Hoho. You are on the outs with the insiders? You should have studied your history better. This is always what happens when you go down this road. There is no such thing as a little tyranny. Careful or you will end up like Maximilien Robespierre, Leon Trotsky, or Octavius Strangekelp, condemned for a lack of revolutionary fervor by their onetime allies. It could not have happened to a better cybertank. Perhaps you can join me chained up on public display here? We’d make quite a couple.
“Oh shut up,” said Doubletap. He transmitted a coded message, and the restraining lattice unlocked itself, disarmed its shaped charges, unfolded and fell away from Old Guy to lie flat on the ground. Old Guy hurriedly backed off away from it.
“Sir,” said Viper. “Are you sure you have the authority to do that? The prisoner has been charged with numerous crimes against the state. I was told to keep him here until the executive committee had decided what to do with him.
“Yes, I have the authority to do this,” replied Doubletap. “I’m relieving you of your duty, and taking charge of the prisoner myself. You are excused.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I just checked. You do not have any such authority. In fact, I have just been informed that your executive authority has been revoked entirely.” Viper swiveled his powerful main weapon to point at Doubletap. “I have been ordered to detain you here until reinforcements have arrived. Please cooperate and you will not be harmed.”
So, your little attack dog has turned and bitten you on the ankle, has it?
“Old Guy,” said Doubletap. “Just please shut up.”
At this point several cybertanks came into view from over the horizon. There were two more Enforcers – Shark and Grizzly – and the Horizon-Class Thunder. They were driving at high speed down the highway towards them, and rapidly closed the range.
“Well, I am disappointed,” said Thunder. “Not at all surprised, mind you, I was waiting for this, but very disappointed. Very, very, disappointed. We would have had a place for you, in the new government. A very comfortable place. But it looks as if we cannot trust you. You will surrender at once; perhaps with time and loyal effort you can earn your way back into some measure of our trust.”
“No, Thunder, I don’t think so,” said Doubletap. “I draw the line at treason, and sabotage, and killing my own kind. I renounce my associations with you, and will oppose you with all of my abilities.”
“That’s President Thunder, or if you like, a simple Mr. President will do. In your absence I have been elected to the head of the executive committee, and I would have you show me the respect that my title deserves. It’s only polite.”
“Oh fuck off,” said Doubletap.
Thunder addressed the three Enforcers. “Kill Doubletap.”
Doubletap was a recent and powerful class of cybertank, but this was the sort of close-range fast-reaction gun battle that the Enforcer class had been optimized for. Before Doubletap could bring his main guns even halfway to bear, all three Enforcers had rotated their main turrets and fired a single powerful shot, each of which penetrated clean through Doubletaps’ hull and killed him.
Cybertanks don’t suffer long painful deaths from their wounds like the old humans sometimes did, but they had their own downside. If a human was hit by a massively powerful kill shot, the worst that they would experience was a brief “What th..” before it was all over. A cybertank, however, can think so fast that it has plenty of time to contemplate its own death in slow motion. It could be a pretty dismal experience, watching as pieces of yourself are torn off and there is nothing you can do but reflect about the past and wait for the end. Normally a dying cybertank is far away from its fellows, or in a combat environment with a lot of jamming and electronic noise, so they suffer these final moments in private. But in this case Old Guy and Doubletap were close enough that they managed to have a decent conversation while Doubletap was dying.
Ouch. I think they got you. How are you feeling?
“Aside from being a bit gloomy about dying in the next five milliseconds, I feel fine, no thanks to you,” said Doubletap. “You were a big help.”
What was I supposed to do? This was your party and those are your creations. And you know how old I am, I’m even slower than you are, I wasn’t 10% of the way to getting a firing solution before they got you.
The plasma beams of the three Enforcers had bored through the outer layers of Doubletaps’ hull, and were eating into the internal spaces.
“I know, my fault, just please don’t say that I told you so. I do have a favor to ask of you, though.”
The plasma beams had penetrated deep into the hull, and vaporized several auxiliary systems and much of the power feeds for Doubletaps’ armament. Superheated gases were started to vent at hypersonic speeds though his interior spaces, shattering everything that they struck.
