“Understood. I will advise you of my status.”
My Commander leaves. Dault climbs to my turret, carrying Shiva. I ask the dog if he will agree to this procedure. He barks an affirmative. He is a brave fighter. My Commander’s parent joins Dault. The procedure begins. I wait.
—15—
“Easy, boy, easy.”
Brad could hardly bear to look after completing the surgery he’d already been required to perform, but he kept his hand on Shiva’s neck and continued to murmur softly to him.
“All done.” Dr. Tennyson’s voice was dead flat.
He risked a look and gulped.
There wasn’t much left of Shiva. His skull sprouted hardware and leads that fed directly into the Bolo’s psychotronic system. His legs were similarly tapped into the fighting machine’s systems. His body . . .
Brad had suspended him permanently in a steel cradle, to help cushion him from battle shocks. It was attached directly to the Bolo’s internal frame at each rib. Effectively, Shiva was now part of the Bolo, which is what Gonner’d said was required.
Dr. Tennyson’s voice cut into his awareness. “I’ve hooked his digestive system through here, to void waste. He’ll require intravenous feeding—if the Bolo lives through the battle. The spinal block should be wearing off. I’ve put in a pain block, directly through his brain. He’ll be able to function without the distraction of pain. If I’ve made all the proper connections, Shiva’s now tied directly into the Bolo’s psychotronic circuitry. All we have to do now is see if this crazy plan works.”
On the Bolo’s view screens, Brad caught a glimpse of the pitched battle being waged at the edge of town. Another house went up in a fireball.
“Gonner, how about it?”
The Bolo spoke. “Shiva, move right paw. Stop.”
“Well?”
“My Hellbore guns and energy repeaters track satisfactorily. The arrangement is not efficient, but it is functional.”
Brad probably should have whooped in satisfaction. All he felt was grief and fear.
“Well, that’s that. Let’s go.” Dr. Tennyson glanced around the Bolo’s passenger compartment, then climbed out. Brad hesitated.
“Bradley?” Dr. Tennyson called down. “You’re delaying the Bolo.”
He started for the ladder. Shiva whined and tried to thrash inside the steel cradle. Brad returned to his friend and laid his hand on the dog’s neck again. It was just about the only spot of fur left on him Brad could touch.
“Easy, boy. I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted his head. “Get clear, Dr. Tennyson. We have a battle to fight. Gonner, please inform your Commander that we’re ready for battle.”
“Understood. Welcome aboard, sir.”
Overhead, the hatch sealed with a faint hiss of pneumatics.
Brad strapped into the observer’s chair and maintained contact with his dog’s fur.
“Let’s go.” He tried to smile. “Dog-Gonner ready for battle.”
Shiva emitted a faint whine of eagerness.
The Bolo pivoted and cleared a path out of town, taking off the corner of one burning house to gain maneuvering room. Brad glued his gaze to the observation screens and tightened his hand through Shiva’s fur.
“Go get ’em, boy.”
As the Enemy Yavac units came into focus on the observation screen, Bradley said as offhandedly as he could, “Did I ever tell you about the moment I started falling in love with Kalima Tennyson, Gonner? She punched me in the nose . . .”
—16 —
From behind her hastily-dug entrenchment, Kalima watched the advancing Deng through Gina Lin’s survey lens. The distance was telemetered automatically from the size-scale comparison computer. Fred Howlett had tried using an active-system laser range finder and the Deng had locked onto it and blown it up. Fred hadn’t survived. The passive-system survey scanner was far more primitive equipment, but it was effective and kept the Deng from locking in on her position.
The main assault force had struck through the trees on the ridge and now rolled down across their defensive perimeter. Over on the edge of town, where the diversionary force had struck first, they were losing ground in enormous bites. Several buildings—homes, the school—were fiercely ablaze.
“We’re not holding,” she muttered. “Gonner, where are you?”
The Bolo had reported battle readiness more than five minutes previously. Meanwhile, the Deng had blasted through the barricade of heavy equipment they’d set up. Several Class C Yavac Scouts and some of the forward infantry had fallen into acid pits; but the heavier Class B and Class One Yavacs which followed them avoided the carefully laid traps. Infantry units, also skirting the remaining acid pits, were pouring through the gaps in their defenses. Fighting down there was hand-to-hand—and their side was dying.
