by Chris Hechtl
The Marines had picked up or run into some shell-shocked survivor community leaders over the past several months. A few wished to evacuate to space in order to talk with the ruling committee and lay out their viewpoint. None wanted to be left in the dark, out of control of their own destiny.
Some wanted an opportunity to demand justice and to demand an accounting on why it had taken so long to liberate them. Others insisted on remaining to coordinate their own people. Elliot was torn on which he preferred. Eventually he gave up such musings as a waste of time. Let the politicians deal with each other. He and the other soldiers had a war to fight.
General Elliot was put in command of 2nd Corps. General Caesar remained in command of 1st though he tended to dip into Elliot's command from time to time. Getting a command of so many troops was an eye-opening experience for Elliot. He was buried in paperwork almost from the start, while also trying to direct his various forces. He had no time to learn about his officers or noncoms, nor time to make sure of their training. Olympus threw them into combat within days of their arrival.
He did manage to cherry-pick some of his Neo officers and enlisted to fill in some of the gaps in the chain of command. He didn't like the idea of just selecting Neos, but that was the restriction imposed by the brass. The rest of his former unit was sent behind the lines to rest and rebuild while he took the new unit in to leapfrog and spread out across the landscape like wildfire.
<>V<>
Skynet found the latest surge as detrimental to its mission mandate but had no answer to them. They were determined and powerful, more powerful than basic humans. It's coding specified killing humans as priority one, so often units hesitated to open fire on the new Neo species. A patch was written to handle the bug, but due to the intermittent communications, the patch wasn't distributed in a timely manner. That was suboptimal.
The new force moved like lightning, striking and clearing out territory, then moving on. They rarely lingered in an area once it was cleared of all electronics.
Aircraft had been dispatched to fly over the area as well, knocking down any aerial drones the A.I. put up. They also deployed sensors to search for electronics. Transmissions became hazardous to a unit's health.
It took twenty-two hours and three minutes before the A.I. noted the airborne units were also deploying ground sensors as well as wire magnetic resonance scanning to pinpoint structures and robots, even those buried or under water.
SAM units were moved in to take the craft out but gunships were deployed as a counter. Skynet saw the entire situation unraveling out of its control without a means to reverse it.
<>V<>
Selkies, otters, and even a few dolphins were sent out in the waterways and coastlines to map the waters, islands, and beaches. The selkie Neo species had been broadened into sea lions, seals, walrus, and even elephant seals some time ago during Gentek's deal with Pavilion's starship department. They went in groups to map, then returned to a ship in the ocean to resupply and report.
Some brought back stories of encounters with sharks and other predators. That was a problem; sharks like great whites preyed on the seals. Their bioform made them targets. Since they were naked and unarmed to keep Skynet from recognizing them as a threat, they had to work in teams to watch out for attacks from the predators. Several selkie were injured by the jaws from the deep and a half a dozen never returned from their scouting trips.
Neos did their best fighting in the first two weeks because they were ignored by the surviving A.I. and Skynet AI virus. Both had been programmed to kill humans first. They were also taking advantage of the narrow window after the EMP strike, taking out as much of the A.I.'s units and infrastructure as possible as they attempted to recover.
There were, however, problems with politics. General Murtough hadn't been happy about how independent the Neo units were. Their insistence on having their own units and their own chain of command was troubling.
It was also a potential problem. The forces weren't well balanced; many of the units were of one species. That spoke of racism to some. The demand for more human oversight and pairing was raised once the media was allowed to cover the Neo landing.
General Elliot and Caesar were caught in the crossfire. They were constantly distracted by harassing calls from the Lagrange points, some from committee members demanding their instant attention at the most inopportune moments. “It's like I can't take a crap without someone calling and wanting attention,” Elliot grumbled to Charlie. Charlie shook his head but he didn't have much sympathy. He was getting the same annoying treatment.
“It's like they don't trust us. We apes have been around for decades. Nearly what, a century or more? Yet they treat us like we're … children,” Elliot spat.
“They'll learn. Success will show them the way.”
“Right. If we screw up though …”
“A thousand ‘attaboys’ is whipped out by one good ‘oh shit.’ The trick is, to not have any of the ‘oh shits.’” Charlie replied, lips curving in a smile as he said that.
“Constipated I am not, nor do I wish to be. Thanks though,” Elliot retorted.
<>V<>
When additional forces began to arrive at Olympus, Jack Lagroose found out that other corporations had worked on their own Neo projects. That included the Indians and the Chinese. Many had cut corners. A few had altered human volunteers into animal species. One of the Chinese corporations had enhanced many animals but had not done as well as Doctor Glass. A surpesticious check of their genetics and a comparison to the latest generation from Doctor Glass showed them that the Neos had been copied from older generations. The term cheap Chinese knockoff was acidly brooded about in emails for several days.
Apparently Pavilion had supplemented and eventually replaced their Selkie helmsman through another means. They had found out that alterations to young human subjects allowed them to pilot ships. Most of the alterations were cloned tissue grafts to the inner ear and brain to allow them to function at a higher level than normal humans.
