by Isaac Hooke
“Effing bitches!” Slate said. “Mother effing bitches! Uh, uh, let’s go back?”
“So I guess we’ve confirmed this isn’t the Chinese?” Manticore said.
“Unless the Chinese have had a breakthrough in bioweapons technology,” Marlborough said. “Then no, it is not.”
“What are those things at the bottom of the hill?” Brontosaurus asked.
Eric zoomed out slightly, and lowered his scope until his crosshairs were traveling over the bottom of the hill. Then he spotted them: a series of empty troughs lining the base of the hill.
“Look like troughs?” Eagleeye said.
“Troughs?” Tread said. “For what?”
“Dunno,” Eageleeye said. “Maybe waste disposal?”
“Yeah but they’re on level ground, not sloping, like you’d expect if that were true,” Hank said. “And they’re not even connected to the base in any way.”
“Forget the troughs,” Slate said. “Who gives a shit about the troughs? These are freakin’ aliens! First contact, bitches. Whoa. Breathe, Slate my boy. Breathe.”
“Not so fast, Slate,” Dickson said. “Even if aliens have invaded, it’s highly unlikely we’re looking at them. Think about it. What are the chances alien invaders would be compatible with our environment? With bodies having just the right pressure differential so that they didn’t implode or explode, and were able to withstand our gravity so that they weren’t flattened the moment they set foot on our planet? And what about atmospheric contents capable of powering alien respiration? That’s right. The chances are essentially zilch.
“These things look like bioweapons to me, engineered specifically for our environment. The two at the entrance are likely cyborg analogs, while those inside the base are pure bioweapon, based on DNA samples taken from Earth species. No doubt they all have control chips of some kind installed in their heads.
“If I were an alien race invading a world, I’d take samples and create bioweapons like these to augment my main forces. Cells can be programmed to divide at an exorbitant rate... it can be far cheaper to create a custom designed organic than to create a robot, resource wise, especially if you spliced in photosynthesis capabilities to help fuel all that division.”
“I have to agree,” Brontosaurus said. “These are definitely bioweapons. Not the aliens themselves. But I’m not convinced they’re using photosynthesis for food.”
“I’m not sure I like the implications of what you’re saying,” Crusher said.
“It’s just as well that you don’t,” Brontosaurus said. “I don’t like them either.”
“Let’s forget about their food source for now, and all that other stuff,” Hicks said. “We need to come up with a name for them. So we can differentiate between the two types, those guarding the entrance, and those inside, in the heat of battle. I like Grizz, myself.”
“Grizz?” Slate said. “They look nothing like grizzlies. Shit. Grizz.”
“Myself, I’m calling those two robot-insect mashup thingies guarding the entrance Frankenstein Dogs,” Manticore said. “You know why, right?”
“Works for me,” Crusher said. “Frankendogs for short.”
“What about those things that look like centipedes with four-armed torsos and big bulbous tails?” Hyperion said.
“How about Pussy Riders?” Slate said.
“Yeah, more like Dick Rippers,” Bambi said.
“I’m just going to call them Red Tails,” Brontosaurus said. “Feel free to follow my lead.”
“I bet there’s acid in those glandular sacs,” Traps said. “Assuming those are actually glandular sacs… looking at the tail triggered those words in my database for some reason.”
“Mine, too,” Eric said.
“Well then maybe you two bright bulbs should let yourselves get smacked with one of those ‘glandular sacs,’ and you can let the rest of us know what’s inside them,” Slate suggested.
“No thanks,” Traps said.
“I’m detecting a communications web similar to our own, emanating from that base,” Mickey said. “The signals are powerful. My guess is they could easily outpunch our own, if they wanted to, severely limiting our range.”
“Well, we’re going to continue to limit our own comm range for the time being,” Marlborough said. “So far, it seems they haven’t spotted us. And I intend to keep it that way.”
“If these really were aliens, I’m surprised they wouldn’t have eyes in orbit on us…” Bambi said.
“Obviously they’ve got a whole lot of other things to look at, especially if this is an invasion like we think it is,” Marlborough said.
Eric heard a sonic boom, and he and the others ducked lower.
A large vessel approached from the south. It slowed rapidly, so that the sonic boom faded away, leaving only a distant humming. The craft was shaped like a broad, silver diamond, and cut a thin profile through the air. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and there was no matching vessel in his military database.
From Malibu base, the Red Tails abruptly rushed from the entrance—the containing pen had apparently lifted. The creatures swarmed down the hillside. Eric trained his crosshairs on one of them, following that torso, and the centipede body it was connected to as it ran…. he couldn’t fire, of course, not until he was sure the team was under attack. The current Rules of Engagement prevented that.
When the creatures reached the bottom of the hill, he was expecting them to race toward the hiding place of the Bolt Eaters. That still wouldn’t count as an attack, unless they opened fire with weapons Eric couldn’t see at the moment.
But instead, the Red Tails crowded around the waiting troughs, and gazed upward expectantly with those elongated white heads.
