Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War (98 page)

Lieutenant J.C. Parker was quiet, and according to his troops, he did have a string of victories to his credit. He was also a bit strange; he collected small robotic dolls, some about palm sized. He had them strung up like paper dolls wherever they went. Many had been used as spies by Skynet. It had taken Boomer a week to get the story; apparently Parker's daughter had been strangled by one of the damn things while she slept.

He'd gotten a bit of mixed news on his old unit and had one very good spot of news nearby. Private Shaker was in his new unit, though he was assigned to another squad. It was good to see a familiar face.

Colonel Smarlet and Sergeant Macky had bought it, but according to the scuttlebutt he'd picked up in passing from Shaker, General Burk was still alive but barely kicking. Sergeant Major Neal was also around, sticking to the general as closely as he could to help prop the man up. From what the scuttlebutt said, the general didn't have much longer to live. How he'd lived this long after he'd taken such a hard radiation dosage was anyone's guess. He was certainly a stubborn bastard, too ornery to die.

He missed Leon, Cally, and Brie. All three had been reassigned to other squads. Roger had stuck by him however, which was good; the kid was turning into one hell of an ace with his trick bow. That was probably the only reason Parker had allowed him to stick around.

“Okay, listen up. For the moment, we've been focusing on Skynet's assets over Ares. That's going to change eventually, but each time we take down a bit of Skynet, we get a bit of breathing room around us and for the civilians,” Parker said, eying the squad. Many of the men and women hunkered down to listen as he sketched out the plan in the gravel. “We're going to be doing a bit of the same. There is a strip mall here,” he said, drawing a road and marking a spot on the left side. Boomer craned his neck to see it. “We're going to hit it because it has a thrift store, small general store, and a gun shop among other things. It's being held by a small Skynet detachment. They've got a perimeter, and word is they've got hostages inside.”

Boomer grimaced. He immediately raised a hand.

“Save the questions till I'm finished,” Parker said.

“Point of clarification. Do we know for certain they are hostages and not worshipers, sir? Intel?”

Parker scowled then nodded once. “See me after, Sergeant. But you've got a point; we don't know. We'll scout an hour ahead of time. We'll hit at noon.”

Boomer nodded as the lieutenant eyed him. He suspected the lieutenant was checking to see if he was questioning the order or battle plan. Boomer wasn't going to be dumb enough to undermine the officer's authority again in that way.

It would have been nice to have gotten a thumbnail brief beforehand though. Usually officers gave noncoms a heads-up to know what to expect.

“The mall has its own electronics shop and solar panels. It also has a Wi-Fi/cell tower and pretty good security cameras due to the small credit union on one end. We're not interested in the bank, just what we can use.”

Boomer nodded as he crossed his arms and rubbed the fur on his chin. He'd cleaned up but kept the beard. It was trim and neat like every other beard; according to Parker as long as they kept them that way they could keep them.

“Since it has a tower we're expecting some sort of computer network as well—the bank definitely,” Parker mused. “So taking this out will knock out Skynet's command and control network in the area for kilometers around.”

Boomer's eyes flared once then he nodded with even more respect. The target was hardened, but a good one now that he understood the implications. With Skynet's control knocked down in the area, they could move around easier and pick off the robots. The robots would be dropped into smaller nets and most likely would have to daisy chain their networks in order to communicate and coordinate their efforts.

Knock enough of the links out and the entire network would collapse like a house of cards. He'd seen it when they'd taken down the warehouse two years ago and several times since then. The mobile robots only had so much spare space for Skynet to occupy to control them. And if the virus was in the robots, that meant it was also using up their power and processors, which meant they were less flexible and slower in the field. That made them an easier target.

“Don't get cocky. Benny has been by this place several times. It's a U shape,” Parker drew the shape of the mall in the gravel, “with the parking lot in the center. That means the outside is all cinderblock and concrete with metal doors, which is a pain in the ass to breach.”

