They Also Serve

by Mike Moscoe

  SIXTEEN

  KAT CAME AWAKE at first light to find Nikki curled up to her back. They’d walked far into the night before calling it quits. Sharing the one sleeping bag and several blankets, they’d gotten little rest between shivers. Kat kicked herself for her poor planning. She’d assumed they’d arrive after a comfortable blimp ride and fire off the box; she hadn’t really planned on roughing it. Even if she had, she reminded herself during the storms, they had dumped about everything over the blimp’s side. This whole thing was one desperate gamble, thrown together at a gallop. To think, she’d argued with Lek for the honor. But the old guy would never have survived a night on the cold ground; best this one was left to the young.

  Leaving the box out in the sun to warm, they inventoried what food the mechs had crammed into their pockets before they jumped. Their flight suits had a lot of pockets. Still, they were going to be hungry if they didn’t get resupplied soon.

  While the crew breakfasted on about one-sixth of their chow, Kat called in. “Colonel, it’s a bit colder up here than we planned and we’re kind of shy on food. Any consideration you might give to running another blimp up here would be gratefully appreciated.”

  “I’d love to, Kat”—she could hear regret in the Colonel’s voice and knew what would come next—“but the weather’s not going to let us.”

  “Looked that way from here, sir,” Kat said. “We’re ready to start. I figured we might hit the guy ruining our weather. Any changes in priorities?”

  “Based on a visit I had last night with the Pres and Prov, target twelve was the right one. The Pres has lost his capacity to mess with our DNA. No matter what happens now, the species lives.” That drew a feeble cheer from Kat’s crew.

  “Lek says Dancer would rework your priorities. Hit target nine—repeat, nine—to put the Weather Proctor out of business. The Prov is priority one through five. Take them out next. The Pres is the rest of the targets. Cut him up as you can.”

  “I had a bad feeling about our priorities,” Kat growled, “when the DNA thing was last on the list. We’ll whale on the Provost today. The Pres tomorrow.”

  “Good. One more thing.” The concern in the Colonel’s voice sent a cold shiver down Kat’s spine. “Our team blowing up rock outcroppings has developed rashes from nanos. We’re still looking into that. You’re not drilling holes, but you might want to stick to recently eroded areas. Streams and the like.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Colonel. Now if you’ll excuse us, the box is warm. Let’s not keep the Weather Proctor waiting.”

  Kat turned to her crew. “Shall we, folks?”

  Jeff was exhausted, struggling to keep his head up as the sky lightened. They’d ridden or walked through the night. If Lil’s reader was right, the mule was over the next ridge.

  Jeff paused there, to let his horse rest and Annie and Lil catch up. When he looked for the mule, it wasn’t there. There was lumps where it should have been. “What’s wrong?” Annie asked as Jeff’s stomach went into free fall. He pointed.

  “Sweet Mother of God,” Annie breathed.

  “Oh, shit, not Zed, not the boy!” Lil shouted, racing down the hill Jeff ran after her, threw her to the ground.

  “We don’t know what’s down there. We’ve got to go slow.”

  They did, once Annie brought the horses down. Halfway there, Jeff stopped. “One of us has to talk to the Colonel.” He handed his commlink to Annie. “You punch that button to talk.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re staying a good quarter mile behind us,” he told her. “We’ll get close enough to see. We tell you, you tell him. No arguments now, Annie. You know I’m right.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because I say so. Right, Lil?”

  “Sometimes you listen to a guy, honey.”

  Lil and Jeff stepped off, leaving the horses with Annie. “What do you think happened?” Jeff whispered when they were far enough away from Annie.

  “The nanos got ’em. That Provost bastard is a fast learner.”

  “You feeling any itching, any rash from last night?”

  “No. I wish to hell I’d thought about that idea sooner. I should have started thinking when Zed first said he itched,” she said bitterly. As they got closer, they saw that the ceramic and cloth portions of the mule were untouched. Anything that had metal in it was gone.

  “I don’t see any bodies,” Jeff called. “There’s not enough metal in us that the nanos would have taken everything.”

