[NSW-Fic] Automatic

[machievelli]

This was written back in the early 80s. As a veteran of the Vietnam era, I always thought being blamed for what my government had done was stupid. So I combined two different sutiations with this one.

 

One of the standard themes in science fiction is the machine gone mad. But what if it wasn't the machine's fault?

 

Automatic

 

The lander hung in the air, defying all the laws of gravity as it settled toward the hill.

 

Professor Rumpsfeld, Sociologist and commander of the mission, was almost bouncing in excitement. First contact was the dream of every explorer, and this would make his career. As the lander settled in, Rumpsfeld threw off his seat belt. "Right! Mangioni, Cochrane, I want-"

 

"Not yet, Professor." Rumpsfeld spun to glare at the slight man that had stood on the other end of the crew compartment. He was the only one in camoflauge rather than plain gray. "The defensive perimeter has to be laid out first."

 

"We don't have time to-"

 

"Standard Operating procedure, Professor. No one leaves the ship until I give the okay." He smiled, but his eyes were hard. “Please let me do my job here, Professor.”

 

Rumpsfeld hissed. "Well, get on with it!"

 

“Thank you.” The small man picked up the assault rifle, smiled again, and went to the hatch. He popped it with practiced ease, and lifted the computer prompter to his lips as he stepped down. "Position is a hilltop, barren for 100 meters as specified." He continued to speak as he became the first human to step on this planet.

 

Rumpsfeld glared at him. Of all the pompous, overbearing-

 

"We're ready whenever Sergeant Compton gives the word," his assistant, Professor Tanya Marquez reported.

 

Rumpsfeld just glared out the port. "Look at him." Rumpsfeld sneered. "The first human on a new planet. Does he care? Does he feel the thrill? No! All he cares about are his damn guns, and how many of the natives he can kill before we stop him!"

 

Tanya sighed inwardly. "We should be able to work with him, Professor. He's not over bearing or insulting like some soldiers."

 

"No that makes him worse!" He was triumphant. "The ones that growl and snarl and sneer are just more honest. His kind will sit there smiling as they kill you."

 

Tanya sighed. Rumpsfeld was as hung up on the subject of the military as Compton was on weapons placement. At least Compton's fixation had a use.

"Professor Rumpsfeld, this is Compton. If you can assign four men to help me, I can have the four cardinal guns first. Once they are placed and active, I can allow the rest of the team off in an hour, and the defense system up and on line by first light."

 

"And if I don't?"

 

Compton paused, touching a flower. "Otherwise, I do it all myself, and you will all have to stay in the lander until about noon, or one o'clock local time."

 

"Very well." Rumpsfeld looked to Tanya. "See? He's giving me orders! Do what I want or else!"

 

"Professor, one more thing." Compton cut in.

 

"What now?"

 

"If you want to insult me, either shut off the communications console, or put it on all call, so everyone can hear it."

 

The weapons were in sealed casings the size of large steamer trunks, and had their own built in anti-gravs so that even a child could have pushed them out. Four of them marked with an obvious I to IV had been moved out and set to Compton's exacting standards. The men that set them in position 20 meters from the center merely pushed a button and the panels folded out, revealing a twin barreled gun. As the panels dropped, small sensors rose, and as if they had come alive, the guns began tracking moving objects.

 

Once Compton had those four guns slaved to his prompter, everyone came out and began setting up the domes. There were the two large domes at the center, which held the lander-power plant, and the main lab/mess hall. Then the eight smaller domes, which housed sleeping quarters and the security center. While everyone else worked, Compton went around emplacing the other weapons. The standard perimeter was sixteen guns, the first four actually butted up against the domes themselves, and the rest in a clock-like circle which gave all around fire. Except for the first four, none had been activated yet.

 

II

Compton sat at the console in the security center dome, assuring that all of the power systems were active. Behind him was the sealed control panel for the defense system. He had been better than his word. The sun was half an hour from dawn, and every one of the weapons had been emplaced. All he needed to do was hook up the panel and he was finished.

 

He lifted the panel setting it in place, socketing the power leads to it as Tanya came in.

 

"How much longer?"

 

"Ten minutes or so. Why are you so impatient? I thought that was Professor Rumpsfeld's forte."

 

"You have to forgive the Professor. His brother was on Volund a couple of years ago, when the Navy took out the capitol city. The Professor became a firm pacifist and anti-military after that."

 

"I wonder if he ever read Volund files. For that matter, have you?"

