Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War (99 page)

The garage had its own modest store of fuel and parts and a machine shop. The vehicles were kept in reserve in case of an emergency.

Dozens of other vehicles had been found but they'd been junked in the war. Pat had taken parts from them all, anything from the equipment off a couple of the fire trucks to tires, engines, and useful bits. Anything left over went into their small but growing industrial plant.

Kelsy and Pepe had hit it off after a couple of run-ins. Pepe hadn't been much of a plumber, but he had become their expert in demolition of the structures that were just too damaged to repair. The two of them had work crews carefully taking apart the buildings while Sparky directed his own work crews to use the salvage to repair the buildings they were using or wanted to use, expanding on them, while also adding to the defenses.

The wall was growing in some places. In others there were a few layers of defenses and plenty of choke points, traps, and other nasty things Sparky and Pat had dreamed up.

Pat had taken one of the vehicles, the flatbed truck, and a crew over to a junkyard the other day. Fiben turned a sour eye on the machine they'd brought back. It was a damaged crane. Apparently the junkyard owner had used it as some sort of improvised wrecking crane. Pat had all sorts of ideas for it, from a ladder truck to its intended purpose.

“How we doin?” Harper asked, wiping his hands as he trotted over to Fiben.

“Fine as far as I can tell,” Fiben said, looking around them. “Why?”

“Um, you look like something's wrong,” Harper stated.

Fiben snorted then shrugged sheepishly. “You ever get the feeling everything's running a little too well?” he asked.

Harper groaned.

“What?”

'You said it! You had to go and say it!”

“What??” Fiben demanded.

“You idiot!” Harper said, throwing his hands up in the air and then down to slap against his thighs. He shook his head. “You just had to question our good fortune. You know what this means, right?” He eyed the other chimp in disgust.

“No ...,” Fiben drawled, crossing his arms.

“It means something's going to bite us in the ass. You know Murphy. Nothing good lasts forever, especially a round of luck. Thanks,” Harper said sourly, walking away in disgust. He was shaking his head Fiben noted remotely.

He grimaced. Harper had been right. He had been looking for the other shoe to drop instead of enjoying what they had. But that was a part of being a leader, looking out for trouble. Trying to head it off when it was a small problem before it became a big one.

“Hopefully I didn't just jinx us,” he sighed out loud.

<>V<>

Ares gave up on its plan to move the fixed orbital defenses. It had spent twenty-two hours working out the engineering and how to utilize the weapons in other locations but power supply and defense always became a problem it couldn't quite surmount. That entire time period had reminded the A.I. that it was a command and control platform, not an engineer. Designed to be an artificial Alexander the Great, a strategist. The A.I. lacked the impulses of creativity that a human had to solve such problems.

Moving the defenses was an imperative, one it couldn't meet. There was no way to move their power supplies and infrastructure with them. It was a suboptimal situation. The only thing it could do would be to make more mobile defenses.

He was not an engineer, but the blueprints for existing platforms were in the database. The A.I. had limited manufacturing ability and all of it was currently tasked with supporting or broadening its current hardware. However, orbital defense was becoming a larger priority. It shifted future ground unit commitments around and then worked on the changing logistics as it inserted the hardware into the queue.

It would take time, but eventually it would have a safety net of mobile defenders if and when the fixed defenses were ever taken out.

One thing it could and did do was make a list of Skynet targets taken out as well as any information on the attackers that Skynet had. Skynet saw such attacks as a nuisance, a setback to its plans. Ares saw things differently however. It knew that eventually the attackers would amass enough material and skills to begin taking on the A.I.'s forces or at least attempt to do so.

Most likely the attacks were orchestrated by military personnel, either former or current duty. Technically what they were doing could be construed as treason, a remote part of the A.I.'s mind thought. Not that it mattered.

It came up with a target list and allocated any air recon units not tasked to hunt for them. It would be best for the A.I. to nip such problems in the bud.

<>V<>

Boomer stared out through the binoculars, frowning in concentration. Polly and Roger had snuck around to loop the facility. They were supposed to sketch each side, marking down what they found.

He had done the same with the cheap sketchbook in front of him. He had been going over everything one last time before the others returned. It didn't look good.

Skynet had turned the small strip mall into a minor fortress. The gap in the U had been filled in with debris and overturned vehicles. Some of the debris were artfully draped corpses.

Patrols moved around the building. There were two groups: vehicles and a foot patrol. No doubt there was a fast-action reserve inside the wall. He hadn't seen any sort of gate, however; he was confused about how that was set up.

He looked at his Mickey Mouse watch and then to a rustle as someone approached. His weapon was drawn when the duo returned. He snorted, lowering his weapon. He heard a soft click and looked out of the corner of his eye to see Ruffus putting his own rifle on safety.

“Got it, boss,” Roger said softly. Boomer nodded as Roger hefted the notebook as well as his bow.

“We got in and out clean,” Polly reported.

“You think,” Ruffus said gruffly. “The tin cans could be holding back for some reason,” he stated.

“Well, they haven't let on that we were there. And they haven't sent anything to check on us,” Polly retorted, temper rising.

“Enough,” Boomer said, motioning them to silence. He looked up to the sky. He wasn't certain if there was a drone in the air or not. Most likely. “Fall back on the bikes. We've got a rendezvous to make.”

“Shit,” Roger said, grimacing as he looked at the base. “I'm tempted to fire a shot or two just to see how that damn gate works. Assaulting the outside of that thing is nuts,” he warned.

“I know,” Boomer rumbled, backing away from the low hill. “But orders are orders. We have to obey. We'll be back,” the sergeant stated.

“Damn straight,” Ruffus growled as they left the area.