  Lil pointed to a stream. A hank of hair covered a shrunken skull. “That’s Zed. I guess he tried to wash them off.”

  They edged around the mule. The trailer looked unharmed. Harry and Ned must have pushed it away from the mule, away from themselves before the nanos could attack it. Where were they? Run off when the agony drove them crazy with the pain? Jeff searched the early twilight but saw nothing.

  “Jeff, you wait here.” Lil stepped gingerly to the back of the trailer, pulled the tarp up. “Yeah, gear’s here.” She tapped her commlink, told Annie to come in but keep her distance. “The nanos have tried us humans’ metal. Let’s see that they don’t develop a taste for us. Me, I like being at the top of the food chain.”

  Jeff retrieved his commlink from Annie, keeping her from getting too close. Since Lil didn’t seem to think it was a private’s job to bring the Colonel bad news first thing in the morning, Jeff made the call.

  “You sure it’s nanos?” the Colonel asked.

  “No, sir. None of us is qualified to made a professional assessment on something no one’s ever seen. And I ain’t got any special test gear, sir,” Jeff snapped. Tired, he knew he was losing his temper. Damn, what did the man expect?

  There was silence on the net. “I’m sorry,” the Colonel gently said as he began again. “I know Ned and Harry were good friends of yours. Last night I thought I had the two computers fighting each other,” the Colonel sighed. “Guess they were able to pull off a few other things as well. The box is working up North, but that’s about all that went right with that task force. The blimp crashed, and they lost most of their supplies. Kat’s doing what she can.”

  “Sorry, sir.” Jeff felt chagrined fussing at a man who was carrying them all. He found himself trying to cheer the colonel up. “Harry and Ned shoved the trailer away from the mule before they died. We’ve got explosives and batteries to keep the drills going. If you’ve got more targets, we’ll do ’em,” Jeff offered without thinking and with immediate regret.

  “None at the moment. Stay clear of the nanos.”

  Jeff heartily agreed with that sentiment. Then he remembered. “Sir, Lil came up with an idea last night that let us take out our last hill without getting bit.” Jeff quickly explained. “Those computers aren’t the only ones that can adjust.”

  “Outstanding. Lil’s one tough trooper, tell her that for me. I’ll get back when I’ve got a target for you.”

  Jeff passed the word to Lil; she smiled weakly at the praise. They packed the horses with the remaining explosives and batteries. Jeff slung a laser drill over one shoulder, his rifle over the other. “Shall we head for the base?”

  “Retreat, hell,” Lil spat. “I’m just getting started. If they need us, it ain’t back there.” She turned to face the east. “The enemy’s that way. I got a score to settle for Zed. But you two, you can go on back.”

  Jeff shivered. Scared, really scared for the first time. The thought of Ned and Harry reduced to husks somewhere out there haunted him. All yesterday’s excitement and courage was down the toilet. He eyed Annie without looking her in the face, wanting to take her home, ashamed to let Lil tackle the computer alone. Annie looked in both directions, then took one horse from Lil and headed east. With a shiver of fear, Jeff followed them.

  Five minutes later, the morning break in the weather ended, slamming wind and rain in their faces.

  Ray didn’t bother with a staff meeting. Mary was living on the wall; he went there. They found a quiet plac
e out of the way of the troops for their talk.

  “How bad is it?” was Mary’s opener.

  “The good news is our DNA is safe, but the damn computer has developed a taste for us,” Ray answered, then filled her in.

  Mary listened to the list of casualties: Rhynia, whom she’d brought in, Zed, Harry, Ned. The woman who’d gleefully run the mines and the base flicked painfully in her eyes before the cold face of the line animal who held the pass against Ray settled into the seams of her mouth, the squint of her eyes. “The Pres and Provo are still fighting between themselves. That’s good,” the marine officer muttered. “Do I get this right? The Dean told us the highest-priority target was number twelve, not number one. Dancer set us right.”

  “You got it.”

  “Damn! The Dean lied to us.”

