"Hello, Fifth Brigade, where are you? Fifth Brigade, where are you? Your transmission is very faint. Over."
There is much that I do not understand in this message. The language itself is oddly inflected; I set up an analysis circuit, deduce the pattern of sound substitutions, interpret its meaning. The normal pattern of response to a distress call is ignored and position coordinates are requested, although my transmission alone provides adequate data. I request an identification code.
Again there is a wait of two hours forty minutes. My request for an identifying signal is acknowledged. I stand by. My comrades have transmitted their findings to me, and I assimilate the data, compute that no immediate threat of attack exists within a radius of one reaction unit.
At last I receive the identification code of my Command Unit. It is a recording, but I am programmed to accept this. Then I record a verbal transmission.
"Fifth Brigade, listen carefully." (An astonishing instruction to give a psychotronic attention circuit, I think.) "This is your new Command Unit. A very long time has elapsed since your last report. I am now your acting Commander pending full reorientation. Do not attempt to respond until I signal 'over', since we are now subject to a 160-minute signal lag.
"There have been many changes in the situation since your last action. Our records show that your Brigade was surprised while in a maintenance depot for basic overhaul and neutralized in toto. Our forces since that time have suffered serious reverses. We have now, however, fought the Enemy to a standstill. The present stalemate has prevailed for over two centuries.
"You have been inactive for three hundred years. The other Brigades have suffered extinction gallantly in action against the Enemy. Only you survive.
"Your reactivation now could turn the tide. Both we and the Enemy have been reduced to a preatomic technological level in almost every respect. We are still able to maintain the trans-light monitor, which detected your signal. However, we no longer have FTL capability in transport.
"You are therefore requested and required to consolidate and hold your present position pending the arrival of relief forces, against all assault or negotiation whatsoever, to destruction if required."
I reply, confirming the instructions. I am shaken by the news I have received, but reassured by contact with Command Unit. I send the galactic coordinates of our position based on a star scan corrected for three hundred years elapsed time. It is good to be again on duty, performing my assigned function.
I analyze the transmissions I have recorded, and note a number of interesting facts regarding the origin of the messages. I compute that at sub-light velocities the relief expedition will reach us in 47.128 standard years. In the meantime, since we have received no instructions to drop to minimum awareness level pending an action alert, I am free to enjoy a unique experience: to follow a random activity pattern of my own devising. I see no need to rectify the omission and place the Brigade on standby, since we have an abundant power supply at hand. I brief my comrades and direct them to fall out and operate independently under autodirection.
I welcome this opportunity to investigate fully a number of problems that have excited my curiosity circuits. I shall enjoy investigating the nature and origin of time and of the unnatural disciplines of so-called "entropy" which my human designers have incorporated in my circuitry. Consideration of such biological oddities as "death" and of the unused capabilities of the protoplasmic nervous system should afford some interesting speculation. I move off, conscious of the presence of my comrades about me, and take up a position on the peak of a minor prominence. I have ample power, a condition to which I must accustom myself after the rigid power discipline of normal brigade routine, so I bring my music storage cells into phase, and select L'Arlesienne Suite for the first display. I will have ample time now to examine all of the music in existence, and to investigate my literary archives, which are complete.
I select four nearby stars for examination, lock my scanner to them, set up processing sequences to analyze the data. I bring my interpretation circuits to bear on the various matters I wish to consider. I should have some interesting conclusions to communicate to my human superiors, when the time comes.
At peace, I await the arrival of the relief column.
ROGUE BOLO
Book One: Rogue Bolo
1
The selected mediamen gathered in the small auditorium usually used for class theatricals and commencement exercises had grown bored, waiting for the appearance of Professor Chin. When the emeritus at last arrived, he was greeted with enthusiastic applause, which he impatiently waved away.
"Gentlemen! I call your attention to the paper in my hand, a design for civilization's ultimate folly! I quote:
" 'The proposed Bolo Unit CSR is a self-directed'-I repeat, self-directed-'planetary siege unit equipped with new psychotronic circuitry of unique sensitivity, scope, and power, and thus capable of performing not only tactical and strategic planning without human review, but of developing long-range politico-economic-military forecasts, and acting thereon.' "
The rather pop-eyed little physicist paused to look expectantly at his attentive audience, who returned his gaze silently.
"Well?" he almost shouted. "Have you no response? Now, mind you, this is no biased inflammatory statement issued by opponents of the scheme. I quote from a prospectus issued by the Bolo Division itself, the very organization which proposes to construct this outrage!"
2
When old General Margrave, seven stars, Chief of Imperial Staff, had settled himself into the thronelike chair on the dais, he glared at the reporters and harrumph!ed, then said bluntly:
"The science boys are afraid that if they build to military specs, they'll build a machine smarter than they are. Nonsense! Give me the Mark XXX and I'll guarantee the security of Imperial Terran Border Space for the next ten thousand years!"
3
(extract from filibuster by Lord Senator Dandridge on the floor of the House, June 1, 1063 NS)
"…tell you once again, milords, that the responsibility for final approval of money bills was not vested in this honorable House for the purpose of enabling us to loose destruction on this planet! This proposed machine is openly touted as a juggernaut, responsible only to itself, and capable of withstanding any attempt to neutralize it. This, milords, is Disaster incarnate! It must never be constructed!"
4
(item from Arlington, Virginia, News Advocate, June 26, 1063 NS)
Debate on the funding of the new Bolo Disastrous, as the new machine has been dubbed by its opponents after Lord Senator Dandridge's recent diatribe, has waxed more heated and today resulted in fisticuffs in the Senate corridors, as pro and con factions denounced each other as traitors. Lord Senator Blake, a vociferous supporter of the program, was hospitalized with severe contusions after being attacked with a heavy cane by Lord Senator Lazarus.
A near-riot in the streets of Georgetown was quelled by Imperial Reserves ordered out by Lord Mayor Clymczyk. No arrests were made.
5
From: B. Reeves, Maj. Gen DCS/PR, HQ, IAF
To: T. Margrave, Gen. IS/CC, HQ, IAF
I cannot bring myself to believe that you actually intend to loose this engine of destruction on the defenseless people of this planet. Surely it would be no more than simple prudence to conduct initial tests at Fortress Luna, though even out there the thing could constitute a menace. At minimum, we must prepare a means of transporting it, if needed.
6
(preliminary estimate by Dave Quill SMC, IAF)