The vessel continued to approach. It was moving at a crawl now for this final leg, until it stopped outright above the troughs. The craft slowly lowered until it was hovering about ten meters above the ground.
“Is it just me, or shouldn’t it be impossible for that thing to fly?” Mickey said. His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid the bioweapons would overhear him, or any aliens aboard the craft, despite the distance.
Broad, half-cylinder conduits extended from the underside of the vessel, and a reddish sludge poured into the waiting troughs on the ground. The engineered animals shoved their heads into the sludge and drank with relish. Some of the bigger ones raised white heads that dripped with red liquid, and snapped at Red Tails nearby, keeping them at bay.
“Reminds me of a puppy litter,” Crusher said. “When you put out the milk.”
“What is that red sludge they’re drinking?” Bambi said.
“Actually, the better question to ask is, what happened to the humans that were holed up in Urdani, and Malibu?” Braxton said. “We saw what those termites could do to a machine…”
“Oh no,” Traps said. “You’re not saying…”
“I am,” Braxton said. “They’re not powering their bioweapons with chlorophyll, but with human and animal tissue.”
As if to prove Braxton’s point, one of the creatures fetched what looked like a partial human skeleton from the sludge in the trough and swallowed it whole.
“Oh God, this is disgusting,” Bambi said.
“You can take some comfort in the fact that any humans were already dead before they were harvested,” Dickson said. “The gamma ray, remember…”
“So that vessel flew in from the east,” Crusher said. “There are a few cities in that direction. I think we have to assume that they’ve fallen.”
“That would be a safe assumption,” Dickson said. “The bigger question is, how many cities have fallen across the world?”
“I got a different question,” Hicks said. “Why were we spared in the initial strike? Malibu was lost. Urdani. The forward operating base. Other cities to the east. Presumably all swept over by swarms of those termites in conversion runs that transformed the surviving metal into more micro machines, while processing organic tis
sue for consumption by their bioweapons. But we were passed over. Why?”
“It would be relatively easy to target urban centers, due to heat and light pollution,” Hank said. “But a lone platoon and its support units out in the middle of nowhere? Even if they did notice us, maybe they thought it wasn’t worth the effort to hunt us down. Maybe they knew that eventually we’d come to them. As we have.”
“We should attack,” Hyperion said.
“Notwithstanding the fact we have no idea what we’re up against, the Rules of Engagement won’t let us,” Marlborough said.
“Good point,” Hyperion said. “Guess that rules out a surprise attack.”
“It does,” Marlborough said.
“Way I see it, we only got one option,” Brontosaurus said. “We turn back, then give this city a wide berth as we head east to the closest major city.”
“And what then?” Mickey said. “What if it’s just as empty as Urdani, ‘processed’ by these aliens for raw materials? What if the only fate awaiting us there is to be processed ourselves? We already agreed our jury-rigged anti-termite defenses won’t hold off a whole swarm. We should go into hiding, and just wait out the invasion. We can’t really do anything anyway, we’re just a small group of robots against an entire invasion force. Our Rules of Engagement won’t even let us attack first.”
“Yes but, it’s possible we’ll find some comm equipment intact,” Brontosaurus said. “With it, we might be able to reestablish communications with headquarters and receive further orders. As well as an update on what the situation is.”
“Comm equipment intact?” Mickey said. “I don’t know man. Urdani was swept clean of any machinery. Even if we reach a bigger city, I doubt we’ll find anything.”
“Personally, I think we should be trying to hitch a ride on that vessel,” Manticore said. “Then take on these aliens at their source.”
“Brave, but a recipe for disaster,” Crusher said. “Seeing how little we know about these aliens and their tech.”
As Eric watched, the craft retracted its feeding conduits, then moved skyward once more.
“Too late now,” Frogger said.
The vessel began to hum once more, and then it moved east at an ever increasing speed until it broke the sound barrier: a sonic boom reverberated across the area.
“Mickey, you said you detected a comm web emanating from that base?” Eric asked.
“That’s right,” Mickey answered.
“What if we could capture some of this alien technology?” Eric said.
“We wouldn’t be able to use it…” Donald said.
“No,” Dickson said. “But the Brass would appreciate anything we could get our hands on. The problem is, how to get inside that base with all those bioweapons guarding it?”
The Red Tails licked the troughs clean, and then scaled the hill more calmly until they were inside Malibu, and no doubt enveloped in their pen. Eric was beginning to think that the pen was composed of an energy field, since he hadn’t seen any glass walls rising anywhere from the ground.
Just then he heard a buzzing overhead.
“The hell is that?” Marlborough said.
Eric glanced skyward, and zoomed in. Halfway between the platoon, and the base, he spotted a small drone.
“It’s a Raven,” Eagleye said. “Russian model.”
“A Russian model?” Dickson said.
“Bokerov…” Marlborough said. “He’s got to be in the area somewhere.”
Eric surveyed the terrain beyond the tanks behind the platoon, but didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary.
“With that racket, he’ll draw the attention of every bioweapon in the region,” Traps said.
Eric studied the Raven a moment longer. “It’s headed in our direction.”