Trees at the crest of the hill swayed and toppled. Kalima held her breath . . .
Hellbore guns thundered above the deafening sound of Yavac fire. The first salvo had little effect. On the second blast, a Yavac was hit directly in the turret. The Deng unit exploded in a brilliant fireball. A ragged cheer went up. Gonner sped forward. Rear infantry units went down under a blaze of lethal anti-personnel fire. The massive Hellbores tracked, corrected slightly, and belched fire again. Another Yavac unit exploded.
The rearmost Yavac pivoted its guns and fired back. Gonner rocked under the concussion, but kept coming. Other heavy Class One Yavacs turned and blasted the Bolo with deadly fire. Gonner’s purple-black flintsteel hull began to glow, as his energy panels attempted to absorb the murderous energy beams and convert them to useful battle energy. Blue fire streaked out from his turret’s infinite repeaters. A Yavac Class One caught the blast at its turret juncture and blew open. Fire exploded out of it. Kalima bit her lips. She could see pieces of Gonner’s ablative armor blown clear as Yavac Class B units turned and added their fire to that of the remaining Yavac Heavies. Gonner charged down the ridge toward town on a relentless, unstoppable course that took him past one dying Yavac after another. Several units retreated fatally into open acid pits behind their positions as they attempted to avoid the onrushing Bolo.
“Look! They’re scattering! They’re breaking formation!”
Dogs broke from hiding all along the enemy flank. Deng infantry went down under snarling canine jaws. Kalima glued her gaze to the surveyor’s lenses and snarled in satisfaction. The dogs chewed off legs and arms, bit into unarmored, hairy Deng bellies. Weird, alien screams floated down the street. The Hellbores barked again. A final Yavac Heavy died. Gonner turned on the smaller Class B and C Yavacs and blasted them with brilliant blue repeater fire. On the opposite flank, colonists rose behind barricades and earthen embankments and fired small arms into the mass of panicked Deng. Kalima fired her own rifle with lethal effect.
The army stampeded toward the remaining camouflaged acid pits, trying to retreat the way they’d come and stumbling into the lethal traps they’d avoided on their way in.
“They’re going for ’em!” Kalima yelled. “They’re going right for ’em!”
Within ten minutes, there were only scattered wounded left of the Deng invasion force. Most of their infantry had plunged into the acid pits. The heavily armored Yavacs were burnt-out hulks—or dissolved bits of metal at the bottom of the acid pits. On the forested slope—now denuded, deeply scarred from the terrible battle—Yavacs still burned fiercely. Colonists rose on all sides, cheering spontaneously.
Kalima rose on shaky legs and started down the street. She gripped a rifle in one hand, her radio link to Gonner in the other.
“Gonner, report.”
“Enemy neutralized. I have sustained serious damage.”
Heart in her mouth, Kalima closed the distance to the enormous war machine.
New gouges tore into Gonner’s war hull. One of his treads was missing. He must’ve sustained damage to it and blown it clear. Anti-personnel guns along his right flank were twisted, ruined. His turret was badly gouged, canted on its swivel.
“Unit Six Seven Zero GWN and Unit Shiva reporting, as ordered. Bradley Dault requests assistance disengaging. My passenger compartment and hatch have sustained damage.”
“Bradley? My God—is Bradley in there with you?”
“He refused to leave. Unit Shiva required Bradley Dault’s presence to maintain battle-ready efficiency.”
She understood, in a flash of insight. Poor, terrified dog . . .
“Gonner, how can I get to him?”
“The pneumatics on my turret hatch no longer function. You will require an explosive charge to clear the hatch from my hull. The battle damage which penetrated into the passenger compartment is not sufficiently large to extricate an adult human.”
Kalima swallowed hard, then called Gina Lin over. She explained what was needed.
“Sure. Take, uh, maybe ten minutes.”
“Gonner, what other damage have you sustained?”
“An explosion through previous battle damage has destroyed my backup emergency power cells. I am operating on residual charge from my hull-plate grid. I cannot discover any method of repairing this damage in the time which remains before this charge drains. I estimate another fifteen minutes before critical failure occurs. Unit Shiva has sustained fatal injury to spleen and kidneys as result of shrapnel damage. We request permission to retire from the field as soon as Bradley Dault has been safely extricated from my passenger compartment.”