I sense . . .
. . . I shall continue my scan. I attempt a broadcast on the Brigade frequency. Something . . . . . . I am frustrated and embarrassed at the deficiencies in my systems. Twice now my Tracking Alert circuits have alerted me to low-level scans and twice now the circuits have generated a sequencer error-are the tracking circuits defective or are the error detection circuits?
Even though my power is low I find I am forced to experiment. If my fears are correct, an attack on my Base is imminent. But I do not know if the attack is hostile or benign. More information is required.
“Bolo! This is General Marius! Stop! I order you to stop.”
“It doesn’t seem to be paying attention to you, Marius. Well, at least the hangar doors were open,” Colonel Rheinhardt noted with a certain amount of humor. “Oh, dear. I do hope that it’s not going to-bother-that was my best staff car. Well, Marius, where’s it going? What order is it obeying?”
The other officer spluttered, “I don’t know! I swear, it obeyed me! I ordered it to stop and it did.”
“Well, apparently it has decided on insubordination.” A loud crunch indicated how the Bolo dealt with the base’s plasteel mesh fence.
“Well, Colonel,” there was some frustration in the voice, “if you can reason with it-”
“I shall try,” Colonel Rheinhardt replied calmly. “Krüger, bring that motorcycle-no, the one with the sidecar. That’s it. Good. Now, follow that Bolo.”
I detect a-perhaps my sensors are in error-my sensors report that I am being trailed by a vehicle emitting large quantities of carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide and various noxious oxides; my memory banks correlate my sensors’ observations with that of a primitive petroleum-burning sidecar motorcycle. I detect no threat. The vehicle is fully occupied, with a driver and a passenger.
“Pull up alongside the thing,” Rheinhardt ordered. “Look out, it’s turning. Follow it. No, right. Turn right.
“Gods, what a monster. It must be four, no five meters tall. And look at those tracks. What a beauty,” Rheinhardt muttered to himself. “Driver, pull up closer, there’s some writing there and I can’t make it out.”
The driver glanced nervously at Rheinhardt but the Colonel’s attention was concentrated solely on the monstrous Bolo which, while mowing over trees and crossing ditches, seemed set to pull ahead of them.
“Hmm. Bolo Mark XVI Model C, DAK,” Rheinhardt regarded the corroded identity plate welded to the side of the moving monster. “DAK, DAK,” he mused, wondering at the designation, “Das Afrika Korps!”
The Bolo stopped so suddenly that the pursuing motorcycle zipped past it before the driver could react.
“Das Afrika Korps, awaiting orders,” a rusted speaker boomed, its sounds growing more recognizable as it continued, “Das Afrika Korps to Command, awaiting orders.”
Rheinhardt’s face drained of all color, but his voice was neutral as he told the driver, “I shall dismount now. You stay here.”
Standing at arm’s length, Karl Rheinhardt repeated, “Bolo Mark XVI Model C, DAK, Das Afrika Korps, report!”
“Bolo Das Afrika Korps reports. 35% of non-volatile memory functional, 73% of volatile memory functional, significant errors encountered in processors A, B, C, also in the data sequencer and the tracking sequencer. Significant errors in non-volatile memory have required this unit to use the default activation password. Command priority override is in effect.
“Mobility limited by improperly tensioned tracks. Several track pads are below specification and subject to immediate failure. Anti-aircraft guns locked in 22deg. elevation. One infinite repeater functional for no more than 120 seconds cumulative fire. One Hellbore possibly functional.
“All other equipment either discharged, disabled, or removed. Power is available only from batteries, fusion reactor inoperative, containment field compromised. Enemy activity detected on tracking systems. When is depot maintenance scheduled?”
“Not until after we have dealt with the enemy, I’m afraid,” Rheinhardt replied.
“I shall not be able to perform at peak efficiency.”
“I suspect that whatever efficiency you can muster will be more than sufficient,” Colonel Rheinhardt responded, turning back to gaze at the distant compound and his crumpled staff car. His steady features momentarily formed a frown as he detected an approaching groundcar.
“You got it to stop! Excellent!” Marius called as he jumped out. “Did it say what it was doing?”
