I’ve got to get in there, Winger told himself. The doorway was still shielded; a quick touch produced a needle-sharp sting to his fingers and an angry ripple in the barrier bot shield.
“What about the HERF, Major?” It was Reaves. “Fry ‘em with rf, then big-bang our way in. Always worked in the war games before.”
Winger had to admit she was right. “Charge up the batteries, Sheila. But once we slam ‘em, I’m driving ANAD myself.”
Reaves and Singh brought up the radio frequency pulse weapons and sighted them in on the door.
“ANAD,” Winger told his own protective assembler swarm, “go to Config One and give me control of the master. I’m piloting this assault.”
***Base…altering configuration to state number one…is this a good idea, Base? These barrier bots are all effectors…they replicate fast. At close quarters, ANAD may not be able to counter in time. More data is needed--***
“No time, ANAD. I know what I’m doing. Sheila, on my mark—“
“Charging now, Skipper.” Reaves and Singh initialized the charging sequence. The HERF guns hummed with barely contained energy.
Winger toggled into pilot mode on his own wristpad and let the nanoscale world of atoms and molecules and Brownian motion wash over him. It was like careening out of control down a waterfall, but the sensation subsided in a few seconds.
No doubt about it, combat at the scale of atoms was a different ball game. Every atomgrabber had his own routine for preparing for the transition from one world to another.
“Now…Sheila! Hit ‘em now! Hit ‘em hard and fast.”
The HERF batteries discharged.
The first image he had was that of plowing through heavy surf on some spray-washed beach in a stiff wind. But after years of grabbing atoms and diving in and out of ANAD’s world, Johnny Winger knew how to adjust quickly.
He tweaked his propulsors and jetted ahead, fighting currents and bumping through the cascade of molecules that sleeted past him.
Let’s get full effectors out, he decided. This latest ANAD had extensible fullerene ‘hooks’ for better grasping plus a stiffer diamondoid base with more reactive bond ends…the better to stick to whatever he wanted to examine. The Lab’s engineers had really been tinkering under the hood and Winger was glad of it.
The ANAD master responded like a champ, deploying grabbers, extractors, hydrogen probes and bond disrupters quickly. Now bristling with his full complement of tools and weapons, he sounded ahead to get his bearings.
Through the heavy ‘rain’ of jostling molecules, still recovering from the HERF blast, Winger sensed unusual structures ahead. A thermal bloom of assembler activity lit up his viewer and he cut propulsors to reconnoiter the target.
Could be more defensive bots, he surmised. It was reasonable to expect a tighter screen around the big device in the center of the room. He shifted his approach heading, trying to hide behind a clump of oxygens, then scooted past a gust of phosphorus molecules as he tacked against the prevailing current. I’ll put the scope on ‘em.
Dead ahead, an array of assembler bots had formed a defense line and was quickly closing the gap. Winger swallowed hard as the first acoustic image of the mechs settled into view.
Each assembler was shaped like a squat barbell, with top and bottom spheres of pulsating molecule groups bristling with effectors of every conceivable shape and type. The connecting columns were themselves multi-stranded chains of peptides, able to extend and contract the whole structure with lightning speed. The barbells rotated in unison, whirling like tiny motors. Whiplike propulsors churned at either end, lending the bot matchless maneuverability.
Fantastic engineering, Winger realized. Quantum Corps had nothing like it. But before he could probe further for more details, the entire defensive line had whipped forward, almost as a single unit, and enveloped ANAD and its replicant swarm without warning.
Before Winger could even react, he got warnings left and right on his coupler circuit:
***Carbene effectors disabled***
***Hydrogen abstractors disabled***
***Port propulsor disabled***
“I’m losing control!” he told himself. ANAD’s response was sluggish and he soon realized why.
All along the line of engagement, the enemy bots had unraveled their multi-stranded peptides and wrapped themselves tightly around each ANAD assembler, hugging the assemblers with arms of collapsing molecules.
Soon the entire line was a tangled snare of peptide chains, like balls of twine hopelessly knotted together.
Time to get ANAD some help, Winger decided. He opened another coupler channel.
