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Authors: Gregory Benford
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said nothing. Momentarily he turned to tracking the other squads,
giving maneuvering orders.
The attack was going exceedingly well. The squads flanked and parried and thrust with agile verve. The mechs were inept and
uncoordinated, once their initial plan failed. They probably planned to humble
Argo
with a show of force. These were guard forces, not fighters.
Well ordered, however. I suggest you be careful as the line progresses into the interior. A slow defense can nevertheless
draw the swift, unthinking attacker into a trap .
This interjection from his Ling Aspect reminded Killeen to order the side squads to attack the comm lines they met. They responded
quickly and severed several obvious lines. Killeen worried about the nonobvious ones. His Ling Aspect seized this opportunity
to hold forth.
You display a tendency toward far too clipped and brief orders, I have noticed. The great ancient generals kept their heads,
remember, and did not allow the disorder of battle to affect clarity. For example, a land general of far-ancient days, named
Iron Wellington, was directing a grand battle called Waterloo when he saw a fire threaten to break his troops’ line. He sent
a note which read, “I see that fire has communicated from the haystack to the roof of the chateau. After they will have fallen
in, occupy the ruined walls inside of the garden, particularly if it should be possible for the enemy to pass through the
embers to the inside of the house.” Graceful, accurate—and all written while on horseback under enemy fire, in the midst of
a raging military crisis. That should be your aim
.
Killeen grimaced, and his Arthur Aspect piped in:
I cannot but note that the message contains both a future subjunctive and a future perfect construction—remarkably difficult
forms even in relaxed circumstances.
Arthur was a scientist and lightning calculator from the late Arcology Era. He was precise, prissy, and invaluable. Killeen
pushed away both Aspects. He watched as Toby’s squad came coasting into a vast bowl lined with scintillant panels. Killeen
recognized this from Aspect-pictures he had seen years before. An old-style trap using crossfiring lasers.
“Get out!” he sent on a tightbeam channel.
Toby heard him, veered left. Acceleration slammed perspectives into a squashed blur.
The screen gave quick glimpses of convoluted conduits, incised slabs of pale orange, tangles of wiring. Bolts snarled around
them, ricocheting off curved metallic surfaces. Burnt-gold electrical overloads arced ahead of them along the side shafts.
“Mines,” Killeen sent. “Seal up.”
Though the fast-moving picture kept plunging down a wide tunnel, Killeen could hear the faint
snick
of Toby’s suit closing all possible current-carrying leaks. Voltages lurked all around them, lying in wait for humans who
could scarcely take a simultaneous unshielded Volt and Amp, so delicate were their interiors.
Killeen checked with several squads who had entered the tower. They were meeting the same clumsy defenses. The twisting warrens
of dense circuitry made it hard to figure the location of the mainmind. No Family had ever entered such a place. Experience
could not guide them.
Stranger still, there was obvious damage to some passages. A fight had raged here before. The cuts looked fresh, too. His
Ling Aspect said:
Perhaps this explains the rudimentary resistance we are meeting
.
“How?”
If someone else has taken this station, they might have left it with token forces
.
“Some rival mechs?” Killeen knew mech cities sometimes fought one another, competition run amok. Maybe the Mantis’s reception
committee had been knocked off?
Perhaps. We may discover more at the mainmind
.
Killeen watched the teams move on a 3D projection of the tower. Shibo entered fresh information as the teams reported in.
Quickly, blocks of detail filled in the large blank spaces in the tower projection.
Killeen thought he
giving maneuvering orders.
The attack was going exceedingly well. The squads flanked and parried and thrust with agile verve. The mechs were inept and
uncoordinated, once their initial plan failed. They probably planned to humble
Argo
with a show of force. These were guard forces, not fighters.
Well ordered, however. I suggest you be careful as the line progresses into the interior. A slow defense can nevertheless
draw the swift, unthinking attacker into a trap .
This interjection from his Ling Aspect reminded Killeen to order the side squads to attack the comm lines they met. They responded
quickly and severed several obvious lines. Killeen worried about the nonobvious ones. His Ling Aspect seized this opportunity
to hold forth.
You display a tendency toward far too clipped and brief orders, I have noticed. The great ancient generals kept their heads,
remember, and did not allow the disorder of battle to affect clarity. For example, a land general of far-ancient days, named
Iron Wellington, was directing a grand battle called Waterloo when he saw a fire threaten to break his troops’ line. He sent
a note which read, “I see that fire has communicated from the haystack to the roof of the chateau. After they will have fallen
in, occupy the ruined walls inside of the garden, particularly if it should be possible for the enemy to pass through the
embers to the inside of the house.” Graceful, accurate—and all written while on horseback under enemy fire, in the midst of
a raging military crisis. That should be your aim
.
Killeen grimaced, and his Arthur Aspect piped in:
I cannot but note that the message contains both a future subjunctive and a future perfect construction—remarkably difficult
forms even in relaxed circumstances.
Arthur was a scientist and lightning calculator from the late Arcology Era. He was precise, prissy, and invaluable. Killeen
pushed away both Aspects. He watched as Toby’s squad came coasting into a vast bowl lined with scintillant panels. Killeen
recognized this from Aspect-pictures he had seen years before. An old-style trap using crossfiring lasers.
“Get out!” he sent on a tightbeam channel.
Toby heard him, veered left. Acceleration slammed perspectives into a squashed blur.
The screen gave quick glimpses of convoluted conduits, incised slabs of pale orange, tangles of wiring. Bolts snarled around
them, ricocheting off curved metallic surfaces. Burnt-gold electrical overloads arced ahead of them along the side shafts.
“Mines,” Killeen sent. “Seal up.”
Though the fast-moving picture kept plunging down a wide tunnel, Killeen could hear the faint
snick
of Toby’s suit closing all possible current-carrying leaks. Voltages lurked all around them, lying in wait for humans who
could scarcely take a simultaneous unshielded Volt and Amp, so delicate were their interiors.
Killeen checked with several squads who had entered the tower. They were meeting the same clumsy defenses. The twisting warrens
of dense circuitry made it hard to figure the location of the mainmind. No Family had ever entered such a place. Experience
could not guide them.
Stranger still, there was obvious damage to some passages. A fight had raged here before. The cuts looked fresh, too. His
Ling Aspect said:
Perhaps this explains the rudimentary resistance we are meeting
.
“How?”
If someone else has taken this station, they might have left it with token forces
.
“Some rival mechs?” Killeen knew mech cities sometimes fought one another, competition run amok. Maybe the Mantis’s reception
committee had been knocked off?
Perhaps. We may discover more at the mainmind
.
Killeen watched the teams move on a 3D projection of the tower. Shibo entered fresh information as the teams reported in.
Quickly, blocks of detail filled in the large blank spaces in the tower projection.
Killeen thought he
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