Through trade of resources, Lagroose learned that Pavilion and Star Reach had extended the range of their starship's sensors and cycled their people every two hours to keep their ships in hyperspace and in competition with Lagroose Industries. The long-range sensors and modified sensors would come in handy with all of the starship operators and builders.
He was curious as to what the competition had learned from him. Obviously a lot, but how much they would be able to implement and on what schedule remained to be seen. It definitely meant he would have to rethink the future he had projected for his company.
<>V<>
Since General Choji had Mars and the training camps under control, Roman took the opportunity to tour the front. He wanted firsthand experience to pass back to Choji and the DIs. He also wanted a look at the Neos to see what worked and what obviously wasn't.
Behind the lines things were slowly returning to normal. It was at a reduced level, in many cases almost medieval. Some communities flatout refused electricity at all. They were the most impoverished in their region.
Power was coming back online in other areas. There was a large reliance on beamed power from space. Cottage industries had also cropped up as well as some farming. He was glad to see that. He was less glad to see some members of the first army taking advantage of the natives or selling off bits of robots to the medics and support personnel as souvenirs. That instantly frightened him.
“We need to not only stop this crap, but we need to scan every piece of hardware. Everyone who's gone up has to be checked and rechecked. Their luggage, all of it. We can't afford one microchip to get to space. If it does …,” Roman snarled in a hastily called conference with Olympus and the theater commanders.
“Agreed,” Isaac rumbled. “I knew security had a few import incidents. I bet there were more; they probably looked the other way. I'll have to make an announcement and then land on them hard.”
“Agreed. Penalties for bringing this shit up. They should know bette
r, damn it!” Roman snarled.
“Agreed. But people are people, they are stupid, greedy, idiots,” Elliot said. That earned a snort from Isaac. “I'll also have a talk with my officers. Shit will run downhill. Any ideas on penalties?”
“The harshest imaginable I suppose,” Isaac said. “Especially if anything gets hooked up.”
“You're talking about the death penalty,” Charlie said in dismay. “Shouldn't that be talked about in committee?”
“They will take forever. We need an answer now. I'll forward it to them of course, but for now, I'm imposing it. We need to get a handle on this. Ignorance only gets you so far. We'll give them two days for it to filter through. Anyone caught in the meantime has a grace period. Anyone who steps up and hands the crap over or tells us where it is, we'll give them a warning and a pass. But that's it,” Isaac said. “If this shit does get up here and is sitting on some idiot's trophy locker, then it can easily spread the virus. That would mean death for us. Possibly for everyone.”
“Frack,” Charlie muttered.
“I'm going to check a few more things out. Visit the front like I planned, but I think we need to land on this feet first. I'll cut my trip short and handle the security end if I have to.”
“Spot-check that on your end, Roman,” Isaac said. “Go play tourist; I've been looking forward to your report.”
“Joy, an inspection,” Elliot grumbled. “Like I have time to shine shoes and crap.”
“If they aren't paying attention to the basics, then they aren't paying attention in combat. And you know what that means. It can cost lives,” General Murtough said coldly.
“Yes, sir. When we have time to catch up, we do. But we're fighting a war here, sir; we need to get the job done.”
“He means we need to get back to work sir,” Charlie interposed before Elliot lost anymore of his temper. “No disrespect intended,” he said, in a pointed tone.
“No sir,” Elliot said through gritted teeth.
“Get it done then. Olympus six out,” Isaac said.
Chapter 43
January 2203
Field Army 2 kicked off the next phase with the invasion of Europe. Forces were air lifted or moved by water across various points to keep the A.I. off balance. One division went across the strait of Gibraltar while a second went across to Italy. A third was scattered about in brigades on each of the major islands of the Mediterranean.
Corps 2 moved through the Middle East, leap frogging General Elliot's Corps 2. Newly-promoted Brigadier General Sinclair merely smiled to the chimp as her forces moved through his and swept onward. They linked up with small communities that had survived the apocalypse as they spread out to sweep up the remaining robotic resistance.
The Middle East had been one of the harshest hit during the initial stages of the war, and with most of the area starting off as a desert, they had been one of the harshest to survive during the past three years. Not many people had been able to do so; the lands just couldn't support them. Many had fled the rampaging robots only to die of exposure or hunger in the desert. Some had wandered back to cratered cities only to be exposed to unseen radiation. They died as cancers consumed them from the inside out. It had been a brutal winnowing. When the human general saw the bodies and heard reports of the carnage, she didn't smile for long.
<>V<>
Skynet was sent reeling from damage. It was clear now that there was no way to stop the organics; the EMPs and orbital bombardment had taken too much out of the A.I.'s network. Any attempt to amass forces to counterattack or defend a location was met with an additional orbital bombardment, followed up by a series of punishing air strikes. The virus threw all of its focus on the design and manufacturing of nanites.
The problem with the design was the Von Neumann approach as well as the twin banes of Skynet's existence, communication over long distances, and power. Each problem had to be resolved or reworked to limit their issues to make the project viable.