 

"No. Why?" She opened her pack and pulled out a thermos. "Coffee, Mr. Compton?"

 

"Thank you." He took the cup and sighed happily at the taste. "Mess hall set up already?"

 

"No. I brought a thermos down from the ship."

 

"And you shared it with me." She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Compton had been unfailingly polite during the four month trip here. "You have earned your place in heaven, Professor Marquez. I wonder, would my wife approve?” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Probably."

 

"Tanya, please. Wife? I thought all military men sent on these missions were single."

 

"They are. My wife is dead. Five years now."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"You should be!" He used his key to unlock the case. "She would have liked you. Treated you like a sister…" His words petered out as the case opened.

Rumpsfeld stormed in. "When can we work in peace, Compton?" He waved toward the outside. "Those damn guns track every movement! We're getting nervous thinking they will kill us all!"

 

"They won't be fully active unless I press this button." He motioned to the prompter where a red button blinked. "I have more important problems. Who the hell ordered a Mark 7 MEBA for this mission?"

 

"MEBA?"

 

"Main Engagement Battery, Automatic. The primary control system for all of the weapons." Compton pointed at the panel he had just opened. "That machine right there."

 

Rumpsfeld snorted. He waved his hand as if the question had no importance. "I ordered it."

 

"On whose authority?"

 

"On my authority as mission commander, and thanks to the offices of Captain Donahue of the Navy, and with the agreement of the man you replaced, Sergeant O’Neil. I told him I didn't want more than one of You to deal with, and he suggested the Mark 7 over the other panels. Donahue ordered the supply officer to have it loaded."

 

"Fine." Compton growled. He looked at an empty slot in the box. "Where are the cards?"

 

"The what?"

 

"The mag cards." Compton snapped his fingers. "The control system needs a mag card to operate."

 

"I have that right here." Rumpsfeld tapped his pocket.

 

"Give them here."

 

"No. I will not have you jeopardize my mission by arming those guns."

 

Compton sighed, then he tapped his prompter. "Pilot officer O'Malley, prep the ship. We're leaving."

 

"What are you doing!" Rumpsfeld screamed.

 

"Regulations concerning first contact situations, Number 17, paragraph 9, titled Military responsibility. "All weapons and their control systems are the direct responsibility of the Military personnel assigned to such missions." Paragraph 10, "No other person on the mission is allowed to countermand or control such weapons until such time as a successful peaceful first contact has been made." Paragraph 3, "In the event that the senior military personnel believes that the mission has failed, or has been placed in an insurmountable military position, he has sole authority to abort said mission. On his order, all personnel will return to the landing vessel and then to the nearest operational Naval base.

 

"If you will not give me the cards, I cannot protect the base. That in my judgment, means that this entire base is now in danger, and I have the authority to abort the mission. You can have your way, and keep the cards. Just get on the ship and we'll go home."

 

"I'll have your stripes, you jingoistic myrmidon!"

 

"If a Court of Inquiry decides that I have overstepped my authority, you could. But it will be six months before they send another mission here even then."

 

Rumpsfeld sneered. "You're bluffing."

 

Compton picked up the prompter, and both of the scientists head the click on their wrist communicators. "All hands, stop what you are doing and board the ship."

 

Rumpsfeld threw the packet at the soldier as the other team members began to query the order. Compton caught it, ripping open the paper. He held up the card.

 

"Where is the other one."

 

"That was all there were."

 

Compton sighed, then pulled the keyboard over. He typed a quick passage, then pointed. "Sign that."

 

"Sign what?"

 

"I am sending a message to Command once the system is active that supply at Roswell Base hasn't been doing their jobs. With only one mag card, there is a chance that we will lose control of the system."

 

"And that would be your fault."

 

"No. I didn't sign for it, Rumpsfeld. You did. I wouldn't have taken the mission if I had known they were sending a Mark 7. I had enough of them at Tanith."

 

Rumpsfeld seemed to swell. "Then we both know exactly what kind of monster you are, Compton." He stepped forward, added his signature, and stormed out.

 

Tanya was aghast. Tanith was the darkest point in the military's history. "How could I have been so wrong?" she asked.

 

The soldier slid in the mag card and tapped in his code. The panel hummed, and sixteen guns now tracked the perimeter. A soft seductive female voice said, "All systems now active. Please input operational parameters."