“ANAD master to Detachment…Reaves, Singh…anybody…get your swarms going! Get into pilot mode and get down here with me…”
He did what he could, trying every trick he could think of…first was to fire off the bond disrupters…see if I can zap these buggers off me…
He salvoed ANAD’s full array of disrupters, lighting up the tangle of thrashing molecule chains…again and again. Each jolt tore through tight covalent bonds in the enemy’s peptide chains, liberating thousands of electron volts but to no effect. If anything, the chains re-assembled even tighter, slowly crushing each ANAD assembler.
Winger gritted his teeth. If at first you don’t succeed… Next tactic was to try and slash his way out…he rammed his pyridine probes to full out, quickly re-configging the buckyball ends to something a little more deadly…an undulating knots of really reactive oxygens. With his new ‘swords’ thus in place, he revved ANAD’s propulsors to get some spin going, and tried slashing and cutting and flailing his way through the seaweed-like chains of enemy peptides.
The effect was even worse. Each time an enemy bot had its chain severed, it replicated a new one before Winger could maneuver ANAD through the opening. It was like hacking through a jungle thick with vine, only the vine grew back faster than you could cut it back.
Winger was getting frustrated. He thought briefly about executing a quantum collapse, but that was a desperation tactic, a retreat and besides, they had to know what the hell they were dealing with here inside Shavindra.
He’d save the quantum maneuver for later, if he needed it.
Still thrashing and hacking at the enemy bots, Winger caught a glimpse of some thermals on his scope…familiar blooms growing fast.
It was the cavalry.
His coupler circuit crackled. “Skipper, it’s Reaves, with Mighty Mite and Deeno on my flanks. We’re on max propulsor…sensing you’re stuck inside all that garbage up ahead—“
Winger was glad for the help. He knew perfectly well that the real nanotroopers were crouching near him on the floor of the temple inner chamber, while the ANAD swarms approaching were being remotely piloted. But all the same, it was like having his Detachment right with him even on this godforsaken molecular battlefield.
“Reaves, you and Deeno see if you can out replicate these buggers…big-bang if you have to. Barnes, close from your side and try to draw off some of this swarm.”
As the battlefield churned and heated up with max ANAD replication, Mighty Mite Barnes closed the distance, piloting her own ANAD swarm like a miniscule battalion, wading right into the middle of the fray.
“I’m going bang,” Reaves told him. She triggered off a max rate replication with her own swarm, churning the air with furious atom-grabbing. Deeno D’Nunzio did the same. Soon, the air around the chamber burned supernova hot as assemblers copied themselves and built structure like frantic brickmasons.
I hope this works, Winger thought. He was running out of tactical options fast.
The tactic was a basic ANAD operation: try to out-replicate the enemy and overwhelm him with sheer mass. With any luck, the Shavindra bots would soon find themselves smothered and unable to react fast enough to ANAD’s exponential attack.
Winger tried flexing his effectors and detected a slight loosening.
Maybe
if I just fold up my outer pyridines…retract the buckyball ends…I can—
He tried it and was able to squirm free of the enemy bots’ grasp. Spinning up propulsors, he shot free of captivity…only to run into another knot of mechs. Winger flexed and thrashed his effectors but it was no use.
Shavindra bots were more maneuverable, quicker than ANAD.
“Sheila…it’s not working…I’m stuck in a bog of mechs here….”
“That’s not all, Skipper. I’ve got big thermals nearby and they’re not nano. Take a look on your viewer.”
Winger switched away from ANAD mode and squinted at the view on his eyepiece. Through the flickering fog of nanoscale combat, he made out the outlines of the generator platform, still winking in and out of view with rhythmic pulses. Beyond the platform, faintly visible, were shadowy forms, moving forms.
Winger realized they had more company in the chamber, human company.
“Let’s try to grab one of those techs, Sheila. You got any MOB canisters left?”
“Affirmative, Skipper.” The DPS tech scuttled along the chamber floor around the left side of the quantum generator platform, to get a better angle. Sergeant Victor Klimuk shadowed her moves, to give covering fire.
A new pulse erupted from the generator, deafening the chamber. As the decoherence waves radiated outward, every structure in their path winked out of view, smeared like rain on a windshield, before the passing probability waves collapsed into material stability again.