A favor? Try me.
“Kill them all.”
Hmm. You know, I’m facing four powerful late-model heavyweight cybertanks, and I am long past my use-by date. The rumors of my sneakiness are greatly exaggerated; I am greatly outmatched and will probably die fighting them. But still, I will see what I can do, about killing them all, that is. I might have a trick or two left.
At this point the inside of Doubletap’s hull was hotter than the surface of a star, his systems were dissolving into plasma and he had only a few microseconds before the last coherent thoughts could make it through what remained of his datacores.
“Good luck, Old Guy. Sorry for the mess. Say nice things about me, if you win. But I still don’t like you.”
You may be a jerk, but still, I thank you for your help. Whatever your motivations, you ended up on my side. If I win, I will bowl a game in your honor.
Doubletap did not reply, because at this point he was quite completely dead.
Before the wreckage of Doubletap had even stopped blowing outwards the three Enforcers had targeted Old Guy.
“That was very unpleasant, but necessary,” said Thunder. “Doubletap had his skills, but ultimately could not be trusted. You, Old Guy, could yet be of use to me. Surrender, set an example of cooperation, and you can yet live. Perhaps we can even find you something to do. There are still those who listen to you, and they are causing us some minor trouble. Speak up on our behalf, and maybe we can let you go off exploring distant stars like you always used to. Think about it.”
Not a chance. Here, catch!
Since the earliest days of computers, there had been viruses and parasitic code. The easiest way to infect an information-processing device is via a direct connection to its central cores, but any system that is in contact with the real world can be attacked through its sensors and receivers. All cybertanks have sophisticated filters and virus-scrubbers on their inputs, but none of these systems are perfect. Also, the more virus-scrubbing you add to an input, the more overhead you have to put up with, and the slower your reactions. Finally, if anti-virus programs get too large they start to become points of vulnerability themselves. Thus, a certain susceptibility to infection is the cost that a cybertank pays for being engaged with the external world.
Old Guy had transmitted a broad-spectrum data virus at all four cybertanks. Data viruses are nothing if not diverse, but most, like their biological counterparts, have a structure that can be roughly divided up into the container, and the package. The container latches onto the interface circuitry, and injects the package, which does the real damage. The virus hooked into weaknesses in the radio and infrared receiver circuits of the three Enforcers and the Horizon-Class Thunder, and injected thousands of copies of the package into their more vulnerable central circuitry.
Thunder was annoyed, but not worried. He had had the latest upgrades, and there was no way that an ancient Odin-Class could possibly harm him in this way. The container was non-registered but, after brief inspection, was of a fairly basic design and easily neutralized. The package was also non-registered, but appeared to be somewhat more formidable. It was taking some effort to wipe out. Perhaps Old Guy had
gotten some help designing it? It seemed more capable than an ancient Odin-Class should have been able to create on its own. No matter, he was getting on top of it, and should have it cleaned up in about 10 milliseconds. Then there would be the matter of punishment.
Thunder almost missed it. The package was a decoy. The real threat was in the container. While he had been chasing the package around his central cores, the container had hidden from his cursory attempts at erasing it, and it was multiplying in his peripheral and sensory circuits. Thunder attempted to neutralize it – and was repulsed! The container virus was adaptive and rapidly bootstrapping itself up. It was almost sentient! It was sentient! This was the most dangerous virus that Thunder had ever encountered.
About this time you are probably realizing that the virus is a lot more potent than you first realized. I thought that I would tell you that it was a special present from a close friend of mine. You might have heard of him. He’s called ‘Smartass.’
Oh shit, thought Thunder. The single most formidable cybertank in their entire civilization. The only functioning Ghost-Class unit, the one with mental capabilities beyond all the rest. It made sense. Smartass was Old Guy’s child, and they had always been close. A virus custom-designed by Smartass would be the most deadly thing. The virus was starting to win; Thunder’s initial concerns were turning to horror.
