“General,” Veck said. “Is this about something I should be aware of?”
“Oh, sorry,” General Kiel said. He moved over to the car and routed the communication from the Bolo through the car’s receiver so Veck could be a part of the conversation with the Bolo.
It turned out that Kal had been the one who had brought them away from their dinner and out here to the front. The old Bolo had detected certain changes in enemy communications traffic and had observed changes in enemy deployment. The Bolo had a “hunch.”
“What is it?” General Kiel had asked.
Veck had been on the verge of laughing at the idea of a Bolo having a hunch. But he didn’t, since General Kiel was taking what the Bolo was saying very seriously.
The Bolo believed there was a high probability that the Kezdai were alarmed at the Mark XXXIV’s anti-ship capabilities, and that those fears of the new Bolos was going to push the Kezdai into making a desperate offensive to take the rest of the southern continent.
“I have no doubt the Kezdai are worried about my Bolos,” Veck said. “Shows they have some smarts.”
General Kiel nodded. “If Kal’s prediction is correct, we’ll have a massive influx of ships into local space just before the offensive begins, both to support the offensive, and to distract the Mark XXXIVs.”
“To allow the Kezdai ground forces freedom to act,” Veck said. “Makes sense.”
“Exactly,” General Kiel said.
The general thanked Kal and sent him back on patrol, then the two climbed back into the car and headed for the forward command bunker.
“Do your Bolos have the firepower to deal with the influx of ships Kal predicts?” Kiel asked after they got under way. “And still fight a ground war at the same time? They’re so damned new, I don’t know much about them.”
“No one does, General,” Veck said. “The specs on those Hellrails are extremely classified.”
“And just how do you think I should plan our defense,” the General asked, his gaze boring into Veck, “when I don’t know what my own weapons are capable of?”
Veck laughed. “Good point, General. When we get to forward command I’ll pull all the specs up for you. But trust me, those Hellrails on the new Bolos can take anything out of low orbit. We can fight on the ground while taking care of the sky.”
The general nodded and said nothing more.
But Veck had a few questions of his own. “Just how dependable are your Bolo’s ideas about the coming attack?”
“As sound as they come,” the general said. “Better than mine.”
Veck said nothing to that. There was nothing he could say to a superior officer. As far as Veck was concerned, following a Bolo’s hunch was just plain stupid. He was going to have to keep his eye on General Kiel. The old guy clearly wasn’t playing with a full deck.
Two
Lieutenant David Orren waited for his Bolo to arrive aboard the Cannon Beach by lying on his bunk and staring at the ceiling of the small cabin, remembering. He hadn’t been able to finish the letter to his old friend, Veck, soon to be his commander. Writing him a friendly letter just didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. So instead he remembered. It took his mind away from the slow minutes of waiting.
He remembered the good times with Veck. And a few of the bad. But since his Bolo was coming shortly, the story Orren kept coming back to was the time he and Veck, when he was nine and Veck was twelve, stole a Metradyne 6000 Combine.
He could still recall the incredible feeling of awe when they emerged from between the corn rows and saw the metal monster, the massive blades shining in the hot afternoon sun. The huge tires were two stories tall, and a shining ladder climbed up the side to the cab perched on the machine four stories in the air. This machine was so big, powered by a fusion engine, it could do an acre of crops in just under ten minutes and store the grain for hours at that rate.
At first they had only thought of climbing up to the cab. Orren could still remember the feeling of power that came over him as they climbed the side of the building-sized machine.
But when they were inside and Veck thought they should just start it up, Orren had gotten afraid. Not of getting caught, but of the power of the machine they were sitting inside. Veck had figured that just starting it wouldn’t hurt anything.
Orren hadn’t been so sure, but he’d gone along, as he usually had done. Following Veck was something he was very, very used to doing.
When the massively powerful machine had started up and rumbled across the field, he felt both wonderful and afraid. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of control that filled him. And when Veck let him drive the monster, he decided then and there he would command a Bolo someday.
But he also knew, deep inside, as they parked the machine and climbed down, that he wasn’t ready to command such power as even a simple combine. He wasn’t ready for the responsibility. It had been a very clear thought for such a young age, but it had stuck with him over all the years. With great power came great responsibility.
Lying on his bunk, waiting, thinking about the coming Bolo, he hoped he was ready now for such responsibility.
Luckily, in this case he was going to have help. That combine had been just a machine, run by two boys. The responsibility to not hurt something or someone, to not drive over a neighbor’s house, was entirely his and Veck’s. But with a Bolo there was another mind involved. Another thinking entity to keep him from screwing up. To keep the awesome power in check and make sure it was focused on the enemy, where it belonged.
That thought calmed him a little.
Orren closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to that special summer of the combine. At that point he must have dozed because the next thing he remembered, there was a knocking on his door.
“Lieutenant,” the voice said. “The Bolo is here.”
* * *
The Command Compartment of Kal was home to General Kiel, almost more so than any house or apartment he had ever lived in. It was small, just big enough for him to stretch out on a couch. Besides the couch, it also had a command chair with safety harnesses, and a command board with multiple screens so he could see anything going on outside the Bolo.
He had spent more time in this room since getting Kal than any other one place. It was as if he belonged inside Kal.
At the moment Kal was on patrol, doing what General Kiel called the “drunkard’s walk.” That was a random course to discourage orbital bombardment by Kezdai spearfall. So far, the night had been a quiet one, but Kal was certain that was about to change.
And change drastically.
Kiel leaned back in his command chair and put his hands behind his head, watching the silent jungle move past outside the Bolo. “You know, it’s not often anymore we have some quiet time like this.”
“This is unusual,” Kal agreed. “But I have a concern that you might be safer at forward command post.”
Kiel laughed. “If the Kezdai attack, there’s no place on this planet I’m going to be safer than right here.”
“Statistically not accurate,” Kal said. “All Bolo are targets of the Kezdai.”
Again Kiel laughed. “All right, I’ll give you that. Let me rephrase my answer. I feel safer here. Besides, there’s no better place for me to observe the coming battle and direct troops.”
“Accurate,” Kal said simply.
“You think I’m intruding here?” Kiel asked the Bolo. “Afraid I’m going to second-guess some of your decisions?”
“I have no such fears,” Kal said. “I was only concerned for your safety, as is my duty. If you must know, I actually enjoy having you in the command chair.”
“Thank you,” Kiel said, relaxing even more as Kal plowed through the jungle. Outside the terrain looked rough and uneven. Inside, thanks to the anti-grav around the Command Compartment, the ride was as smooth as a flat road.
“So what do you think of the new Mark XXXIVs?” Kiel asked.
“I am not fully briefed on their exact specifications,” Kal said. “But they appear to be quite capable.”
“And their firepower?” Kiel asked. “You know anything about that?”
“Formidable,” Kal said simply.
Kiel knew, from his briefing with Veck, what the specs were on the XXXIV’s Hellrails, but he wanted to know what Kal knew. “Give me your best guess on what the Hellrails can do?”
“My limited understanding,” Kal said, “puts the firepower of the Hellrails at 90 megatons per second, and a firing rate of one to one-point-two minutes per rail, depending on the thermal coupling from the plasma, the cooling mix used, and the exact efficiency of the cooling system.”