The Battle of Broken Moon
Page 27
"It's just that I—"
"Matt, as an Infantry NCO, I know you've given people missions that you did not participate in. Delegate. Otherwise, if you insist on jumping, I go with you."
"Okay, okay. I'll delegate."
In route to the elevator shaft, we passed through the vault door that had been violently blown open with more explosives than was necessary, based on the amount of damage in the cylindrical hallway that led directly to the elevator shaft.
The nine of us SUBs gathered at the elevator door. Behind us, all the bots waited patiently. Looking up, we could see the elevator car with a hole in its bottom. It was at the top on floor one. Looking down, there was a one meter drop into a well that accommodated the bottom of the car and contained five bumpers.
Above us some five point eight meters, the door to the fifth floor stood open. Just as Sanyo had reported, there was light and the voices of five individuals could be heard. We all stood there several minutes, listening intently. There were no other voices, no sound of servos. Just the five individual Bio voices.
I motioned the other SUBs to gather around, and as they did, one of the females spoke before I could. "Matt, we have already worked this out. There are nine of us, so we'll jump up in waves of three. Sam, Marc, and I will go first. Cassie, Mitch, and Juan will go next. You, Susan and Jan will bring up the rear."
"Hey, who's giving the orders here?"
"Well, you are, of course. Now, get out of the way and let us get lined up."
As the three groups of three got prepared, I squatted down before Sanyo. "If this should go badly, you are in charge. Get this done for me, will ya?"
"What are you talking about?" Sanyo said dismissively. "When you get up there and have the place safe for me, send down the elevator."
We all got lined up and set. The first three were looking at me for the go sign. I listened again to the men above, there was no change. I raised my right arm, paused, then dropped it. The three sprang up and hit the door to the floor above running and firing. As soon as the door was clear, the second group jumped. The crescendo of weapons fire was horrific. Susan gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and we leapt. Again, my world seemed to move in slow motion. We weren't halfway up when the firing stopped. My anxiety meter pegged out. When we reached the floor above, it was all over. There were six dead terrorists; the five guards who must have expected an attack from the main door to our right, and one guy who had been sitting at a console constructed from several portable cases they had brought with them. This was how they had been controlling the little tank drones.
To my front left, Cassie was kneeling over a body. One of ours was down. I rushed over. Cassie was making a sound like crying and, at her feet, laid Sam Bixby. A bullet had passed right through his head.
"Dammit to hell," I muttered.
Susan ran up and grabbed Cassie, then led her slowly away.
Cassie stopped Susan and turned toward me. "Just so you know," she said, her voice choked with sorrow, "this whole jumping thing was his idea."
Mitch and I moved Sam to a spot behind a console; we straightened him out and folded his hands on his chest. He looked more asleep than dead because SUBs don't assume the pallor of death.
I sat on the floor next to him and ran my hand through my simulated hair. Was there family I should send sympathies to? Probably not, or he would not have been made a SUB. This thought made me realize just how much we, here, were the only family we each had.
Sam had come with us, even though he was sure this was a DIP mission. That is the very definition of courage. I wanted some recognition for Samuel Bixby; hell, I wanted some recognition for all the bots and SUBs that fought here with such courage. But I knew it would never happen. We were classified.
Susan returned, so I got to my feet. Before she could speak, I asked, "Where are they all?"
She was looking down at Sam. "Cassie liked him a lot. She told me she had always been aware of him, but never had the courage to speak to him."
"That's funny," I said. "She had the courage to jump up here into hostile gunfire, but couldn't bring herself to talk to another person."
We stood quietly another moment before Susan looked up. "I'm sorry, what was your question?" she asked.
"The enemy, where are they all? We thought all the Bios would be here holding themselves in reserve."
"I have concluded the enemy did not consider the tactical plan we assumed they would. We thought their mission was to defeat us, it is not. These people hope to die martyrs for their cause. They realize that even a victory over us is fleeting because they have lost all hope of completing their original mission. They see deaths as their only option. Their goal now is to die in battle. So, thinking we are all defending the hospital, they left only a small rear guard to defend the operator of the robots, and the remaining complement has moved against the hospital."
"So, right now—" I said, pondering the situation.
"Right now, if Walker followed your instructions, they are all secured in the hospital's shelter, and safe," Susan interrupted me.
"Susan, did you see that vault door down there? Don't you think they can blast that bunker open?"
"I don't think so; it was built to withstand a near proximity meteorite impact."
"Regardless, we need to get back there ASAP."
It took us an hour and ten minutes to get the entire detachment up in the small elevator to the ground floor of sector zero. The first arrivals went directly out into the BSC looking for operational magnetic hover trams. We could have run the distance back to dome two and made good time, but Susan made me aware of the battery charge we were all carrying. Most of our batteries were fifty to fifty-five percent. Meaning we had only thirty to thirty-five percent charge remaining before facing a mandatory full recharge, which I'd already learned took twenty-four hours. Time and power usage had become a major consideration. If my entire force had to go into recharge, the enemy could take its time destroying us. If we ignored our batteries, we'd all die.