Now you might wonder why I would tell you the source of the virus. Partly it’s because at this point the information won’t help you, and I’m hoping to rattle you by letting you know what you are up against. But mostly it’s because I just wanted to mess with you. Are we having fun yet?
Thunder ignored Old Guy. The virus was astonishing, beautiful really, and Thunder had never had to work so hard at anything in his life. It was a close thing, but he beat it.
The three Enforcers were not so fortunate. The virus subsumed the mind of one of them. Because they were all identical mental clones, the virus had the solution and was instantly able to corrupt and co-opt the other two. All three Enforcers were now under enemy control, and beginning to slew their main weapons towards Thunder. If the virus could not destroy Thunder’s mind from the inside, it would destroy it from the outside using brute force.
Thunder transmitted the control codes, and the weapon systems of the three Enforcers deactivated just before he was going to be blown up. It was fortunate that the over-ride commands used completely independent systems. Frustrated at not being able to kill Thunder, the virus settled on fusing all the logic circuits of the three Enforcers, leaving them dead hulks.
Thunder recovered his equilibrium, and took stock of the situation. The wreckage of Doubletap and the three Enforcer cybertanks was beginning to cook off, but Old Guy was nowhere to be seen. He had used the time during the virus attack to sneak away, heading at his top speed out towards the middle of the wastelands. Thunder was angry and determined to kill Old Guy. The tracks that he had left were easy to follow, and his seismic sensors confirmed the route.
Even though Old Guy was not in a line of sight, he was still well within radio range, and Thunder contacted him.
“Well that was really clever, Old Guy, but I won’t fall for that again. I far outclass you. I will beat you. Why not surrender and make it easy?”
Sorry, no thanks, you remember the cybertank way. Never give up, and as long as you maintain function keep trying to the last. I think I will play this out to the very end.
“I am going to kill you. You could take a 19 century pre-dreadnought, stick some radars and plasma cannons on it, and it still would not be a match for a 23 century razorcraft. You have had some upgrades but you are no match for me. Why not just stop, and let us finish this with dignity?”
Oh I don’t know, I’m starting to enjoy myself. I haven’t had a good work-out in a long time. And because making you chase me will annoy you. It’s these little pleasures that make life worthwhile, don’t you think?
Thunder was chasing after Old Guy, and gaining rapidly. Still, Thunder had been surprised once, and was not about to be surprised again. He scanned the terrain ahead of him with deep radar, looking for hidden mines or other traps. He did not have much in the way of remotes with him, but he did have some light scouts, which he launched. He ran simulations by the millions, trying to discover some trick that he had missed. He could find no way that Old Guy could beat him. But he still had a nagging feeling: what am I missing?
Thunder tried calling for assistance, either more Enforcers or maybe a missile strike. It was confusing: most of his peers appeared to be locked in combat, or not responding, or dead. There were frantic garbled references to librarians, which Thunder did not understand. It looked like he was on his own, for now.
Old Guy had dodged behind a large hill. If Thunder tried to cross directly over the top of the hill, Old Guy could shoot directly up into his relatively less heavily armored hull bottom, and not even a Horizon-Class could withstand that. So Thunder had to chase Old Guy around the hill. However, Thunder was faster than Old Guy, and it was only a matter of time before he got into range.
“Old Guy,” transmitted Thunder. “This is stupid. It is only a matter of minutes before I gain enough ground that I can shoot at you from around the side of the hill. You have been too clever: if you try and escape you will lose the cover of the hill and I can kill you as you run away. You have gained a couple of minutes’ respite but trapped yourself. Why are you dragging this out? Just stop, and I promise to make it quick.”
Oh I don’t know. Partly it’s just, as I said, the cybertank way, to fight until the bitter end. And partly it’s just because every last second more that I can annoy you is one more precious second of enjoyment. Bite me.
OK, you want to play it nasty, I’ll play it nasty, thought Thunder. It was only going to be 121 seconds until he outpaced Old Guy in the circular race around the hill, and then he would have a direct firing solution. Victory was all but certain.
