I don’t want you to tell anyone about this, okay? What I’ll do is inform everyone to be extra sharp and prepare to withdrawal at a moment’s notice; I think that’s the best I can do. After the meeting I’ll get in touch with General Williams or Snow and see if there is anything else I should know. Are you sure that they received the UMI map?” Fischer asked.

  “I’m not sure, sir. I can’t say for certain if they have seen it or not. I only know where the message was directed, but if they have it, surely they will do something about it, right?” Jones said.

  “I don’t know. The UMI has been wrong before and the robots rarely ever switch up their attack strategies, so the big-wigs are usually cautious about reacting. Besides, even if Snow wanted to do something, Williams has to make the call, so her hands would be tied anyway. It’s a complicated mess, Jones,” Fischer said as he shook his head.

  The two exited the bus – Jones reluctantly -- and they both headed back to the bunker. Fischer stared off toward the southern horizon. They’re out there somewhere, Fischer thought. He hoped the Jones was wrong and if he wasn’t – Fischer tried to not think about that.

  Chapter 29

  Brookes had just returned to the mortar pit after grabbing another box of mortar rounds from the supply area. She set them down on top of the three other boxes, making a nice seat where she eventually sat down. The thought of sitting on the ground again was already causing pain in her knees.

  I have the knees of an eighty-year-old woman, Brookes thought as she winced in pain. She sat on top of the metal ammunition boxes, and then watched Samson eagerly clean the mortar. There wasn’t much light in the pit so Brookes began to wonder if Samson even knew what he was doing.

  “You’re doing good, Samson, just don’t break anything,” Brookes said, and then leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

  Brookes’ first day of major combat was over, and she was exhausted both physically and mentally. No amount of training at the Academy could ever really prepare her for what had gone on. She had her eyes closed for only a few minutes when she heard someone walk into the pit on her left. She opened her eyes and saw Cross and just behind her, Kazir.

  “I forgot to catch you before we left the squad meeting, Lieutenant. I noticed it looked as though your knees were giving you trouble again,” Cross said as she opened her bag and knelt down in front of Brookes.

  “Yeah, do you have any more of the Ben … I mean Methyl Salicylate?” Brookes asked as she slowly rolled up her pant legs to expose her knees.

  Cross smiled and nodded as she rubbed the cream on Brookes’ knees. The relief was almost instant, even if it was impossible for the medicine to take effect that fast.

  “Much better, thank you, Cross,” Brookes said as she rolled down her pant legs. “I
just wish I could remember to bring my knee pads.”

  “Now that you mention it, I do have something else for you, ma’am,” Cross said as she reached into her bag and then pulled out some black knee pads.

  “Knee pads? Where did you get those?” Brookes asked as Cross handed them to her.

  “I found them in an old locker in the hideaway bunker. They’re probably too big for you, so don’t wear them too long,” Cross said.

  “Thanks again, Cross,” Brookes said as she put the bulky knee pads on.

  Brookes stood up and then bent her knees and then went to the ground to try out their cushion. They weren’t too comfortable, but they sure beat having her knees directly on the concrete all the time.

  Brookes looked over at Kazir, eyeing all the ammunition boxes.

  “Do you need any help with those, Lieutenant?” Kazir asked as he shifted his focus to Brookes.

  “No, I already got all of them from the supply point, but thanks anyway, Kazir,” Brookes said.

  “No, I meant do you need help putting them back on the bus?” Kazir asked. “I don’t believe we’re going to be here for too long tomorrow.”

  “Well, I’ll probably use most of these rounds before we have to pull back, Kazir,” Brookes said as she stood up.

  “I’m not so sure, ma’am. I have the feeling were only going to be here for less than an hour once the attack starts; if we’re lucky. The look in Captain Fischer’s eyes tipped me off,” Kazir said.

  “Well, I know we’ll have to retreat eventually, but the robots attack in waves and Jones told me we have the stop code,” Brookes said.

  Kazir shook his head and reached for two of the ammunition boxes.

  “I’m going to take two of these and put them at the end of the main access trench by the supply area. I want you to trust me on this one, ma’am,” Kazir said.

  The look on Kazir’s face shook Brookes up a little and without saying anything she nodded “Okay.” Kazir - without much effort - hoisted up two of the ammunition boxes and left the mortar pit. Cross stood there and watched as Kazir walked down the access trench until he was out of sight.

  “Tomorrow can’t be that bad, right? I’m sure Captain Fischer will figure something out,” Brookes said though she wasn’t all that certain she really believed it anymore. They had come close to losing earlier and that was just a single wave.

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t grab another, Lieutenant?” Cross asked.

  “No, it’s okay, Cross. We’ll just have to fire faster tomorrow. Right, Samson?” Brookes said as Samson looked up and nodded, but it looked like he wasn’t sure what he was nodding about.

  Cross paused for a moment and then looked at Brookes.

  “I think you should’ve let him take three, ma’am,” Cross said frankly and then exited the pit.

  Brookes sat down on the remaining ammunition boxes and tapped her right knee pad a few times with her right index finger. Her knees were starting to throb, but they weren’t in pain yet. She looked over at Samson, who had just finished cleaning the mortar and was sitting down, up against the wall on the other side from Brookes. Even though it was dark, she could tell Samson’s eyes were wide.

  “Are you okay, Samson?” Brookes asked; it looked like he was deeply worried.

  “What’s going to happen tomorrow, ma’am?” Samson asked; the tone in his voiced matching the worry in his eyes.

  “I’m not sure, Samson. We just need to focus on getting as many rounds shot out as we can. We’re more than likely going to be pulling back before we’re ready,” Brookes said as she tried to sound as much like Fischer as she could.