Rheinhardt raised an eyebrow. “I had not yet asked.” He turned to the Bolo, “Bolo, explain your previous actions.”
“This unit detected tracking alerts and required triangulation data.”
Rheinhardt nodded his head. “There, you see, it’s on the job already.”
“Well, the sooner we can get it started, the better,” Marius grumbled.
“Commander, I require additional information,” the Bolo said when Rheinhardt returned to the appropriated hangar several days later.
The Colonel raised a brow, a movement not detected by the Bolo. “What do you wish to know?”
“You have outlined the current situation: Noufrance holds the disputed territory of Alasec while Bayern holds Renaloir. You plan to utilize this unit in concert with regular ground forces to gain possession of the other territory for Bayern.”
“That is correct.”
“You have indicated that the Noufrench forces possess equipment similar to your own, with the exception of this unit-”
“Again, correct.”
“I require information on the origin of this situation.”
“Why?”
“A broad understanding of current affairs is every soldier’s responsibility.”
“I suppose it will do no harm,” Rheinhardt allowed. “I have time available now.”
“Is a computer hook-up possible?”
“Your new circuits are being constructed. They are not yet ready,” Rheinhardt said. “I can give you the information verbally.”
He perched himself on the cleaner part of a workbench and began, “Three hundred years ago colonists of French and German extraction seeded this planet with terraforming microbes and settled on the rich alluvial plains of this continent. Existence was peaceful, with the Noufrench living on the Western side of the great Neurhein and we Bayerische living on the Eastern side. The plan was that our two colonies would expand in opposite directions as the terraforming microbes spread across the continent and the world.
“You may not be aware that, barring completely barren planets, all planets suitable for human colonization will already have an ecosystem of their own. Terraforming microbes allow us to convert planets for human habitation. Our records indicate that we brought in several Bolos converted for earth-moving purposes.”
“That section of my permanent memory is only mildly damaged,” the Bolo said.
“However,” the colonel continued with an understanding nod, “shortly after the first settlements were established, a virulent illness broke out amongst the settlers. We were convinced that it was the result of illegal gene-cloning by the Noufrench and they were convinced that it was a deliberate attack on our part.”
Colonel Rheinhardt glanced consideringly at the Bolo and continued, “Whatever the reasons, all crops failed, our terraforming microbes nearly died out, and the colonists starved. This was the beginning of our conflicts. The ensuing depopulation through plague, famine, and military operations brought about the loss of large sectors of skilled personnel, particularly those skilled in genetic engineering, adaptive agriculture, and metal-working.”
“You say that both sides blamed the other. Was there any reason to suspect a third party?”
“No. There are no humans within sixty parsecs,” Rheinhardt said.
“What of the Bolos?”
“From what we can gather from the remaining records, there were only three or four. They must not have been in very good shape because we recovered one entry indicating that three were laid up for extensive maintenance,” Rheinhardt said. “Probably for that reason, the maintenance depot and surrounding settlement was lost early in the conflict and no one remembered where it was. Rumor soon had it that Depot was only folklore.”
“Do your records indicate if any Bolos survived?”
“No, we assumed that all Bolos were lost in Depot.”
“That would not be logical,” Das Afrika Korps replied. “All functioning Bolos would be on sentry duty.”
“Good military sense,” Rheinhardt agreed. “But you Bolos were not employed in a military action-you were brought here for civilian operations-and so any objections were probably overridden. I suspect that the Bolos were worked until they dropped.”
“That is a possible but regrettable conclusion,” the Bolo said. “Do you recall who commanded the original settlement? That part of my data was destroyed.”
Rheinhardt shook his head. “I recall that one was a military man and that there’d been some war fought recently against an alien incursion-the Jyncji Dominance-but most of what we have from those days is hearsay. The central computing data library was destroyed in the first confrontation. All we have left is what we could recover from outlying computer modes and hardcopy-books.”
“Of course,” the Bolo said, “a resource of military importance too valuable to let any one side possess.” The Bolo paused. “How is it you managed to hold on to Depot?”
Rheinhardt raised his left hand and absently examined his nails as he answered. “We discovered the Depot when we tried to set up a minefield in the area of the last offensive.”