 

"Before you judge me, read the open files of Tanith. Not the media hype." Compton sat and began programming. "If you will excuse me, Professor, I have work to do."

 

III

The next few days were nerve wracking for the scientists. Every now and then, one of the guns would spin and fire. In each case, they used the laser tubes that were one barrel. Nothing had approached that needed the attention of the gauss cannons that were the other option.

 

Someone would then have to find the target with Compton's help and discover what it had killed. The corpse would be dissected, a judgment made, and if the animal proved not to be a threat, the soldier would input the changes. At the end of the week, the guns were silent at last.

 

No one had been willing to talk to him during all that time. If it bothered the man to be a pariah, he never showed it. Compton ate alone, and except for the perimeter walks he made at dawn and dusk, he was rarely out of the security center. His bunk was in the room, which spared anyone from having to share any space with him

 

After a few days, Tanya read the open files and had been appalled. Tanith had been a free colony started by a sleeper ship that launched in the early 21st century. The people that had crewed it were sick and tired of war, and wanted to create a peaceful society, where a soldier was what he should be, a defender of his people, not a tool of a government. Their military had been all volunteer and followed the Prussian ethic of refusing to obey illegal orders.

When the Commonwealth found them, there were almost 10 million of them. First contact was made, but the people of the planet didn't want to join the Commonwealth. They wanted to be left alone.

 

All was well until a survey vessel discovered Marinate on the southern uninhabited colony. Used in star ship engines for shielding, the material was worth several times its weight in gold. The Commonwealth had attempted to get mining concessions, but the people refused.

 

So the Commonwealth council had ordered a punitive mission. They had overridden every military objection, and their own better more honorable members at the behest of perhaps a dozen merchant cartels.

 

Two and a half million people had been killed before Tanith sued for peace.

 

Volund had been even worse. A first contact gone horribly awry, the natives besieging the compound when the cruiser Gettysburg had arrived. The captain was immediately ordered to open fire on the crowd. The captain instead had dropped kinetic missiles at a distance to drive them away. The scientists had then ordered Gettysburg to drop the same ordinance on the capitol city. The captain had refused, and been relieved by the local base command, the brother of the scientist in charge of Volund station. The executive officer had obeyed the order. 50,000 Volund had been killed, the planet sequestered as unremittingly hostile for the next fifty year due to the act. The Executive officer, Mission commander, and Command base officer had all been cashiered and censured.

 

It hadn't brought anyone back to life.

 

As the second week ended, Tanya came to visit, bearing coffee as a peace offering. She found Compton at the control panel, his feet up, reading.

 

"Coffee?"

 

"Sure." He motioned to the other chair in his office, and she poured before she sat. She fidgeted.

 

"I wanted to apologize. The news never covered the use of machines instead of troops at Tanith. Or the military protests concerning Volund."

 

"That's all right." Compton marked the page and looked at his screen. "I wasn't even in the Commonwealth military yet when Tanith happened."

 

"Why don't you like the Mark 7?"

 

"Well it's a handy little device I will admit. It has ATDAT, ASSA, AAP, TTD TEL-"

 

"Please!" She laughed."What does all that mean to a layman."

 

"ATDAT is Automatic Target Designation And Tracking. The system scans all possible targets and determines which is the most dangerous. If it fires, it takes them in threat order. ASSA is All Spectrum Scanning Ability, meaning it will use any spectrum necessary to find a target or detect a threat. Nothing can hide from the system when it's fully operational. Auto Adjusting Perimeter means it will automatically extend the perimeter to stop a possible threat. Right now it's set for default, but the hyper velocity gauss cannon could pluck a card out of your hand at the horizon. It has Target Threat Determination. It means it will lock up a target and continue to lay fire on that target until it is no longer a threat. Last but not least, it has Target Exclusion Lock, which means it will lock out any moving object that is not a target. Trees moving in the wind, herds of animals, us."

 

"But you don't like it."

 

"No. Not after Tanith."

 

"Can we start over?"

 

"Had we started anything?" he asked.

 

"Well I had hoped we might be friends."

 

"Sure." Compton looked at the screen. "My friends call me Henry. Want to walk with me? I've got to do my perimeter patrol."

 

"I'd like that, Henry."

 

They left the dome. Rumpsfeld watched her go, fuming.

 

IV

 

The location of the base had been carefully chosen. Since the locals clustered in cities, an area of wilderness was chosen. There was access to vehicles, a narrow paved road ran past the base of the hills, with a turnout. But so far, there had been little or no traffic.