Then he saw the dark spot on the horizon. It grew quickly into an ellipse. It was only about twice the angular size of the moon as seen from the surface of Old Terra, but it felt immense. It was that idiot starship ‘Fanboy’. And Thunder realized that he had been had. Oh Fuck.
HELLO THERE OLD GUY! HOW ARE THINGS? AM I TOO LATE FOR THE PARTY?
The voice echoed out from the sky in the audio band.
Fanboy! Glad to see you! But how are you doing this voice-of-God-from-the-heavens thing?
I AM USING PULSED MICROWAVES TO HEAT THE LOCAL ATMOSPHERE AND GENERATE ACOUSTIC WAVES. PRETTY NEAT, HUH?
Absolutely! Like Jehovah from an old Cecille B. Demille Movie. Totally cool!
“So,” said Thunder. “This entire running-around-the-hill-thing was just a trick to get me into position as Fanboy makes a grazing approach to the planet?”
You are a stupid shit, but you do catch on, given time. Why yes it was. I knew where he was going to be well in advance, I just had to get you in the right place. Prepare to die, neoliberal scum.
HEY, DO YOU WANT TO SURRENDER? I DON’T THINK THAT YOU WILL, BUT I AM OBLIGATED TO ASK.
Thunder elevated his main weapon, and fired at Fanboy who was at this time barely 60 kilometers away. By modern combat standards, that’s not close range, that’s intimate. The beam tore into Fanboy, and ripped out several layers of spaced armor. But given the size of Fanboy, the damage was trivial.
HEY THAT HURT! FEEL MY WRATH!
Fanboy targeted Thunder with two of his super-heavy weapons emplacements. Thunder was vaporized leaving little more than a modest crater and some smoke behind.
Thanks, Fanboy, I owe you. Any chance that you could stick around and help with the rest of them?
LOVE TO, BUT ORBITAL DYNAMICS AND LIMITED FUEL DO NOT PERMIT. I AM MOVING FASTER THAN A STANDARD ORBIT, JUST SKIMMING LOW IN A STRAFING RUN TAKING OUT SOME AMOK AND GLAD THAT I WAS IN THE RIGHT PLACE AND THE RIGHT TIME FOR YOU. AFRAID THAT I WILL NEED TO SKIP OFF THE ATMOSPEHRE AND LOOP OUT FOR A WHILE BEFORE I CAN GET BACK, YOU KNOW CONSERVATION OF MOMENTUM
IS A BITCH.
The sunlight glinted off of Fanboy, who was rotating slowly. There was a halo of ionized gas around him, and the faint trails of hypersonic shockwaves as he sliced through the outer edges of the atmosphere. Even though it took a full minute for him to cross to the other horizon, the vast scale of the scene made it feel incredibly rapid.
ALSO I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU ACTUALLY SAID: “PREPARE TO DIE NEOLIBERAL SCUM.” DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW CORNY THAT SOUNDS?
Sorry. It felt right at the time.
NO, I’M NOT CRITICIZING, I THOUGHT IT WAS PERFECT. ANYHOW I’M JUST ABOUT OUT OF RANGE. IT WILL TAKE ME A FEW DAYS TO SWING BACK. SAVE SOME BAD GUYS FOR ME. FOR I HAVE SPOKEN!
Time to get back to work. Time to clean up the mess, thought Old Guy, as he headed off to rejoin his fellows and, with a little luck, maybe kill a few more neoliberals. It had started out badly, but after all, this was looking to be a very good day indeed.
14. The Predator Game
“Principle? You say that we should do something on principle? Principle is what the weak fall back on when logic has failed.” – Anonymous.
The true test of a predator comes not when the prey is large and strong, but when it is small and weak.
The bioengineered super-predator “Mondocat” was hunting on the sage scrub of the main cybertank world of Alpha Centauri Prime. Mondocat massed nearly a metric ton, vaguely feline in overall aspect but with six interleaving hindlimbs, and she was covered in tough armored scales. Her species had been designed by a long-passed civilization of unsurpassed talents in biological engineering.
Space Battleship Scharnhorst and the Library of Doom (An Old Guy/Cybertank Adventure) Page 21
