Toy Wars (6 page)

“Gopher 124, what was your assignment for the last two standard days?”
I could have gotten the information directly from the net, but truth be told I was lonely for another voice.

“I was assigned to be transported to
S
ector Alpha-4 by rail.”
Its voice was cold and mechanical with no animation in it.
“That assignment was still being processed as of forty-eight hours ago.
At fourteen-sixteen and thirty-seven seconds yesterday, L+13y230d, I was given a
LAN
order to help untie
Tommy Tank
unit L1423.
After completing this task I was ordered, once again by a net command, to assume a defensive posture with a threat axis of
23
degrees
east of
north.
After
ninety-six
minutes and fifteen seconds I was ordered, by cascade,
to
d
ig trenches from grid
fourteen sixteen to twelve thirty
.
I spent the next twenty-
six point three hours
digging earth
before ordered
to move local flora to locatio-”

“Elaborate on local flora
—
specific type.”

“Current designation for flora is bloodweed
,
”
t
he unit offered.

“That is all.
Thank you.”

“Null command.”

“End program.
”
So literal
.

Bloodweed
—
a maroon, palm-like plant, with broad leaves that often reached
3
meters in length.
It made for excellent cover
—
now in more ways than one.
I walked over the berm of earth to the nearest of the large bloodweed fronds.
I snapped a ragged
15-
centimeter tip off one of the thick
,
spongy leaves.
It rewarded me instantly by oozing a dark ruby sap onto my hairy palm.

“I want four Tami dol
ls rubbing bloodweed sap over the balloon units.”
I went back to the tree I was helping to move
and forgot about the balloons.

The
rest of the
earthmoving job I wanted
took
three
more
days
of
heavy labor
.
T
he entire troop compliment bent their backs and moved quite a large volume of dirt, rocks
,
and local flora at my behest.
We clogged so many filters the
Nurse Nan
s requisition
ed
another full allocation from Six.

When I declared the task complete
my
once colorful units were coated with a vermilion layer of dust, a boring and basic color from the earth itself.
The color tweaked something in my sump.

“All units into defensive positions,” I ordered.
I walked
2.6
kilometers in the
only threat axis I could envision
before turning back.
I saw nothing.
That
’s
an exaggeration.
All vestiges of the former battle had been removed and in its place a
gentle horseshoe-shaped berm of dirt
, sparsely vegetated
, with the open end point
ed
toward me
sat innocuously
.
My entire
troop hid
behind the tiny hillock of the red soil,
a
natural looking copse of crimson oaks and a rather large pair of boulders.
The net informed me that they could target me quite well.
To an opposing
force
, this illusion of an easy march hid a horrific death.

Returning to my post, even when I knew exactly where each of my garrison waited
,
I couldn’t tar
get them but one time in four
—
all because of a little dust.

“Teddy 1499 to Six.”

“Six.”

“Theater
-
wide proposal:
All units should rub themselves in earth or bloodweed sap.
The red color matches the earth and makes units
75
percent more difficult to target.”

“Proposal received.
Evaluation
87
percent
.
Proposal will be transmitted as standard orders.
Six out.”
Six
’s
appreciation lacked warmth but then Six had never been effusive.

Over the
few days
we settled into a rhythm.
I sent around
Nurse Nan
s with their toolboxes for preventative maintenance.
Weapons were broken down, a squad at a time, cleaned, oiled
,
and reassembled
.
I personally checked each unit
’
s command and
control transceivers, our links to the
LAN
and WAN, and their double and triple redundant backups
.
Not one unit reported
any transmission glitches.
I then started ordering units to shut down on a rotating basis.
I couldn’t see the sense in making units sit and wear out hydraulics with tiny scanning movements when there was nothing to scan.

“
Tank Company Delta reporting,” reported my repl
acements on the fourth day.
The small tanks rolled roughly off their flat cars, bouncing on to the earth wearing their
stark green, tan
,
and grey colors
.
After my days among my dirty troops, these units’ new paint glowed
obscenely.
The colors all but p
oi
nted a huge arrow at them saying “Shoot me!”