Thus, I was hoping to put everyone on trams and ride the distance back to sector nine, but we couldn't spend hours looking all over for the damn things.
Ultimately, we found enough to carry almost everyone. I asked for those with the largest amount of charge to identify themselves. From those with fifty-five to sixty percent charge, I selected ten. Among them, I placed myself.
Susan, of course, objected. "Matt, do you need reminding that you are the commander? We are going to need you on the battlefield."
"Susan, I have a sixty-two percent charge remaining. And need I remind you that the commander is expected to lead by example. I'll run alongside the tram you're in."
"I'll be running alongside you, dear."
"Oh, yeah? What's your charge?"
"That's beside the point."
"Like hell. You ride, that's an order from your commander."
"An order? You're giving me an order?" Her back was up.
"That's right. I have to do it now. I won't be able to after we're married."
Her face changed from an expression of anger to one devoid of expression, then her eyes lit up and she was beaming. She threw her arms around me and kissed me like no one was watching. Around us, all fell silent. Our lips parted and she said quite loud, "Yes, Matt, I'll marry you."
The sound of metal claws clacking filled the air, as the bots applauded. I also heard some wolf whistles. Glancing over Susan's shoulder, I could see the culprit; it was, of course, Sanyo.
Our celebration of the moment had to be cut short so we could move out. As everyone loaded into the trams, Susan extended her left hand toward my left side and asked, "Help me up?" I instantly recognized what she was up too. She wanted our two sensor equipped hands to connect so she could read my power levels. I extended my right. She climbed up, sat down but kept hold of my hand. "Give me your other hand," she demanded.
I just looked at her.
"You're lying to me, aren't you? You don't have sixty-two percent.
This is some way to start our engagement."
"Darling, I'll be fine."
My actual power level was forty-eight percent, but I'd seen how I was using it and I figured I had far more than enough juice to make this run and fight an enemy who was no longer supported by all those robots. Hell, if we were expending power normally, I'd have two or three months remaining before I would need a charge. When this was all over—and I just knew we were close to it now—I'd grab a charge, even if it had to be a long one.
I had directed Sanyo to destroy the bot control panel the enemy had set up. He accomplished this with his laser, cutting each component in half.
I was feeling confident of victory, now. The only remaining question was how many casualties would we have to suffer—SUBs, bots, and Bios—before it was all over?
As the trams moved along the corridor, we SUBs and bots with greater charges trotted along on either side of them with our weapons at the ready. When we reached the outer ring, we'd head north and enter sector nine from the south. From the pressure doors, we'd have to dismount and walk into dome one. Dome two was just beyond. The total distance inside the BSC was about thirty kilometers. The distance across dome one was one hundred eighty-three meters, but it was in total ruin, and there was a lot of debris to climb over.
At full speed, the trams were making about twenty-eight KpH, so in just over an hour we'd be in sector nine.
Not that there was a lot of talking going on as we traveled toward battle, but we all became silent as we entered sector nine. As we moved north through what we called the south corridor, we saw the ruin of the barricade ahead. It stood as mute testimony to the violence of the enemy attack and the determination of our defense. Fully four hundred meters out, we encountered enemy dead, dozens of them. The barricade itself was blown apart, as was the one to the north.
Inside sector nine were the remains of our bots. We could identify the remains of eighty or so. All had perished here; we already knew this because none had rejoined us. I counted the remains of eight of the nine SUBs I had left here, but the unidentifiable parts lying all over the place provided a clue to the ultimate fate of the ninth SUB.
I did look, but thankfully I found no sign of Dolph. He must have been completely consumed in that fireball I'd seen.
We headed east toward dome one. At the pressure doors, we had to stop. Even if the dome were not wrecked, the trams could travel no farther, as their guidance tracks did not extend beyond the BSC.
We all dismounted and formed up. I sent the SUBs forward to scout the area ahead and choose the most accessible path for our bots to travel though. With their tank treads extended, there were few obstacles that they could not surmount, but there were some.
The SUBs were not fifty meters from us when we heard the first sound of distant explosions. Our Bio friends, whose survival was our mission, were only twenty kilometers away, we dropped all pretense of a considered and tactical movement across dome one and started moving as fast as the bots could roll. I did send three SUBs on ahead to let us know what it was we were running toward.
When we reached the tunnel that connected one to two, the SUBs were waiting there for us.
"Matt," Mitch reported, "the enemy is all concentrated in and around the hospital. It appears they are trying to blast into the bunker."
"Well, well, well, seems my original plan for the defense of the hospital is reversed. They hold the high ground and are in the defense and we have to attack through the open flat area in front of it."
"Matt, they are extraordinarily fixated on that bunker," Cassie said, "Mitch and I got to within a hundred meters of the hospital. We might be able to walk right up on them."
"Susan!" I called her over.
"Yes, Matt?"
"Can we shut the light off in here?"
"There are two methods to do that; one would require a return to Ava's chamber. The other is a maintenance room inside the apex of the dome."