“That Russian bastard knows we’re here,” Dickson said. “And he’s leading them right to us!”
“The bioweapons haven’t reacted yet,” Crusher said.
“Permission to shoot it down?” Braxton asked.
“This could be considered a form of attack by the Rules of Engagement,” Traps said. “Couldn’t it?”
“It could,” Marlborough said. “Braxton. Shoot it down.”
The sniper aimed his rifle skyward. He fired.
The Raven plunged from the sky and crashed with a gentle thud.
“Termites!” Hyperion said.
Eric glanced back toward the base. A cloud of termites swarmed from the entrance and flew down the hill.
“Uh, that was a bad idea,” Brontosaurus said.
The termites were headed directly toward the hiding place of the Bolt Eaters.
19
Eric stared at the approaching swarm in horror.
“Well, it looks like this is the end, my brothers and sisters,” Mickey said. “It was good serving with you.”
“It’s not the end,” Eric said. He would have gritted his teeth if he had them. “We won’t sell our lives cheaply.”
“I’m with you on that, bro,” Hank said. “These termites want to take us, they’re going to have to work for it.”
“Activate hull charge,” Marlborough said.
Eric and the others did so. Eric could hear the soft hum as the electricity coated his exterior.
Marlborough glanced at Eric. “Now we get to see how well your electrification design works in combat.”
“It won’t stop them all,” Eric said, gazing at the incoming swarm. “There are too many of them.”
“It’s too bad we can’t plug into our tanks and recharge while keeping the electrified coating active,” Tread said.
They couldn’t do that, because the charge from their hulls would transfer to the tanks, and flow straight into the ground.
“Tread, prepare Jupiters to unleash electrolasers,” Marlborough said.
“Prepared to fire Jupiter electrolasers,” Tread said.
“Damn it,” Marlborough said. “We need to open fire now. Cause as much damage as we can before contact. But the Rules of Engagement won’t let us.”
“They’re continuing to close with our position,” Brontosaurus said. “That constitutes an attack, as far as I’m concerned, given what we know about the capabilities of these termites.”
“Go ahead and try to fire,” Marlborough said. “And tell me what happens.”
Brontosaurus aimed at the incoming cloud.
Eric did, too. He tried to squeeze the trigger, but his finger refused to comply.
“Can’t do it,” Brontosaurus said.
“My Rules subsystem is telling me it won’t allow us to fire until the termites reach us, and attempt to land on our electrified skins,” Marlborough said. “This is ridiculous.”
“It’s too bad we weren’t able to break through the Containment Code yet,” Frogger sent Eric privately.
“Yeah. Too bad.” Eric watched as the cloud of termites approached.
“When the swarm arrives,” Bambi said. “Our tanks will be the first to go down.”
“It will take time to convert them,” Hank said.
“True, but even if we eventually beat the rest of the termites, we’ll have to handle the new swarm produced from the raw materials of our tanks,” the robot operator continued. “Plus, no doubt the aliens will send their bioweapons raining down on us at some point.”
“The swarm is continuing to close with our position…” Mickey said.
“Wait,” Eric said. “The termites don’t yet know where we are. Look at their flight path. They’re headed in our general direction, this is true, but they’re not flying directly toward us.”
“They’ll change directions shortly, no doubt when they detect our thermal signatures…” Dickson said.
“Unless we create a diversion,” Eric said.
“A diversion?” Dickson asked.
“Sarge, requesting permission to lead the termites away from the platoon,” Eric said.
“You want to act as a decoy?” Marlborough asked.
“I do
,” Eric said. “I’ll draw them away.”
“You’ll die,” Brontosaurus said.
“I know,” Eric said. “But the rest of you will live. My brothers and sisters… Sarge… let me do this. If there’s a chance I can prevent those termites from discovering our position, I have to take it. Or at the very least, buy you enough time to flee before the other bioweapons arrive.”
“The other bioweapons and their guards haven’t even moved from their positions by the entrance,” Hicks said.
“But they will,” Eric said. “You know they will.”
“You know, by leaving cover, you’ll just be revealing the position of the rest of us to the swarm…” Dickson said.
“Maybe,” Eric said. “But they’ll discern our position as they get closer anyway, like you said.” He glanced at Marlborough. “So, Sarge? We’re running out of time…”
“You have my permission,” Marlborough finally said. “Do it.”
Eric raced from cover. He headed due west.
He had expected all of the termites to pursue him, but only a small portion of the swarm broke away to pursue. A disappointingly small portion. The rest actually swerved toward the platoon’s position.
Damn it. All I did was reveal where the rest of the platoon was hiding, like Dickson said.
“I’m going with him,” Brontosaurus said over the comm.
Before Marlborough could counter him, the heavy gunner was on his feet, and racing after Eric. More termites broke away from the swarm.
“I’m in,” Bambi said over the comm.
“Me too,” Slate said, joining her.
“Noble of you,” Bambi told him as the pair raced after Brontosaurus and Eric. “Considering how much you hate these things.”
“Not noble,” Slate said. “Selfish. I want to squash as many of them as I can before I go.”