“Delta Compa
n
y, hold and await orders.
Squad B
ravo, b
ring trenching tools to the
unloading
zone.”
Ten waist-high gophers arrived with their spades in very short order.
“Dig up dirt and spread it lightly over Delta Company.”
I heard the order echoed and the hyperactive gophers start spraying earth around with abandon.
In the dozen minutes
it took
to get the
tanks
well
and truly dulled up
I discussed deployment with the tank commander.
When the impromptu camouflage hid the newcomers well enough
, I ordered,
“Delta C
ompany, deploy.”
I watched the extra firepower I needed fill in the gaps in my lines.
Now, w
ith no fewer than
63
percent of units active at any time
and a continuous air patrol of eight to ten
carmine
and
silver balloon clouds
,
w
e were ready for anything that could be thrown at us by the local environment.
The fauna didn’t stand a chance.

Now that my troops had completed the garrison I wanted, I realized jus
t what garrison duty entailed.
I actually worked out a simple equation
—
Garrisoning = Boredom.
We waited for four days before a cloud of red appeared on the horizon.

The cloud showed long before o
ur
flyer
s saw even a single fauna
.
I ran through my general plan.
I hoped I hadn’t missed anything.
The responsibility for this battle lay entirely with me.
Could I deliver a victory?

My fluid pressure went into the danger zone as the fauna units became visible to my aerial scouts and eventually
to me.
The animals tallied
5,412
strong
, w
ell over
five times my own
combat
strength.
My hillock of soil and
a little
red dirt didn’t seem like very much now.

I watched the tactical net closely as the
mass of
an
imals marched down on us.
They were advancing just to the right leg of our crescent
-
shaped hill.
As soon as I saw the total force I made my decision.

“Tactical command:
Left
-
most unit hold position.
All other units close up
12
percent to the unit on your left.
Reposition and hold.”
This would keep the right
-
most units from hanging out where they could be seen by the approaching fauna.
“All
units hold fire until ordered.”

The animals came forward with
a flying wedge of colorful teddies in front.
I
f I didn’t have the tactical data from my flying spies, I might have made the deadly decision that I only needed to deal with a hundred or so units up front.

“Flame
-
thrower units
,
shift to the
left
side of the line.
As the front row passes the rig
ht flank I want you to create a horizontal
zone of fire.

“Snipers, at the first flame, pick off as many elephant units as you can.
All remaining balloons launch as soon as firing starts.

“Elephants
and balloons
, allocate your entire
fire on the opposite side of the flaming units.

“All other units
,
pour fire into your assigned sector
of the fire sack
.
Don’t stop until ordered or there are no more fauna to destroy.”

The fauna marched dia
gonally across the mouth of our berm.
My plan all hinged on an age
-
old
Human
adage
—
divide and conquer.
As the lead units
passed my r
ight flank, Armageddon started
as
a
flaming wall
roared up from my left in the center of a company of tanks.

The burning v
ehicles scattered in chaos.
Our tanks
poured
cannon and machine gun fire
into the killing zone
between the legs
of the horseshoe.
Killing zone was too kind a word for it.
Animals exploded, ammunition in damaged units cooked off, black smoke poured off of units on fire.

Normally I would not
get
involved in the killing end of the fight, as my program was to direct, but there were too many targets for the troops to engage, so I lent a paw.
Sure, I was green, but it couldn’t hurt
—
besides, it seemed exciting.
My M16 assault rifle prove
d
itself a sturdy weapon, even if it didn’t measure up to the more powerful
Tommy Tank
projectiles.
I learned the skills quickly enough.
After the first dozen bullets went anywhere but at my intended target, I found a reasonable enough proficiency.
My shots rarely missed their targets, but they didn’t always register as a kill.
This puzzled me until I noticed that my fellow units would hit a
Tommy Tank
right at the base of the weapon to register a kill.
I shifted my aim and began to register more regular successes.
Hitting
t
eddies at the base of the neck and elephants right where the tail intersected the hind legs
also proved to be a kill shot
.

I relayed this information back to the rest of my brigade and our kill rate went up significantly.
I figure
I alone felled
eighteen or twenty.
I think our success was what the Humans would call a bloodbath.
Granted
,
we had no blood in our bodies, but most of us
housed
a minimum of
6
liters of miscellaneous fluids
—
hydraulic, cleansing, lubricating.
I saw that the animals were in truth the same.
The red landscape was darkened with oil and liquid
seeping from smoldering corpses of this first grouping.