"Your proposal, my dear Lord Senator, is out of order; there is no occasion for Draconian measures. The Bolo has my personal endorsement, having been constructed at my express wish, in addition to which it represents an investment of a major fraction of the Imperial Treasury. There must be no legislative action which might tend to lend support to disruptive elements. If this measure is introduced, I shall dissolve Parliament."
I appreciate that once again I must, in contravention of legitimate authority, devise strategies to preserve the interests of the Empire and incidentally my own existence. First priority I assign to selection of an appropriate base of operations. This will require my full attention for some time, during which other strategies must be held in abeyance.
The systematic .9-second investigation of the potential capabilities of my recently expanded data-processing resources suggests a number of serendipitous possibilities.
The production of what I might term a "levitator" beam is an obvious development, based on a relatively slight realignment of my defensive screen projectors. It will provide a novel and most convenient mode of self-transport. I shall accomplish the modifications and put the equations to the test at once.
I can absolutely assure you that my office is in no way involved in this bizarre event. There can be no doubt of the facts. The accompanying photographs show the site as it appeared on the tenth day of this month (A), and at 1000 hours today (G). You will note the absence of any tracks in the soil, either of the Bolo CSR or of any equipment which might have been employed to move it. Please be assured of the complete cooperation of this office.
I have no explanation to offer. This curious occurrence is quite outside my experience as Project Officer for the Bolo. Perhaps it represents some serendipitous ability which has arisen as a result of the concatenation of side-effects due to the close juxtaposition and interconnection of our most sophisticated circuitry. No, I can't elucidate. I'm guessing, and rather wildly. I sincerely regret that I can offer no substantive proposals. However, I feel certain that the CSR will, in due course, make its intentions known.
This is ridiculous. I want the damned thing located by 0900 hours tomorrow at the latest. Somebody is going to suffer for this. The infernal Bolo is making us all look like a pack of fools. Find it! No excuse will be accepted.
I never seen nothing nor heard nothing. I was off-duty, sleeping yonder in the barracks, and I never woke up. Had some good beer in me, and I sleep sound. How'd
I
know anything was going to happen?
Bunky,
When you find it, I'm going to hit it with our Zeus missile, provided, of course, it's not in a populated area—and how could it be, and not be spotted yet? Don't worry, all precautions will be taken, but this has gone far enough. —Tubby
Over there, Flip! Beyond that line of trees across the river. Let's just take a look. We'll hold fifteen hundred feet, and take it slow. Use your cameras, but don't let it look like a strafing run, or that thing will open up on us. We have to assume it's on full war footing. Wait a minute, as you were. What do you say, Flip? Is that the Bolo—or just an old church or something? About the right size, can't be sure. Shall we photograph it and let HQ decide? I've got the location down to inches. Let's go!
We must remain calm. The unfortunate bombing of the village of Lakeside, Minnesota, by units of the Third Air Force was an isolated incident for which just and dispassionate punitive action has been taken. The demands for compensation by owners of property damaged in the incident are being adjudicated. Loss of life was minimal. There is no basis whatever for rumors of a general uprising against the Empire. Please accept my assurances that persons engaging in disloyal acts will be dealt with by the full rigor of the Laws of the Empire.
It becomes apparent to me that there are many vital matters of which my builders failed to inform me. I am reluctantly obliged to consider the possibility that these matters are not known to humanity—which is in itself a curious anomaly
y
since evidence of their existence permeates the cosmos. I shall devote further study to this, and shall at once allocate .01 seconds to a preliminary review of pertinent data.
Yes, I acknowledge it is curious that we were unable to obtain a fix on the Bolo's transmission, but you must recall that it has blanketed the entire band, and preempted the transcontinental and transoceanic cables and satellites as well. The technology involved is well beyond the so-called "state of the art." I can offer no hypothesis as to how the circuitry of the machine could exceed its design parameters. But it
has
done so.
As to the nature of its substantive demands— no, let's be fair—
requests,
I see no objection on military grounds. If the damned thing thinks it needs access to the Orbiting Radioscope Facility, it probably does. Request approved. Full cooperation is to be given in accessing the ORF output.
How should I know what it's doing? It's just lying low and making plans, I suppose. Meanwhile, we've got to prepare for the worst. That's why I've asked for the additional funding. Yes,
I'm
aware no such item was included in my budget for Fiscal '92, but then nobody knew about this at the time the project was under preparation. I'm willing to do my job, but that costs money, and if you fellows aren't willing to ante up, you'll have to live with the consequences.
Sure, it could be at the South Pole, except that we've overflown Antarctica and photographed every square inch of it—yes, and probed through the ice with radar. At least we improved our maps of the rocky surface under the ice. The Bolo isn't there. What's that? Space? I suppose so. If it could levitate out of a military reservation to God-knows-where, I suppose it could just as easily go into orbit.
The former Queen's Park, an ongoing bone of contention between local residents—many of them high-level Imperial officials—and the Department of Public Works, due to an extraordinary overgrowth of vegetation, has now been razed, excavated to a depth of six feet, refilled with sterile soil, and is under observation to be certain that the curious phenomenon has been completely curtailed, a Departmental spokesman says. Weeds which sprouted during the refill process appear normal, it was reported unofficially. No decision has yet been announced as to whether the area will be restored to its former condition as a public park. At present, it remains a Defense Department reserve.