“Here goes—“ Reaves muttered. She aimed the MOB launcher at a cluster of technicians and fired off several rounds. Instantly, the burst of nanomechs engulfed the enemy and slammed them to the chamber floor.
“Got ‘em!” Klimuk pumped a fist. “I’ll grab that short one in front…cover me!”
Klimuk managed to seize a struggling technician and drag him back toward their position. The MOB barrier was already squeezing hard and the tech’s screams and gasps were muted by the suffocating blanket of mechs steadily contracting, pinning him down into the cocoon.
He offered no resistance as Klimuk and Reaves secured the prisoner and half-dragged, half-carried him back toward the chamber door.
Winger dove back into the fray that still threatened ANAD. All about the chamber, a dense fog had settled in, a fog of exponentially replicating assemblers locked in combat. The fog flickered and crackled with trillions of volts of ruptured bonds as the mechs battled from one end of the chamber to another.
ANAD was still in a straitjacket, enveloped in enemy bots. Winger spun propulsors and flexed effectors but it was no use. Despite his own increasing mass, ANAD seemed trapped.
“ANAD, I can’t out-maneuver these buggers. And we can’t out-bang ‘em into submission. They counter everything I come up with.”
***ANAD recommends withdrawal, Base. Losing primary effector control…disrupters ineffective. Enzymatic knife and pyridine probes no longer operable. Replication failing…ANAD is being overwhelmed--***
Johnny Winger didn’t want to fall back on the quantum collapse—no good atom-grabber ever did—but he was rapidly losing control of his own swarm.
“Detachment, report in…status of swarm engagement. Can you hold out or outflank these bots?”
Kip Detrick came back first. “Major, my ANAD’s about shot. This bugger’s all over me…I can’t maneuver, can’t rep fast enough—“
“Me too, Skipper.” It was Sheila Reaves. “Effectors jammed…my core processor’s maxed out just trying to run the replication. Master’s shutting down…I’m about to be pulverized.”
Then came Taj’s voice, a little more strained than usual for the Punjabi DPS tech. “Major Winger, my swarm disintegrates right in front of me. Whatever these bots are, they’re meaner and faster than my guys.”
That settles it, Winger thought. We can’t fight these bastards with what we’ve got. It galled him to admit that, but the safety of the Detachment was always paramount. And that included the integrity of the ANAD master assembler.
The quantum wave generator would have to wait. “Secure the prisoner,” he ordered. “Let’s disengage and get the hell out of here before we’re eaten alive. Retract swarms to personal defense mode. Anybody have a chance to corral one of these bots, grab it. Table Top’s eggheads will want something to analyze.” And General Kraft would definitely want something to explain why we couldn’t shutdown this facility, he muttered to himself.
The flickering fog began to subside as the two nanoscale armies separated. The remnants of the ANAD swarms were designed to commit atomic seppuku before they could be overrun. Only the ANAD masters would be recovered.
One by one, the nanotroopers regained their master assemblers. The enemy bots pulled back too, perhaps sensing the engagement was over. That surprised Winger, who had figured Shavindra would continue the attack. Whoever or whatever was controlling the swarm had enough tactical smarts to save itself for another day.
Reaves lifted a coilgun and sighted it at the platform. “Skipper, I could blast that mother to kingdom come with one good shot. I’ve still got a few rounds left. Give the word, sir and I’ll make that generator atom fluff.”
“Disengage, soldier. Remember, Sheila…it’s a quantum device. What you’re blasting might only be one of many states the machine could be in. You could blast this one and a thousand more could collapse into being in other places. We’ve got to be smart about this.” He remembered dueling with Red Hammer’s Sphere at the Paryang monastery a few years before. It too was a quantum machine…you could never be sure of what you had hit.
“Fall back to the big room!” Winger ordered.
In ragged order, the Detachment pulled back to the Hall of a Thousand Pillars, regained their loose gear and exited the temple. Outside in bright, humid sunshine, Winger counted off the troops, while the crewtracs loaded up equipment and took the temple technician into custody.
“Turbo’s still at the bridge,” said Mighty Mite Barnes. “Spite too, with that BioShield squad.”