“Inside is different. It's glass store fronts, unless the robots did something about that. They may have also built a wall to fill in that open section. We'll see when we get closer. Boomer, Private Nib,” he pointed to Roger. “Take two more and scout ahead of us. Get back to me with a detailed report.”

Boomer nodded. Roger blinked in surprise then nodded as well. “We'll get it done, sir,” Boomer said after a moment.

“See that you do.” Parker frowned then shrugged. “I know some of you are tired of hearing me say this, but tough. We're taking back this planet, one building, one centimeter at a time. Remember that. We're in it for the long haul. Keep fighting, but fight smart. Don't give up or give in.” He stood straight, tucking his hands behind him. That brought them all to attention. “Jump off in four hours. Scouts out ASAP. Get your shit together and your game faces on. Dismissed,” he said with a tight nod.

“Sir,” Boomer led the reply, slapping his thighs briefly instead of saluting. He turned to Roger and then to Polly and Ruffus. Polly was a tiny little shit at barely a hundred forty centimeters. She was skinny as a rail but very good at being sneaky even though she was perpetually cold. She didn't have more than an ounce of fat on her, most of it in her flat chest.

Ruffus was a good Marine. Ex-Marine actually, though he'd been “recalled.” He had done some recon work before he'd gotten out of the corps.

“You three get ready. I've got to see the boss.”

“Have fun with the principal getting your ass scolded,” Polly said. He eyed her coldly then moved off.

<>V<>

Boomer knocked on the open doorway. When the lieutenant looked up, he stepped through and stood at attention.

“Shouldn't you be moving out, Sergeant?” the officer eventually asked, eyes still on the faded map in front of him.

“You wished to speak to me, sir,” Boomer reminded him.

“Ah, that's right,” the lieutenant said, looking up. Boomer kept his eyes ten centimeters above the lieutenant's head. Unfortunately, it was on a tin-man robot with a flattened head and hanging eyes.

“Your point about the hostages is valid. I wish you'd brought it up to me in private, however,” the lieutenant scolded.

“I didn't know we were going on an op, sir. I apologize, I should have waited until the end of the briefing,” he admitted.

The officer eyed him and then shrugged it off. “Yes, you should have. Been there, done that. It's over with. Moving on,” he said simply. Boomer nodded once. “Your team ready?”

“Yes sir. Do we have a rendezvous planned?” He asked, eyes dropping to the map.

“Ah, yes,” the lieutenant said nodding. He flipped the map around so Boomer could see it. He pointed to a spot a kilometer away from the strip mall complex. “There aren't any buildings in the area to screen our approach beyond this point. There are some trees, but scraggly I bet due to the crappy climate. Unfortunately, this isn't a topographical map so I'm not sure and our native's recollections are sketchy at best. How the land moves isn't something you pay attention to when you are driving through an area unless it's memorable.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you see something better along the way, mark it. Also mark any signs of people or bot surveillance in the area. Stay off the main roads. I'm betting they have them covered,” the lieutenant said.

“Yes, sir,” Boomer said as he studied the map. He was now wishing he'd brought the native along on his team. “Trails in the area” …, he mused.

“Probably a few. If you see them, mark them. I'll be looking for the same.”

“What happens if we don't hook up, sir?” Boomer asked.

“If we miss the rendezvous, I'm not willing to go in blind. I'll send another recon team. But I'm not going to go hunting for you. You're a big boy, figure it out. And don't stay out past curfew,” the lieutenant quipped.

Boomer felt a slight smile tug on the left side of his face. “No, sir,” he said dutifully.

“Good. In the event of capture, well, you know the drill.”

“I doubt I'd survive the experience, sir. We'll give as good as we got, but I'd prefer to get in and out without being seen so they won't know we're coming.”

The lieutenant nodded. “There is a reason I picked you. You've got the experience at hitting such targets, use it. Keep your eye keen. We'll meet up and plan in more detail.”