 

The first month passed uneventfully. Stealth technology had been used to foil the native's radar systems. Antennae caught every whisper of electronic chatter. The more information they could gather before the actual first meeting, the better the chance that it would go smoothly. In the computers, their language was dissected and analyzed. When first contact finally came, the scientists would be ready.

 

"Vehicle approaching," the computer purred. Compton set down the book, and sat up. This wasn't the first vehicle to pass by, but as he watched, it pulled into turnout. Three natives climbed out. They were humanoid, tall and spindly with wide doe-like eyes and skin that looked mottled. He immediately catalogued the party as a family. Two adults, one larger, probably male. A child of indeterminate sex. He used the deep scanners. A girl. An animal about the size of a terrier leaped out of the vehicle and charged after the girl.

"Professor Rumpsfeld, please report to the security center."

 

"What now?"

 

"We have company."

 

Rumpsfeld ran in, and looked at the screen. "Excellent. Can I assume you will keep your hands off the controls?" he sneered.

 

Compton brought up the perimeter screen. There was a red line on it encircling the camp, ending ten meters from the tree line. "That is the perimeter. If none of them cross it, they are perfectly safe." He raised his hands to show that he wouldn't touch a control.

 

Tanya ran in, and sat at the console. She held up a jack for a headset and Compton plugged it into the socket, donning his own.

 

"Recording," she reported.

 

"Tell Cochran to go outside the perimeter and approach them-"

 

"I would advise against that." Compton said. "If they do anything the system considered a threat, it would have to shoot beyond it to defend him."

 

"I don't care-"

 

"Professor, this is what we're here for. Can you put aside your prejudices long enough to listen to a suggestion?" Compton snapped.

 

"Make one."

 

"Have your man stop here, two meters outside the perimeter." Compton tapped the screen. "He would be close enough to be able to jump back within it if threatened, yet far enough out to assure that the natives wouldn't accidentally cross it. That way I don't have to adjust the system immediately to compensate."

 

"That actually makes some sense. Tell him."

 

Tanya passed the instructions as Cochran stepped out. He was short, fat, and looked to human eyes as dangerous as a teddy bear. He walked down the hill toward the location he had been given, and picked a rock to sit on. while he waited

 

The male native was setting up some kind of panel. As he touched it, the top heated. Then he took out slabs of meat, and set them on the now red-hot material. The female adult was spreading a blanket on the grass and pulling coolers out of the vehicle. With nothing better to do, the child was running, her arms spread wide. The small animal ran with her, yipping. Compton looked at the perimeter. On the screen, the display had shrunk, showing the surrounding countryside. Four red dots were displayed on it, two of them moving along the edge of the perimeter and twenty meters beyond it.

The people watched, entranced. The amount of time this possible contact took didn't matter. Even if the family had their picnic and drove away, the data was worth the wait.

 

The child flopped down on the grass, hugging her pet. She sat up and looked around, smiling. The pet stopped, nose in the air, then yipped. The girl picked up the pet and looked toward where the animal was looking.

Compton keyed in a sequence. The airflow over the hill sprang into relief. "The dog has scented Cochran," he reported. He pulled out the mag card, and set it beside the slot.

 

"What are you doing?" Rumpsfeld asked mildly.

 

"Procedure, Professor. Getting ready in case we need to change the parameters." Compton didn't even look up.

 

The animal struggled, then leaped down, charging toward the alien smell. Compton watched. The system spoke. "Approaching Life-form Threat now 11 meters from perimeter. Life-form Threat is classified as Class 7."

 

"Class 7?" Tanya asked.

 

"Can injure a person, but unless it is poisonous, not considered life threatening except in packs." Compton reported. "If it were any higher, or any closer, the system would be locked on now. It will lock on when that thing gets within three meters of Cochran.

 

The system paused. "Second Life-form Threat approaching perimeter, now 11 meters from perimeter. Life-form Threat is classified as Class 3."

 

"Large enough to do serious injury." Compton explained before asked.

 

"A child?" Rumpsfeld snorted.

 

"Five time the mass of the dog. The system doesn't care anything about age of the target, just it's size and possible danger. That child weighs about as much as a Doberman Pinscher."

 

"There is no danger." Rumpsfeld said calmly.

 

The dog (Compton mentally shrugged. it was acting like a lap dog) stopped when it saw Cochran. It began to make a steady noise closer to what a clock ticking very fast would have sounded like than a growl.