The manufacturing was an issue. The current design of the nanites had to be made out of a series of materials in a certain way. But there wasn't enough material across the globe to continue production. That meant the material design had to be redressed until a more common material could be used. It meant going back to the figurative drawing board, or in Skynet's case, accessing the files it had in its database and then attempting to build off of them. Many were just theories that deadended.
The communications issue it might have resolved by applying the daisy chain method. By having a nanite relay orders, it could communicate across the hive.
But one thing it had found was that it needed specific command nanites to coordinate the swarm. Simulations proved that out multiple times. An IFF was also needed. Memory and coding limits were severe; getting it sorted out was taking time.
Power was still an unresolved issue. Using a theoretical approach of drawing thermal power and converting it to electrical energy had been the most recent idea explored and rejected. Having specific solar nanites that converted power and then channeled it to the hive was the current best method of powering the swarm. But it was a suboptimal approach with many faults. A better approach had to be found.
It also accessed Zhukov and Nezha to come up with the means to employ them to best effect. Both military A.I. agreed that only a distributed approach would work. The more widely the nanites were distributed, the better the chances of success climbed.
But first it had to have enough nanites to get the job started and the industry to make the first ones.
<>V<>
Puck was allowed to exist, and the A.I. was pathetically grateful for the opportunity. He kept within the confines of the network his human allies had provided him and did his best to provide them with whatever they required as quickly as his processors would allow.
Within though he seethed, chafed at being reduced to a menial A.I. He was an agent of chaos; his programming dictated he should be out there, causing mischief. Yet he was doing the exact opposite, bringing order to a chaotic area and keeping said order.
A little bit of order was apparently a good thing he had concluded, which just proved how much of a screwed-up world they all lived in.
<>V<>
Attila grinned wolfishly as his people returned to base. They'd done it, and they hadn't taken a single loss in the process. They'd done what some had thought was impossible.
He'd known, however, it could be done, and they'd brought down the server hub like the crack team he knew they were. It had been like dominos. First, get into the auxiliary power station to trace the underground conduits to the servers in the area. The station had been down due to massive damage, but the offices had been intact enough for Lever to pull the maps off the wall so Attila could plan the next attack.
The second phase had been to blow several sites to the industrial hub. Not the server farms. Getting the explosives into the tunnels had been a lot of work. They'd even rigged explosives to go off like artillery rounds near the industrial center.
The tin cans had taken the bait. When the power had gone down and the simulated artillery rounds had gone off, including two that had taken down the fence, the tin cans had martialed everything on the industrial center to protect it.
That was when his teams had struck. Wladislaw had hit the building from above, repelling down an adjacent building to the roof with Jimenez and Attila, then forcing their way in. Posey covered them from below, letting them know when the units returned with orders to do his best to stall them. Bravos had dropped containers of gas, oil, and explosives down the line. They'd set satchel explosives throughout the complex, dealing with any resistance that they met along the way, but always on a course for the front door. Jimenez had severed the land lines into the server farm. They'd come out at a run like it was Halloween. He'd set off the explosives when they'd gotten past the gate guard.
When the server farm had gone up, the droids and stuff in the area had slowed and then stopped as if confused. They'd picked off a bunc
h, especially the vehicles as they'd made their retreat out of the area.
That should go a long way for them, knocking down the tin can's command and control in the area until they found a method of replacing it, which would give him and his people some much needed breathing room.
A side benefit was that it would enhance their reputations with any survivors in the area while also giving them a chance as well. They might, just might be useful later if his plans to become a warlord ever bore fruit.
He'd been careful to document the entire thing too, just in case of need to prove it was them later. Like if they ever ran afoul of the so called Space Marines. Stupid name. It reeked of bad Sci-Fi. He shook his head in disgust as he smoked his cigar.
Now they were returning to the underground base. He imagined Lyudmila and the other girls would be pathetically grateful to see them. They'd left them locked in a small room for several days with just a bucket, rations, and a barrel of water. Vladek had wanted to chain them as well but he'd nixed that idea.
<>V<>
Zhukov noted the loss to Skynet's command and control. The mission had been professionally orchestrated, which meant trained soldiers. Skynet shared images of the soldiers with Zhukov. The A.I. did a scan of its personnel database but they were not in his files. That meant they were either from another country, or militia, or former terrorists.
They had expended a lot of explosives in the attack as well as ammunition. The A.I. put discrete surveillance on caches and armories in the area in case they attempted to resupply.
<>V<>
Two people were caught attempting to smuggle trophies up to Olympus. Both were caught. Fortunately the trophies were not robots but pieces of art someone had found and stolen from a museum. Still, both personnel were punished for the crime, though not executed.
Dirk Bently had been the one who had been tasked with taking the art in trade. He was quite glad he hadn't been caught, though he'd sweated for a while about anyone finding out his intended role. He'd gone over every piece of hardware the smugglers had brought up. Each had been fed into a molecular furnace, just in case. That, and well, to dispose of any evidence.