  Samson nodded and the two sat in silence for awhile. The cold air was really starting to settle in now and Brookes was freezing. Samson reached into his pack and pulled something out of it. Brookes only had one eye cracked open as she watched Samson unfurl something that looked like a sleeping bag.

  “What are you doing?” Brookes asked.

  “Oh … I was going to umm … going to give you my self-heating blanket, ma’am,” Samson said as though he wasn’t sure if he were in trouble or not.

  “Thanks, but you can keep it. I’m fine, really,” Brookes said, even though she thought that having it would be really nice right about now.

  “Ma’am, if you won’t use it, then I won’t,” Samson said firmly.

  Brookes rolled her eyes.

  “That’s touching, but really …” Brookes said but stopped as Samson walked over to give her the blanket.

  “You’re shivering, ma’am, and I’m used to being out in the cold. So will you please take it?” Samson said, and then extended out his arms. The blanket was tantalizingly close to her. Almost instinctively she grabbed it and wrapped up in the warmth.

  Brookes nodded thanks and Samson went back to lay down, propping his head on his pack.

  “Lieutenant, do you think I have what it takes to be a Dark Horse Commando?” Samson asked.

  Brookes wasn’t sure what to say, they had only been through one battle together and it wasn’t even really her call to make anyway. She knew that even if Samson performed really well, it would still be highly unlikely that Fischer would recruit him. Brookes didn’t respond, hoping that Samson would forget about it, but then Samson asked again; he was probably thinking Brookes didn’t hear him.

  “Anything is possible, Samson,” Brookes said as she looked over to Samson. “But remember we have to focus on the here and now.”

  “I thought about what you said to me earlier -- about choosing something and then doing it. Well, I want to be a Dark Horse Commando like you, ma’am,” Samson said.

  Aw crap, he’s like a stray puppy following me home, Brookes thought.

  “Okay, but remember what I said earlier, we have to focus on the here and now,” Brookes said even though she was positive that Samson was no longer listening.

  “That’ll be something –- a Dark Horse Commando. My dad will finally be proud of me,” Samson said.

  “Wait, is that why you want to be a commando, so that your father will be proud of you?” Brookes asked. “Because if it is, then it’s the wrong reasons.”

  “No-no-no, I mean that it would be nice, but I want to be somewhere where I can do the most good,” Samson said.

  Brookes realized what he said was pretty close to the reasons that she wanted to join, but she just wasn’t sure about it; some eighteen-year-old kid, who less than ten hours ago had no direction in life, suddenly discovered one?

  “I think that after this is over and you’re deactivated from active reserve duty, you should probably have a talk with your father,” Brookes said; she really didn’t want to get into this at the moment; she was tired and just wanted to get some sleep.

  Samson was quiet and then after a couple of minutes his breathing changed and it sounded like he had fallen asleep. Brookes yawned and thought that sleep was a good idea too. She tried to adjust her position so that she was more comfortable, but sleeping on freezing metal and concrete; there was only so much one could do. She stared up at the sky forgetting for a moment that it was covered in overcast; she closed her eyes in disappointment.

  Brookes sat there with her eyes closed. She became focused on the ambient noise of the electric hum. It wasn’t as steady as it had been; now it was pulsing and changing frequencies, seemingly at random. It wasn’t steady enough that she could tune it out. It was driving her mad and she began to wonder how Samson ever fell asleep in the first place.

  Brookes tried to think about other things and reflect on all the events leading up to her sitting in a freezing concrete mortar pit with a green reservist not too long out of high school. She thought about how glamorous and heroic the propaganda made this all seem when she was a kid. When she was in the Academy they never discussed staying warm as you tried to fall asleep on the front; the simulators never covered that.

  Heh… the simulators never prepare you for anything, Brookes thought. She thought about how with the simulators you always
knew in the back of your mind that you were safe. She realized how they never duplicated the uncertainty, the confusion, and the horror of an actual battle; no matter how real they tried to make it.

  Brookes thought she heard a faint foghorn noise in the distance. The image of the Four’s red eyes flashed through her mind like a night terror. She quickly opened her eyes, terrified and sweating. She looked around. She wasn’t even sure if she had fallen asleep or not, if she had, she had no idea for how long; it was still pitch-black out, and the electric hum still persisted the same.

  All that Brookes knew was that she was no longer sleepy, but she was still exhausted. Brookes stood up and threw off the thermal blanket and covered up Samson, who was shivering. Brookes decided to go back to the hideaway bunker and see if anyone else was awake.

  *****

  Brookes entered the hideaway bunker, which was dimly lit now and only slightly warmer than what it was outside. She found Cross bundled-up in the far left corner asleep and Jones huddled over his R-99 unit and his PCC. He had his headphones on as he was typing into his computer. He didn’t notice her as she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Oh, hey, what’s up, Lieutenant?” Jones asked as he turned around and removed his headphones.

  “Couldn’t sleep out there, so I thought I would come by and see if anyone was awake. What are you doing? Double-checking the codes again?” Brookes asked as she quietly pulled up a metal folding chair and sat next to Jones.

  “Not exactly,” Jones said, and then yawned. “I’m listening in on the HRUO signals and feeding them through my computer. I’m trying to discern patterns.”

  “Any luck?”

  “No.”

  Jones seemed to be nerve-racked as he laid his head on the table and slightly banged it over and over.

  “Maybe you should take a break Jones and get some sleep,” Brookes said.

  “I can’t, Lieutenant. I’ve got to try to figure out the stop codes before …” Jones said with an exhausted, frustrated tone before he stopped himself.

  “Wait? What did you say?” Brookes asked.