 

"Life-form Threat 1 is holding at 3.2 meters from protected subject," the system said. "Life-form Threat 1 is now moving to circle protected subject in a hostile manner."

 

"Unless it actually gets close enough to touch, or is moving fast enough to get close quickly, the system will watch but not take action."

 

The animal circled the seated man, making small lunges as if to chase him away. The system clicked. Weapons turned to bear.

 

"Life-form Threat 1 has passed threshold. Reclassified Class 2. Attack has not been commenced. System in full protective mode." Compton waited, but Rumpsfeld said nothing.

 

The girl stumbled into the clearing and stopped. Cochran sat very still. In his hand he held a vox-box, the translating software set to make simultaneous translations.

 

"Hello." Cochran said. The box spat out a series of sounds which according to the system, meant the same in their language.

 

The girl looked down. If she had been human, Compton would have thought of a shy six year old. He ignored the burgeoning first contact. Both the girl and her dog were too close to the perimeter for him to watch. The animal had run back to stand by the girl. Since it had been within the threshold distance, the guns silently tracked it. With things going this well, he was more worried about the system overreacting than anything else. He listened as the girl gave what the system took to be a name, Kumi. The small animal was Baccha.

 

"Life-form Threat 2 now reclassified Class 2."

 

"What?" Tanya gasped.

 

Compton looked up. "She picked up as stick to throw for the dog. A weapon raises the threat level. If she threw it at Compton, it would reclassify her as a Class one threat and fire." Compton slid the card into the slot. "I am going to put the guns on standby."

 

"Not that you could have hurt them anyway." Rumpsfeld snorted.

 

"Authorization not recognized," the system replied. He stared at it. He looked at the card, and had a horrible suspicion. He spun to face Rumpsfeld. "What did you do?"

 

"I made sure you couldn't hurt anyone," Rumpsfeld crowed.

 

The girl threw the stick. The system marked it and ignored it as a missing projectile as it landed inside the perimeter. Baccha leaped after the stick.

"Life-form Threat 1 is closing on the base security perimeter." The guns remorselessly tracked the animal.

 

"Tell me!"

 

"You can't even-"

 

The guns on the perimeter fired, laser light chopping the animal into chunks. "Target destroyed."

 

"Baccha!" The girl ran toward her pet.

 

Compton hit his override key. "Cochran! Tackle her, stop her!"

 

Cochran was still screaming at him to ask what was going on. There wasn't enough time.

 

The system opened fire. Kumi screamed, falling.

 

Compton spun, and Rumpsfeld found himself slammed into the wall. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" Compton screamed.

 

"I demagnetized the card!" Rumpsfeld gasped.

 

On the screen, the male was heading toward them fast. Compton looked at Tanya, still horrified. "Where is the nearest med kit we can run out there?" She wordlessly touched the lab dome. Too far.

 

"Compton, what did you do?" Cochran was screaming.

The soldier spun back to his console, ignoring the gasping man. "Cochran, the system is out of my control. Pick up the girl, move her outside the perimeter at least to the edge of the clearing. Get back in here!"

 

"But she's hurt, maybe dying!"

 

"I know that! We can't help her!" He looked at the screen. "Her father is moving toward you fast. Get her outside the perimeter now!"

 

"I can bring her into the lab!"

 

"The system is out of my control, damn it! It will continue to try to kill her!"

"I'll hold her against my chest! The system-"

 

"The system will assume she is a parasite that has attached itself, and kill you too! Do what I say!"

 

Cochran picked up the limp girl and carried her out. He had just set the child back down when the male plunged into the clearing. He had been in such a hurry, that he still carried what looked like a long spatula. "Life-form Threat 3 armed with an implement." A screen lit up, and every weapon mankind had ever made flipped past quickly. "Classified as hand axe."

 

"Back away! Face him, and do it slow, but back away from her right now!"

"Life-form Threat 3 approaching damaged Life-form Threat 2. Life-form Threat 3 classified as Class 2."

 

The male dropped beside the girl, then screamed in fury and leaped toward Cochran.

 

"Aggressive attack commenced. Perimeter is now reset. Life-form Threat 3 now reclassified as Class 1." A gun spat, and the man spun and collapsed.

"Life-form Threat 3 destroyed."

 

"What have you done!" Rumpsfeld screamed. Compton turned around, glaring at the man.