"That's out, we don't have the time. We're going to have to launch a frontal attack fully illuminated, and just pray."
"Matt," Susan said, "there are buildings along the sides of the dome that come to within a few meters of the hospital. We could sneak some bots into them and when the enemy discovers our frontal attack we could hit both their flanks, simultaneously."
"Outstanding! Let's do it. I should think about thirty on each side?"
"That should do it."
Within the hour, we had sixty bots in place, thirty on each side of the hospital, and ready to go.
The last covered positions in no man's land were about a hundred and ten meters out from the hospital and would accommodate about fifteen bots. A hundred meters behind those positions were piles of debris that would cover the remainder of our force. We started our movement forward.
Susan refused all ideas I had to protect her. She would move forward with me. "It's simple honey, this way I can both keep an eye on you and be assured you don't do something foolish."
Chapter 20
The Angel of Death
With the flanks covered, we began our movement into dome two toward those attacking our friends in the hospital. Susan and I kept relocating to wherever I could best have eyes on the battlefield. This meant some hopping around—that is, until we reached the top of what had once been a medical research laboratory. From here, I could see most everything. We were at the eastern extent of the dome overlooking an area one hundred nine meters wide by forty-nine meters deep. The hospital lay at the center east end against the wall of the dome. Susan and I were perhaps one hundred twenty-five meters away.
Our assault bots reached their jump off points and waited.
I scanned the battlefield with my amplified vision, as did Susan. In the many windows of the hospital, we could see ten of the enemy keeping lookout, but they had not seen us.
Susan brought my attention to the many now inactivated little tank drones scattered all about.
"They no longer pose a threat," I said.
I had all the surviving SUBs with me to act as runners because they moved much faster than the bots. Without communications, we were dependent on runners, so our communications technology had returned to the Civil War.
We had discussed the plan and all the bots knew what had to be done. It was a horrible, gruesome task, but the odds of even one of these sword and stars guys surrendering was unlikely in the extreme, so much so that I made no plan for the eventuality. The objective was the total destruction of the enemy force, which we estimated to be at or about one hundred twenty-five to one hundred thirty individuals, to include Mamat and Pegram. Most of these, we presumed to be inside the hospital trying to get into the meteorite shelter.
At exactly 16:55, the assault began. It began with the simultaneous discharge of ten HnK rifles. The report of the ten rifles were so close together it sounded like one shot. The ten enemy lookouts fell dead.
The first wave of assault bots began to move quickly across no man's land hoping to close the distance to the enemy before they were discovered.
“Wow, I guess none of the terrorists heard those shots.” I observed in total amazement.
After our force had gone a hundred meters, the second wave began its movement. There were thirty bots in each wave. Twenty remained behind to provide covering fire if needed, and as a reserve force.
I had now committed forward of the Line of Departure one hundred forty bots, damn near our total force. This was it. This was our last effort. Failure meant the death of every living, thinking entity on the Moon. If they won, they would eventually get inside the shelter and kill everyone in there. And with no more of us to kill, the remaining enemy would all commit suicide.
I said a silent prayer, and then checked to ensure I had a full magazine in my weapon, I chambered a round, and placed the weapon on safe.
The bots were moving rapidly, nearing that last cover before the hospital. As the first wave cleared the last of the debris, the enemy opened fire. Tracers were flying everywhere. Ou
r first wave broke formation and scattered, all the while trying to maintain their forward momentum toward the hospital. The second wave went to ground behind the larger pile of debris and returned fire. The reserves opened up, as well.
I grabbed Mitch. "Go tell that second wave to keep moving, they absolutely cannot stop! And on the way back, tell the reserves to advance to that pile where the second wave are now. Hurry!"
At that moment, per the plan, the two flanking elements began their assault. Our bots had no more started to pour out of the buildings when missiles from the deactivated tank drones ripple-fired into the buildings. Fireball after fireball erupted and I could see the chassis of several of our little bots flying, burning, through the air.
The first and second waves took advantage of this to push their advance. Under the cover of the blossoming yellow, orange, and black explosions they sprinted forward.
Our snipers began to target all the tank drones, destroying them or their various mounted weapons.
"How is it these things are still operational?" I shouted toward Susan in order to be heard above the din.
As I shouted, Susan examined the little tanks with her amplified vision, "They aren't operational," she shouted back, "the missile systems are being fired by wire, as Walker did outside against the lander. Look!" Zooming in I could see the black cables running out of each drone.
Our bots in the assault had now engaged the enemy on the front steps of the hospital—firing was point blank, and a lot of the fighting was now hand-to-hand.
"Come on!" I shouted to the other SUBs, and we all grabbed our weapons and started bounding toward the hospital as fast as we could. Passing the reserves, we beckoned them to follow, and with a war cry, they rose and we threw ourselves forward into the flaming muzzles of our enemy.
The fighting moved inside the hospital, turning this into a room by room, hall by hall fight, the worst kind of combat imaginable.
When our guys hit the hospital, we had parity in numbers. But at the entrance to the hospital, I saw twenty-one destroyed bots and only eight dead terrorists.