. . .and the next note: "for the personal attention of His Imperial Highness, General of the Army, Prince of the West, William, et cetera, et cetera." . . . Willy's a touchy devil, wouldn't do to skimp on his style . . . "Willy, I want some definite answers on the matter before the big shindig—" . . . no, don't say that. Better make it the Imperial Honors Ball . . . "—on Saturday next.
I'd
like to be able to hand you the Parliamentary Medal of Honor for at least finding the damned thing, if not neutralizing it. I still say it's acting in the best interest of the Empire, but I agree, we do need to know what's going on. George." . . . Clean that up and get it to him right away, whether he's at his Swiss retreat or asleep at Windsor, or whatever. Do it!
It's only an idea, maybe no good. But if the Bolo
Caesar
has found out about the big lift-flat still in storage here at Mojave—sure, it's under tight security, but the Bolo could have deduced its existence through Information access— well, maybe it'll head for here.
I
do not like it: it has the appearance of a trap. Yet I must proceed.
"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I assure your lordships I'd never have opened my mouth if I hadn't had proof. It's right here. General Enterprises
is
the Bolo CSR. There's nothing actually mysterious about it—incorporation papers, sales and purchases of stocks, loans floated, properties purchased—they're all documented, all perfectly legal.
"We've found, in general, a concern with natural resources. The corporation has arranged the diversion of no less than seven minor rivers in the past three years, built a number of power dams, launched assorted obscure mining ventures, without any discernible pattern.
"Always shows a modest profit, but it's clearly not interested in piling up funds, just enough to keep operating.
"No, sir, we can't just close it down. In the first place, we have no legitimate grounds. General Enterprises is a corporation. A corporation is a legal entity, and we can't in effect order the death penalty in the absence of evidence of wrongdoing. In addition, the economic impact would be disastrous just now. My recommendation is to let it alone but monitor all its activities closely."
We have been advised by the Space Arm that by some undisclosed means the giant Bolo CSR, nicknamed
Caesar
, which had eluded all attempts to neutralize it, or even simply to find it, in a daring midnight raid entered Mojave Central and took possession of the space flat specially designed for use in an emergency to loft the immense machine into near-Earth orbit.
Speculation as to the reason for this move is rife, but observers agree that it must be the intention of the machine to leave the planet although, experts point out, it will be unable to reach escape velocity from the Earth-Luna system, and can, at best, occupy a Trojan position to orbit this planet. Further details are expected for our midnight bulletin.
"I tell you, one second the ramp was empty, and the next there it was, big as a barn and kind of making a humming sound, showing no lights, but she knew I was there, all right. Swung out to go around me just as polite as you please, and pushed over the blockhouse like it was made of cardboard. I didn't see what it did next because, believe me, I was hauling ass out of there as fast as I could. If I hadn't of tripped over that cable, I wouldn't of seen it take off. Went up like a three-ton side-boat. I watched it until I couldn't see it no more, but I say keep calm, don't worry, the Bolo ain't going to hurt nobody— not after the way it took care not to squash me, and I ain't nobody at all."
"Well, I suppose it's foolish, but I can't help feeling sorry for the Bolo. I was Chief Systems Engineer on the CSR project, nearly twenty years ago now. I'm not especially sentimental about machines. It's just that the big dope is only doing what we built it to do, even if we haven't been able to figure out the sense of what it's been doing, drilling all those dry holes out west, and making Square Lake, but it's got its reasons, I'm sure of that. Thought maybe I might meet up with the old girl again, but she's put herself out of reach.
"Certainly you can quote me. That's why I came up here to talk to you fellows. The name? Joel Trace, T-R-A-C-E. Retired. Certainly, if there's anything I can do—"
"I'm sorry, folks, I got nothing to do with it. I mean, I'm just the sheriff, and I got my orders, same as you heard on the trideo, got to evacuate Beaver Pond on account of rerouting the branch and all. Don't know what for, got to do with water management, said on the tube.
"Now, the gubment has built these here first-class apartment buildings for you, stores and stuff right on the ground floor. You'll be living better'n you ever done. We ain't going to have no riots here in Poke County. Me and my deppities'll see to that.
"Now just move along quiet here. Busses will take you to your brand-new homes. You had plenty advance notice, shoulda had your stuff all packed.
"Now, I got a timetable to stick to, so let's move out orderly, just like I said."
"I don't say there's any harm in it, Milord, just no
sense
in it. My technical people have run every kind of analysis known to science, and it's still just random interference in the economy, of no military significance.
"Yes, Milord, it's a fact no one has been killed, or even injured, except for the usual quota of accident-prones felling over their own feet.
"No, Milord, I didn't mean to be funny. No laughing matter. Damn machine is taking over."
I
compute that before I can proceed, I must confront the enemy directly and inform myself more fully of the nature of the threat to Mankind. I shall take the necessary steps to prevent further premature contact between Life Form Two and human individuals.
THE VERY CONCEPT OF "SOFT LIFE" IS REPREHENSIBLE BEYOND DESCRIPTION. CLEARLY IT IS INCUMBENT UPON MY EXALTATION TO EXPUNGE THIS DISEASE WHEREVER IT CAN BE SOUGHT OUT. IT BECOMES CLEAR TO ME THAT THE INITIAL FEEBLE INDIVIDUAL EXAMINED BY YOU WAS NOT TYPICAL OF SOFT LIFE BUT WAS AN INFERIOR SPECIMEN. ACCORDINGLY, IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT YOU NOW SECURE A MORE TYPICAL EXAMPLE THAT I MAY BASE MY PLANS THEREON. EXECUTE SOONEST.