 

"What have I done?" Compton stood, quivering in anger. "You demagnetized the card! You stupid bastard, the card starts the mechanism, but I also need it to shut the system down!" He screamed, punching the wall. "It's Tanith all over again!"

 

"But you said you dealt with this system there!"

 

"Of course I did!" Compton clutched his bleeding hand. "I was in the army of Tanith, not on Tanith! Not in your goddamned Commonwealth service! I was sent to shut them down after the surrender! With magcards!" He spun back to the console. "Get out of my sight!" His fingers flashed as he called up the entire system as laid out. "Maybe we can shut it down."

 

"Compton, the male, he was outside the perimeter when the guns opened fire."

"I told you. If the system sees a threat, it resets the perimeter to match." He began paging through the operating instructions for the system.

 

The woman had run up the hill after her husband. She stopped, luckily outside the new perimeter, then ran screaming down the hill. She jumped in the vehicle, and it raced off.

 

"Henry. Why are the target indicators turning blue?"

 

"Because the targets have stopped emitting on the infrared spectrum and are not moving."

 

She stared at him in horror. "You mean-" He nodded.

 

"Just like Tanith," he whispered.

 

"Your wife-"

 

"Yes. When they used the Mark 7’s attached to weapons alone, they set them for line of sight fire. Anything moving in that area was a target. They dropped them ballistically. Once on the ground and active they immediately cleared their area of fire. My wife, three of our children were in a house half a mile away."

 

V

"Oh, Christ, we're screwed." Compton groaned half an hour later. Every page had brought yet another horror. "There's no way to shut down without a mag card, and since they are issued with a specific board, no way to make a duplicate." He switched and checked the system's operating orders. "The damn things are just as obtuse as they were at Tanith."

 

"Can it be shut down?"

 

"There are only three ways to shut down a Mark 7 MEBA from the outside. One is to use a mag-card and a prompter."

 

"But we don't have a mag-card."

 

"I am glad you noticed. The other ways are brute force. Either a nuclear strike with multiple warheads, or a full scale attack with no thought to losses."

 

"How many warheads?"

 

"Twenty guns firing five rounds a second, missiles being within range of the system for maybe thirty seconds if launched ballistically, about one hundred, one hundred and fifty. Let's just say this state can be paved over when they're done."

 

"And a full scale assault?"

 

"Even worse for them. On the ground? Figure an army corps with all of the bells and whistles. Artillery, helicopters, missiles, tanks, APCs, the works. About 60,000 men. They'd lose maybe 50,000 getting close enough to volley fire anti-tank missiles at us. If it were an air strike, think of two full ground attack wings, 144 aircraft. Maybe three or four would survive to actually hit us."

 

"How about from the inside-"

 

Rumpsfeld stormed in. "Have you fixed the problem yet, Compton?"

 

Compton turned around slowly, and Rumpsfeld backed into the wall. "I can't fix it, Professor. You have made sure that I can't."

 

"Well, just unplug it!"

 

"If only it were that simple. Come here, professor."

 

"Just-"

 

"Now!" Rumpsfeld flinched as if he had been punched and stepped over behind the seats. Compton turned around and brought up the schematic of the base. There was a red cursor where the security system sat. He tapped the keys and five red lines ran from it, each in different directions, running to meet at the power core. "Professor, as you can see, there are five separate power leads running to this console. That is so battle damage will not disable it without major damage to the base itself. All of them are armored cable which would take several minutes to cut through without breaching explosives, which we do not have.

 

"They changed the system after Tanith. We were able to tunnel under and cut power in some of them at first. So they added new programming to circumvent that. We could station men at all of the cables, with axes or cutting torches, but there is an additional problem. All of them have to be disabled at the same time to shut the system down, or the automatic internal weapons systems go into fail-safe. At that point, the men cutting are shot as saboteurs. The system then monitors everyone remaining and any attempt to flee is automatically dealt with as if you were the enemy."

 

He shrugged. "We also cannot cut the power at the source. Without the mag-card, I can't place the system on standby, as I would if we needed to repair the core. Any attempt to shut the core down without my intervention causes one of two things to happen. Either the system decides it is under attack, and the man shutting it down is killed, or he succeeds, at which point the system believes the base to be damaged beyond repair, all of the weapons self destruct to avoid capture by the enemy. The top of this hill goes up like the Fourth of July. There would be a slight ringing in your ears if that happens. Fortunately, you won't be close enough to your ears to notice.