Winger remembered. “Get them on tacnet. See what’s shaking…maybe we can give them a hand.” He was already composing his after-action report in his mind…ANAD swarms engaged protective nanobotic disassemblers at the Shavindra temple complex outside Kolkata…got our asses kicked but good and were unable to fully penetrate far enough to disable the quantum generator at the center of the temple…Detachment suffered minor casualties but combat conditions around the temple made continuing the engagement risky…too many matter engines going off all over the city…fabs out of control…the whole place was chaos….
Winger stopped, realizing Barnes had been talking to him. “Yeah, Mite…what is it?”
Barnes seemed to understand…the Detachment was exhausted. “Sorry, sir…you look like hell, begging the Major’s pardon. I was saying Kano’s bringing Turbo and Spite over in their crewtrac. BioShield’s gotten on top of the problem at Howrath bridge. He says ‘thanks’ for the support. BioShield can mop up the rest of the loose fab bots in this district.”
“Good,” Winger said. “Thanks.” Now at least he had something positive for the after-action report. General Kraft liked positive.
“We going back to Table Top, Skipper?” Barnes wiped sweaty black wisps of hair from her forehead. She safed her coilgun and slung it over her shoulder.
Winger was still mentally fighting the Shavindra bots with ANAD. “There has to be a way to get past those bots. What am I forgetting?”
“Maybe it’s in the processor,” she suggested. “Those buggers were all effectors, fast as lightning. Maybe ANAD needs to be souped up to deal with these characters.”
“Probably,” Winger agreed. He watched the loadout of the crewtracs for a few moments, ticking off everything and everyone going aboard. He didn’t want to leave any Quantum Corps stuff lying around for unscrupulous fab pirates to grab and make use of.
“Here comes Turbo and Spite,” someone said.
From the ornate lion’s head gates to the temple, a snorting crewtrac clanked and rumbled up toward them. Sergeants Adnan Fatah and Ray Spivey dismounted and came up, saluting Winger. They gave him a quick rundown of the BioShield operation. When they were done, Winger ordered the crewtracs buttoned up for the drive to Chandra Bose field.
“Move out!” he ordered from his commander’s station inside the lead vehicle. And step on it. We’ve got to get back to Table Top and figure out why the hell we can’t crack these barrier bots. That generator’s an important node in something and we’ve got to shut it down soon.”
He didn’t have to add that if they failed, Red Hammer had one big space rock the size of a small city they’d just love to drop on the Earth.
CHAPTER 3
“Give me a place to stand and with a lever, I will move the whole world”
Archimedes
SpaceGuard Center, Farside Observatory,
Korolev Crater, The Moon
September 10, 2080 (UT)
Nightfall at Korolev Crater came abruptly, too abruptly, thought Adam Bright. He stared out the porthole of the SpaceGuard Center and watched the shadows drop like a black curtain across the face of the crater wall. Korolev was a massive place, fully four hundred kilometers in diameter, with stairstep rim walls and a small chain of mountains inside. Like a bull’s eye on a target, the crater lay dead center in the rugged highlands of Farside, forever banished from the sight of Earth.
Adam Bright watched the black creep down the crater walls and ooze across the crater floor like a spreading stain. Somehow, it seemed depressing…another two weeks of night with only the stars for company. Cosmic grandeur, my ass, he muttered to himself. Give me a beach in the South Pacific and some native girls and I’ll tell you a thing or two about cosmic grandeur.
Bright was pulling late shift today…tonight…whatever the hell it was. Tending the radars and telescopes of Farside Array, a key node in the SpaceGuard System that scanned the heavens for anything approaching the Earth-Moon system, was a critical job, especially now that GreenMars had started moving rocks around and tossing them sunward.
That ought to be a spectacle, Bright thought. He’d seen the sims often enough, the ones GreenMars had put out for public consumption, the ones that showed asteroid 2351, better known as Wilks-Lucayo, barreling down the sun’s gravity well and smashing the bejeezus out of Mars. Impact was scheduled for less than a year from now and Bright and his fellow techs would have a ringside seat to a great show.
Johnny Winger and the Hellas Enigma Page 7
