“It is fitting that this soldier be laid to rest, here on the site of his last battle,” General Riggs said to the gathered soldiers and civilians. “Many fell this day, but none led the way so well or with such conviction as this soldier. He stood at the gates, defending his home, his honor and his land as sternly as any Trojan and leading by example so that others stood there with him. By holding this line they gave everyone else the most precious thing possible in war: time. Today, the enemy that killed him works for us. Through the efforts of many people, some here today and others far away, we found the Achilles’ heel and Paris’s arrow flew true.
“Sergeant Gregory will be missed. But others take up the battle in his stead. They continue to shine in the light of his leadership and devotion, and they will continue to carry the battle to the enemy. No soldier could ask for more.
“Sergeant Major.”
Cady’s right arm, which had been almost severed by the falling probe, was neatly capped by a black cloth. Dr. Reynolds had assured him that the remaining resources of Asymetric Soldier could craft him a prosthetic that was damned near as good as new. Maybe a little better. But he didn’t need it for this duty, only his voice.
“Detail, prepare to render salute! Present Arms! Fire!… Load Arms!… Fire! Load Arms!… Fire! Order Arms!”
Jones and Mahoney had to get help folding the flag. But after it had been presented to the general — Gregory’s wife and kids were somewhere in a refugee camp in Kentucky — they got in line to drop dirt into the hole.
“So long, Sergeant,” Jones said. “Keep the fire warm.”
“Yeah,” Mahoney added, trying to think of something appropriately clever and philosophical.
Overhead four of the new bot propulsion fighters flew by. The sleek craft were piloted by the only surviving “Rednecks.” One, piloted by Colonel “Bull” Ridley, banked off into the missing man formation. All four of the swept wing forward canard fighters glittered red, white and blue in the bright afternoon sun. Behind them came rank upon rank upon rank of red white and blue flying machines, all under the control of humanity. They filled the skies momentarily and then banked down into the valley to land on the remains of Huntsville, there to await their next command.
Mahoney looked back down and gave up. In the end, all the philosophical words were hollow, so he said goodbye as a soldier.
“We are so going to kick those machine bastards’ asses.”