 

"I could call for a naval vessel. There are command codes known to the computers of say a cruiser that will deactivate the system by remote. However, that option means we sit here and keep killing these people for maybe three weeks longer."

 

He turned back around. "Our last alternative is to evacuate. Again, the base will self destruct, but if we do it fast enough, we don't kill anyone else."

 

"But the mission-"

 

"Don't you get it? The mission is dead! We can't bring it back to life! The next time we come we have to come hat in hand and beg their forgiveness."

 

Compton turned around. The all call toned. "All hands, this is an emergency evacuation! Report immediately to the lander. Mr. O'Malley, prep for immediate launch."

 

"You can't-" Rumpsfeld began.

 

"I just did."

 

"At least give us time to get all the data aboard!"

 

"To hell with your data. If we ever come back, maybe they'll let you collect it." Compton tapped a key and a drawer opened. In it was a holstered side arm. A smaller version of the Gauss cannon, it threw a 4mm slug that hit like half a stick of dynamite exploding. He pulled the bundle out and put the weapons belt on. "Follow your orders, Professor."

 

Before he could answer, the console pinged. "Airborne Threat 1, approaching. Ground vehicle Threat One approaching." Compton turned back to the screens. He quickly scanned the approaching aliens. The air vehicle looked like a huge police remote surveillance unit, a fan in the center lifting a frame large enough to hold maybe two of them. There was some kind of writing on the side. "Compton, this is Mangioni. We're getting telemetry which appears to be a news report. We're the top story."

 

The vehicle looked like the one that had carried the alien survivor away, but the color was different. He zeroed in on the driver's door, and tapped the symbol. "I would say the police have arrived."

 

The vehicle pulled into the turnout, and the driver stepped out. "Please." Compton whispered. "Don't have rifles or heavy weapons. Only have side arms."

 

"Threat assessment. Chemical propellant weapon." The system flashed a schematic of the hand weapons and began running through the library.

The passenger climbed out. In his hands was a long tube.

 

"Classified as Pistol. Range within safety parameters." It began running the long arm.

 

"Classified as Rifle. Range estimate. Perimeter reset, Life-form Threat 5 classified as Class 2."

 

"Oh, please god," Tanya whispered. The man with the long arm moved a section of the facing, then aimed it upward.

 

"Life-form Threat 5 making hostile action. Reclassified as Class 1. Target obscured. Clearing sight lines."

 

Unfortunately the road was beyond the tree line and couldn't be seen directly. That meant that every obstruction had to go.

 

This time twenty guns slewed around, each taking part of the forest as a target area, and the lasers snapped into life. It was the lawnmower of God, slicing down trees as if they were grass. As the tree crowns began to fall, the movement brought up the secondary systems. Before, it had been almost quiet. One laser discharging the capacitors. Now it was the anvil chorus of hell. Gauss cannon spat 20 mm shells, and each was more powerful than an artillery shell. The trees didn't fall, they were blasted into splinters before they could hit the ground. The wood-chipper of doom reduced all of the falling timber to chips.

 

The first row of trees went down, and the system began on the second line. It would continue until the new perimeter was cleared.

 

Even if they had jumped back into their vehicle, it was already too late for the aliens below. The system had decided that the weapon had a mile range in expert hands.

 

And it considered every enemy an expert.

 

The last trees went down and the system hit the vehicle with a laser, intending to cut through and eliminate the target. The beam punched through a fuel tank and the car exploded, killing both.

 

The hovering aircraft flinched, then turned to flee. As it did, a light glinted on something. Compton was sure it was a camera imaging system, he would be sure until the day he died. But to the remorseless system, his opinion meant nothing. Even as the screen flashed Laser Target Designator, the craft was scattered metal shards falling to the ground.

 

Rumpsfeld stood horrified. Compton caught him by the shoulder. "Get the people on the lander. Now!"

 

VI

Even with Compton and O'Malley pushing, it took time. Time they wasted tearing data cubes from hands, forcibly moving scientists from the new data coming in from every where. Here at least, Rumpsfeld helped. He cajoled, screamed, and in one case, punched a scientist that refused to leave his console.

 

Compton stopped after pushing a scientist onto the lander, shutting out her shrill screams of protest. He scanned the terrified faces. They were missing three, O'Malley, Rumpsfeld, and Tanya. He ran back out. The system was warming up, and he didn't like the sound of it. The aliens must have decided to bring out the heavy artillery.