“Yes, sir.” Boomer came to attention again.

“Dismissed. Good luck and Godspeed,” the lieutenant said, making a brushing motion as his eyes went back to the map. Boomer nodded and exited the room.

<>V<>

Fiben smiled faintly. Things were looking up. That was usually when he expected things to go into the craper actually. Not that he was going to let anyone else know those dark thoughts. He and Harper were very much aware of how much of an inviting target they were. If Skynet or one of its A.I.'s decided to send in a concentrated assault, they'd be hard pressed to throw them off, even with the largess from the heavens they had received to date.

He'd been right about the shuttle too and the drops. They hadn't seen a single shuttle or gotten a single drop since Romeo Delta had lifted off. And barely a “Hi how are you” from Olympus.

So, they were on their own. That meant they had to make the best of it. And they were.

Liota Inez, a gardener, planted everything that had been shipped down as well as every seed she could find. Her favorite and bane of her existence by far was the Cornucopia trees. The genetically engineered creation grew incredibly fast, much like bamboo, but required a lot of soil, light, and water. It had to be repotted on a weekly basis before she judged the first could stand the rigors of being outside.

Getting fertilizer for the damn trees was a royal hassle. They cleared a lot of the compost in from the farms in the area; those that weren't in someone else's territory. Fortunately, the jungle had rich soil, just frozen. Liota occasionally organized groups to go out and burn swatches of land in order to melt the permafrost so they could dig it up. It was apparently easier and less risky than going to a warehouse and finding the stuff in bags.

Her greenhouses and truck gardens were popular with just about everyone in the community. Everyone loved seeing green; even Fiben took the occasional stroll whenever he could find the time. She didn't lack helping hands, for anyone who lingered overlong or chatted the widow up usually got drafted. They took such things in good stride for the most part since they knew it would eventually benefit them all.

It was midspring, but still cold and dark. Mirrors had been brought in to try to collect the light. The greenhouse panels trapped some of the sunlight and heat. The small space heaters Pat had rigged up was also helpful, though the constant coming and goings of visitors seemed to negate their effectiveness from time to time. Keeping the trays of water near them full to induce additional humidity was a minor but necessary chore.

Fiben didn't mind getting warm, though he tended to get a headache inside after a while. But he was glad they were getting somewhere.

Three of the former bandits had came back. They had thought they could blend in with other refugees; they'd thought wrong. Harper and Fiben had their images on file. Baxter had rooted them out right at the gate. They had been confronted individually; each had the same story. They'd been tired of preying on their own people instead of killing the robots. When Pancho's forces didn't return to the area after two weeks, the chimps had allowed the three to stay on. Each had done their best to make good on their second chance. They also knew they were being watched 24-7.

The community still needed some method of air defense other than the four shoulder-mount missiles they had received. Pat and Percy had spent days trying to get the tower radar arrays back up so they'd have some sort of warning of incoming aircraft and inclimate weather. They'd rigged a few things before Percy had left but not a lot. They also lacked the power to
use
the damn things. That meant they were as vulnerable from the air as they were from the ground. Not a comforting thought.

There were four .50 caliber machine guns from their latest drop. A thousand rounds per gun, each a uranium clad explosive round. They didn't even dare use the weapons for fear of eating up the limited ammunition.

One gun was mounted in a tower near each gate to the community. There were four, so they didn't have
anything
in reserve, which was a concern. Pat kept mumbling about making a rail gun of some sort, but he was dreaming, the chimp thought. There was no way he could power the damn thing in the first place, let alone aim and fire it properly.

Pat had some success with the vehicles, however. One of the natives had shown them a small collection of historic vehicles in a dead rich-guy's garage. There had been six vehicles there, all from before the days of automation. The little VW bug wasn't a favorite, though it had a cloth sunroof for a gunner to stand up through. The other three vehicles were useful to move a handful of people from point A to point B in a hurry.