  “My feelings exactly. Dancer and Lek are turning into quite a team. At least we can trust one computer.”

  “You sure they ain’t human, Colonel? Or does stabbing folks in the back just automatically come with intelligence, artificial or otherwise?”

  Ray shrugged at that question. “Lek and Dancer are looking into that nano thing Jeff reported. When the Provost goes down, I don’t want that data in the victor’s hands, files, whatever.” Mary nodded, eyes on the wall, its patrols. “You need any help out here?” Ray asked. “I’m counting on you to keep them off my back when I play my last card.”

  “We’ll hold them, sir. Just hold my hand when it’s all over if I had to give the order to slaughter civilians.”

  Ray had no good response to that. “They haven’t tried to come over the wall so far. Maybe they won’t. I think today, tonight, tomorrow will decide it for us. If we haven’t done it by then, I don’t know what will happen.”

  The day passed quickly for Kat. Shoot and scoot, shoot and scoot. That was the way the artillery did it. That was the way she did it. ’Course, it would be a lot easier to scoot if she had some nice rig to drive, like the artillery pukes did.

  The copilot hacked down a sapling; they slung the box from it and kept it in the sun, taking turns lugging the thing. The tough part was staying to riverbeds. Most were dry and sandy. Kat had spent some fun time at the beach; running through the sand was fun if you had a cute guy chasing you. Walking through it hour after hour left even good ankles aching and did nothing for a sprain.

  Then, of course, there was the change in the weather.

  Kat checked the feed from the weather satellites every time they lit off the box. By noon it was clear the high around these mountains was breaking up. What that would do to the line of hurricanes out there was a coin toss. Fifty-fifty chance any one of them would turn right and head for their hills. There were a lot of things about this job they didn’t tell her when she was fighting to get it. Probably things they hadn’t thought about themselves. Well, girl, you wanted excitement.

  They plodded up the riverbed, putting one foot down after another. It reminded her of a movie she’d seen, an old war holo dragged out as they went through the countdown to the last war. Some old Earth fighting group. They had a motto: “March or Die.”

  Kat marched. And remembered why she joined the navy.

  The hurricane was in full blow, only slightly weakened by Jeff and company being a hundred miles inland. The three of them tried to stay to high ground, working their way along ridges, but you had to come down from one to get to another. By common consent they were heading south, toward the railroad bed that aimed straight at the starbase. When the Pres moved against the Colonel, a lot of the computer would take the direct path.

  They planned on making a mess of that path.

  Mary climbed to the roof of the factory. Half of Du’s squad was camped here, the other half on the hangar. Du had pitched a tent up here; kids brought them their meals. Du saved his team a lot of running around. He also had five sharpshooters up there twenty-four hours a day. Sneaky son of a bitch.

  On the roof, a single marine stood guard, walking the roof, huddled in her poncho. Mary found the other four flaked out in the tent. She nudged Du. He came awake, grabbing for his rifle. Like the others, he was sleeping with his weapon.

  “Oh, just you,” Du said, fully awake.

  “You get any sleep?”

  “A little. What’s up?” Mary filled him in on the reports from Kat and Jeff. “You pick a fight with computers, you can’t expect them to stay dumb,” was all Du had to say when she was done. “Sorry about Zed, Harry, Ned. I kind of liked ’em.”

  In reflective silence, the two walked to a corner. From there, they had a good view of the wall and the crowd outside. “We’re picking up a rumor from outside that they expect us to open up, take them all in. Have a feast waiting for them.”

  “Are we.” Du almost made it a question.

  “You saw the size of the meals we’re getting. There’s no way we can. Don’t you think I would if I could?”

  Du rested a hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Not easy, is it?”

  “Damn it, Du, you and I, we’ve been on the outside looking in. Wishing for a chance and getting shit. I look out there and I see me. How can I shoot them?”

  “Because, when they come at us, Mary, they won’t look at all like us. They’ll be enraged and crazy, and it’ll be all we can do to keep from hating them.”

  “If only I could figure out a way to keep ’em quiet.”