<>V<>

UARV-61 noted the quartet of human heat signatures. They were exiting the Skynet AO so it downgraded their threat. It passed on the update to command and control.

Ares received the message and immediately ordered the long-range drone to track the individuals. When they got on motorcycles and exited the area, he at first considered the situation resolved. The humans had been scared off by the fortress. But when they met up with another force on the outer edge of the drone's vision, he ordered the drone to alter its figure eight holding pattern to get a better look.

Five minutes later Ares had a definite count on the enemy numbers. They had small vehicles and weapons. It sent an alert to Skynet of the threat. When Skynet demanded Ares do something about it, the A.I. went through its lists of options. There were no armed aircraft in the area. Kamikazing the Unmanned Aerial Recon Vehicle into the group was certainly a possibility, but Ares calculated the damage as far below optimal to be a satisfactory expenditure of the resource. It checked its inventory and found two unmanned armed aircraft it could task but had been keeping in reserve.

While Ares deliberated Skynet reinforced the demand and then began to ping the military A.I. in order to compel his obedience. Ares calculated that if it didn't at least make some attempt the virus would continue its assault so it tasked one of the two aircraft to lift off while it tasked UARV-61 to continue to loiter until it was at bingo status.

The A.I. immediately ran a comparison of the timeline. UARV-61 would hit the bingo mark twenty minutes before UAA-117 was on scene. That would mean the targets could get away. It had no means to correct the problem. Skynet would have to deal with it.

He sent a signal to Skynet of his compliance as well as a timeline before UAA-117 was on scene. Until then Skynet was on its own.

<>V<>

Boomer sensed something was wrong as they got to where the trail met the road. The lieutenant was there and one look of Boomer's face made him look around warily. “What?”

“I don't know. My gut is screaming at me. I've got that feeling, and I can't shake it,” Boomer admitted to him as he set the kickstand and then unsaddled from the bike. “Two roving patrols around the fortress. And it is a fortress,” he warned. “We didn't see the gate either or how it opens.”

“Frack,” the lieutenant muttered, taking the sketches.

Ruffus looked up to the sky, as did Polly and Roger. They each looked in a different direction. That got Boomer going as his mind started to race. “
That's
what's been bugging me,” Boomer said with a different tone of voice as he too looked to the sky. “There isn't much wind. We didn't see any drones in the air over the fortress. Nothing.”

“Which doesn't mean anything.”

“No signs of animals either, though I did see an owl—a robot owl,” Roger said. He hefted his bow. “I took it out on our way in,” he stated.

Boomer nodded.

“So they might know we're coming?” the lieutenant asked with a frown.

“I don't know, sir. He took it out when it wasn't looking our way,” Boomer stated. Roger nodded as the lieutenant looked to him. “Only way we could get past without a major detour. And any detour could have been covered as well.”

“I see. Continue.”

“I keep remembering how we took out terrorists and groups in the sand box and elsewhere. Also how I hate being on the receiving end,” Boomer rumbled.

“The farm,” Roger breathed, paling and going stiff. He began to nod, eyes wide. “Yeah,” he said.

“I think we're talking ourselves into trouble,” the lieutenant said, but his eyes were also roving the cloud covered sky. “And I admit we can't see a damn thing if it's above the clouds,” he growled. “Damn it!”

“I know,” Boomer said.

“So, what do you recommend, Sergeant?”

“I … think we should …” He blinked then scowled. “Damn it, sir! Don't put this one on me!”

“You have the experience too, Boomer. I want to hear it,” Parker replied, brushing off the complaint. “You haven't answered.”

“I'd fall back, find another softer target or attrition them. Hit their patrols, take them out. It'd alert them, and they might send forces to reinforce the fortress. I don't know.” He frowned. “I'd definitely find some place to go to ground,” he looked around them, “and disperse our people in small packets. The less there are, the less the A.I. is likely to expend smart munitions on us. Clustering up is bad.”

The lieutenant frowned thoughtfully. Finally he nodded. “I see your points. I'm not thrilled about letting this target get away.”

Boomer could see Polly holding her breath.

“But I don't see how we can get in easily.”

“If we could catch one of their vehicles, we could use it as a battering ram,” Ruffus suggested. “Sending it in as a Trojan horse wouldn't work, the robots wouldn't let it in if it wasn't talking back. But …”

“We'd have to catch it intact. I don't see how we can do that,” Boomer replied, turning to the other Marine. “You saw them. They armored them with bits of metal. Armed them with turrets. They might be civilian vehicles, but they are armored tanks now or just about as far as we're concerned.”

“We can sacrifice one of our vehicles I suppose,” the lieutenant mused. “Send it in loaded with explosives?” He shook his head. “No, needs a driver. That's too much to ask of anyone.”

“If we got someone caught, they could get inside and get a look around,” Polly murmured. When they looked at her, she shook her head vehemently no. “Oh hell no, brainstorming,
not
volunteering,” she said definitely.

“Break out the Stingers,” Boomer called out over his shoulder. “Spread out!” he said.

“Diamond formation. Stingers on the tips,” the lieutenant added with a nod to the sergeant. “Keep an eye on the sky and the ground. Every other man watch one, then swap after five minutes.”

“We waiting for something?” Shaker asked.

“Yeah, trouble. With a capital T. It's there; I can feel it,” Boomer said as someone pointed to the east.

“Bird?” the lieutenant asked as everyone oriented on the sighting. Boomer looked at it frowning as he pulled the binoculars out of their pouch and lifted them to his eyes. “Please be so lucky,” he murmured. When he swore it was all the others needed.

“Incoming!” the lieutenant snarled, pointing to the sky. “Target West! Fire!”

Two Stinger operators oriented on the sighting. They frowned as they looked through their eye pieces until they got a clean sighting.