 

He found O'Malley and Rumpsfeld in the lab. Against orders, Rumpsfeld was trying to download the data base. Compton drew his sidearm and fired three shots into the console, shattering the disk readers. "Go!" He turned to find Tanya, and something hit him from behind.

 

"Are you crazy?" O'Malley grabbed the Professor's arm.

 

"I am not going to let some soldier destroy my career! Let's get out of here."

"What about him?"

 

"He said he was responsible, let him be." Rumpsfeld pushed the smaller man toward the door. They passed Tanya. "Get aboard!"

 

"Where's Henry? He came looking for you!" she screamed.

 

"We didn't see him." Rumpsfeld lied.

 

She looked at him and the embarrassed O'Malley. "You bastards!" She pushed past them and ran down the hall.

 

Compton swam up from the darkness, feeling the gentle wash of ocean waves. As he came farther up, they became harder, and suddenly he was awake, catching Tanya's arm to stop her from slapping him.

 

"Thank god! We have to hurry!" There was a rumbling sound, and he caught her instinctively.

 

"They're leaving!"

 

"The engines are lit off! You'll be fried in a second!" Compton mentally pictured where they were, and staggered into the hall. "This way!"

 

They ran to the airlock and out of the base. Off in the distance, he could see an arrow-like shape flashing into a valley before the weapons could lock. Behind them the main dome ripped and the lander lifted into the air.

 

"We have less than a minute!" He ran down the hill, hoping that she was smart enough to follow. For a moment, he recognized the path. The same one the child had come up this morning. Only the path remained of the glade she had entered. The lander was climbing slowly. I hope you live, Rumpsfeld. I want to kill you myself.

 

Even as he thought it, the low flying aircraft popped up and rippled off a dozen missiles. The guns blotted it from the sky and the missiles died one by one.

 

The last one hit the lander amidships. The craft exploded, crashing back into the base.

 

The timer in his mind ran without slowing, and he was frantic now to find cover. He stopped, and Tanya bumped into him. He picked her up, throwing her into the ditch on the opposite side of the road, then dived in as the count reached zero.

 

The base went up in a series of actinic flashes as each gun position exploded, the capacitors released in an orgy of self destruction. To a smart observer, one at least a mile and a half away, it looked like a glorious fireworks display. The sound reverberated through the hills, and finally all fell silent.

 

Tanya Marquez dug herself out, looking around in horror. The hills were the same, except for the one the base had stood on. That denuded slope had been torn by the fires of hell, which still smoldered as less sensitive systems also began their self destruct sequences. Compton moaned, and she dug him out of the ash. His choice of the ditch as a hiding place had been lucky. The blast had ripped down trees on the opposite side of the road and some of them were burning.

 

"Compton. Wake up. Damn you Henry, you're not leaving me here alone!"

 

"All right, enough." Compton waved her to silence, feeling his sides. He had five broken ribs by his count, his back was blistered by the fire storm that had ripped over their heads, and he had no hair behind his ears on his head.

"What do you think of the new style?" he asked, motioning toward his head. Tanya stared at him as if he'd gone mad, then began laughing hysterically.

 

Compton noticed a movement, and turned just his head to look.

 

An alien stood there, watching them. He was obviously a warrior. A weapon like the long arm that had doomed the police, but with a larger bore. Vision enhancing goggles of some kind hung before his eyes. The warrior motioned, and others slowly appeared behind him. They watched the humans warily as they moved forward.

 

Compton raised a hand slowly, and they stopped, weapons aimed. Slowly, with no chance that he might be viewed as a threat, he slowly drew his sidearm and flung it down. Tanya suddenly stopped laughing and clutched him.

 

"What happens now?"

 

The warrior moved forward, examined the gauss pistol, and stuck it in his belt. He motioned upward with the rifle.

 

"Pray to whatever god you know they understand that mistakes happen...."

[igyman]

Very nice. I really liked this one. I could picture almost every scene. Very nicely done, mach. There's one thing though, maybe I've missed it somewhere, but I haven't noticed a description of the natives' appearance. That might be a minor flaw, but otherwise it's great.

[machievelli]

There's one thing though, maybe I've missed it somewhere, but I haven't noticed a description of the natives' appearance. That might be a minor flaw, but otherwise it's great.

 

Would you accept that I forgot to describe them?

 

As it is, I had to trim down the piece to fit here.

[igyman]

I would. After all it's not a crucial element of the story, so it's understandable that you didn't focus on it that much.