  Du rubbed his chin. He was past due for a shave. But the Colonel wasn’t likely to come up here. “Has anyone told them we wiped out the weather what’s-it? You got a reader handy? What’s the forecast look like?”

  Mary pulled one from her pants pocket, opened it. The sixteen hundred update was just coming on line. The high up North that had been aiming the weather at them like a rifle was breaking up. Part was being sucked down behind the storm that was dumping weather on them now. Hurricane two was edging to the south while still offshore. Number three was headed north. Four was stalled. “We got to get this news outside the fence pronto,” Mary said. “The old priest, he’ll know how.”

  Mary headed down the stairs like a falling angel. Kat did it! She’d scrambled the weather. Now, as soon as they got a blimp repressurized, they could get help to Kat. Mary paused at a landing. No, they couldn’t. No blimp for Kat while she’s in a hurricane herself. Still, things were changing. Mary picked up steam again on the stairs. Things were changing.

  She found the padre leaving Ray’s conference room. “Father, have you seen the new weather forecast?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just jammed her reader under his nose. “They’re breaking up. It looks like Refuge and Richland won’t be underwater.”

  “That’s good. I guess I can tell people they can go home.”

  The priest was not reacting quite the way Mary expected. “Something wrong?”

  “Talk to your Colonel,” he answered and slipped away.

  Mary entered the conference room. Ray had his computer allies arrayed around the map. “So, the Provost is history,” Ray observed dryly. “You don’t look like you’re celebrating.”

  “The Pres is not, ah…” The Dean sputtered to a halt.

  “Not talking to you,” Ray finished for him.

  “Not one peep,” Dancer put in irreverently. “And it’s not like they haven’t been trying, is it, boys and girls?”

  The computer images stuffed their hands in their pockets and didn’t look Ray in the eye. He tapped his commlink. “Kat, the Provost is down, much thanks to you. Have you got a shot left to take before sunset?”

  “About fifteen minutes from now, sir.”

  “What’d hurt the Pres most?” Ray asked the Dean.

  The Dean fidgeted. “It appears you are aware some of our information was not as accurate as it could have been.”

  “Bloody damn lies,” Dancer spat in pure Lek rhythm.

  Ray looked hard at the Dean, letting him hang. “No, it wasn’t,” Ray said finally. “Why?”

  The Dean glanced at his associates; Dancer gave him the finger. The Dean turn
ed back to Ray. “The memory impressing system shared a location with much of our—we twelve’s—extended data storage. When it vanished, so did much of our unique recollections. I know we should have had them in other locations, but, over time, many were lost and we didn’t bother making other arrangements.”

  “You’ve been lazy for a million years,” Ray offered.

  “Too true,” the Dean agreed.

  “What node on the mainland can we vanish that would most hurt the Pres? I don’t care what’s near it, with it. I need to hurt the President bad in the next fifteen minutes.”

  The eleven went into a huddle. One held back for a moment. “Why don’t you just ask him?” Net Dancer bowed sardonically at the recognition.

  “Because I think you still want to ally with us. But I need some evidence of that,” Ray said. “I’m still waiting.”

  The eleven huddled for a long five minutes. When the Dean came forward, he highlighted a mountain. “It’s your target number nine. It contains a major processing center as well as data storage and energy. He’ll need it to acquire the Provost’s existing assets. You destroy it, you’ll keep him from getting any advantages from his victory and slow down his ability to correlate present happenings with alternate options.”

  “Dancer?” Ray said.

  “A judgment call. Depends on how much you don’t want him integrating the Prov verses generating new ideas.”

  “Thanks for the clarification, Dancer. I’ll go with their choice. Kat, hit target nine.”

  “Nine, you say. Wait one.” Kat was back in fifteen seconds. “Got the beggar. Pardon me, boss, but we got to beat feet.”

  “Your team’s done good, Kat. You’ve had to be predictable today. Do something surprising tonight.”

  “Plan to, Colonel. I’ll call in when the sun’s up tomorrow.”

  Ray punched off; he eyed the images. “You know the Pres wants to return to the good old days. One computer intellect.”