The Compleat Bolo (21 page)

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.

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!"

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!"

". . .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.

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.

I reckon if we use a couple of cargo pods, fixed up end-to-end, and power the rig with a primary drive unit out of a ship of the line, it would put more than ten million tons into orbit—and soft-land it, too, if that's what they want. Sounds nutty to me, but like my old drill sergeant used to say, I ain't paid to think. Sure, I can do it.

"It is with grave misgivings that we give our assent to the proposals, milords. However, our technical advisors remind us that we are now in the second millennium of the Nuclear Age, and that the present outcry is not the first to be raised in opposition to technological advance.

They remind us further of the furor which attended the early deployment of the orbital nuclear watchdog defense system, whereas in fact it was the 'Dog' which detected and neutralized within ten minutes the attempted
coup
of the Eurasian Province in 621 NS.

"Accordingly, we do herewith sign the document, and let all men know that it is the Imperial wish that construction of the Bolo '
Caesar
' proceed without further delay."

Well, I don't know. It's been a long time since the Mark XXIX program, and I confess I haven't been able to keep up with the advances in psychotronics since they came out with the new MJ circuitry. So don't ask me, fellows. I guess if the Emperor has OK'd it, it must be all right. No, I don't think the Imperial Edict is a fake. George is no dummy.

Toby—this means we have to go
now
on the new rolling mill. I know it hasn't been proved that it's going to be possible to fabricate 20-cm. endurachrome plating, but we've got the contract, and we can do it if anybody can. Keep me informed.—K

"Oh, my brethren, if the Lord intended man to field this kind of firepower, he'd have given him armor plating, can't you see that? I tell you, this here Bolo CSR
Disastrous
is a device of the Evil One, so what we've got to do is, we've got to form up and march on that Tellurian Metals plant
now.
Love contributions are being accepted by the ladies now passing among you. So give, give, GIVE, till it hurt, hurt, HURTS. Amen."

"Beats me, Gus. I'm just an old-fashioned electronics man, and I got no opinions on this. It's way over my head, but it stands to reason that we have to be prepared, now that our probes are poking into Trans-Oort Space. No telling what we might scare up out there. Pour me one more, Gus—no, I ain't drunk, but I'm working on it."

"We here at Acme have long taken pride in our role in Imperial preparedness. As impartial subcontractors to major aerospace firms, we have played an important role in military procurement for over a century. We shall continue thus to support our world's self-defense, in spite of a degree of public hysteria currently misdirected at the new Bolo program."

"All right, fellas and gals. This is the position of Aroused People for the Environment: "We oppose without reservation any further waste of the natural resources of our Earth on the manufacture of exaggerated systems designed for warfare—warfare, mind you, against hypothetical intelligent extraterrestrials not even known to exist. Now, get out there, people, with the new brochures and posters. And remember our goal— everybody goes APE in '73!"

"The people of Lolahoocha County rightly expect to be able to go about their business as usual, without interference by these gangs of Apes or Hungarians or whatever, coming around making trouble. I aim to see they've not disappointed."

"Well, I don't know, John, with all these riots and everything else you hear about, maybe they do have to arrest some of them, like you said, and it is important that planetary defense programs proceed as planned. But Herb Brown—when you see him out mowing his lawn like anybody else, you wouldn't think that
he
was mixed up in any kind of plot."

"Jails'll be running over soon. No room left for thieves and murderers, if they keep sticking everybody in the can that happens to be passing by when those agitators start up. I tell you, I was just on my way over to Little Armenia to pick up some of that good bread, and heard shouting, thought it was a car smash, you know, and I crossed over, and—"

"Whatta I care? Bunch of Anarchists bumping heads with a bunch of bureaucrats. I got better things to do. Don't come around here tryin' to start trouble, sister. Just buzz off, unless you wanna go up to my place and discuss it. Then maybe you could convert me, at that."

"But Mr. Trace," the interviewer persisted, "it won't wash, just saying you don't know. You're the chief engineer on the Bolo CSR project, and the public demands—"

"The public is in no position to demand," Trace snapped, "and what I told you is the simple truth: no single human being is in a position to, or indeed is capable of, grasping more than his own small area of responsibility in the project. The basic programming cubes for the Bolo are received directly from the Lord Minister of Defense, sealed under Galactic Ultimate Top Secret Classification, and that's that. My job is to coordinate the work of the various subcontractors, not to question official policy."

Trace held up a hand to stop the interviewer's next question. "Personally, I consider all of this alarmist sentiment to be nonsense. I have complete confidence in Bolo CSR."

"Now you got that, Joe? You and yer boys keep yer heads down—and I mean
down—
until you hear the explosion. Then you come over that wall in a solid wave, which Fred's bunch are doing the same acrost the lawn from the west, and hit the front at a dead run. No slowing down to tend to casualties. No quarter. Blow the Greenbacks down and secure the gate. Any questions?"

"Now, honey, honest, I don't have nothing to do with stuff like that. All I got is a regular diagram for just a little sub-assembly, so I do my job and pass it on. One thing I can tell you, she's big! Lordy, she's big. Makes a Mark XXIX look like an old-fashioned deluxe V-8 or something. But I ain't worried. If General Margrave backs her, she's OK. Pass them biscuits, Marge."

". . . no, sir, he don't talk about his work, just said it's almighty big, but everybody already knows that. His own wife! You'd think he could tell
me!
But, like you said, if he
does
tell me about it, I'll call that number you gave me. You're sure he won't get in trouble now, if I do that? Well, okay, and thanks a lot for the hundred, mister. I won't forget."

That's not our problem, Toby. Leave all that to the security boys. Our problem is getting plant facilities in place before we need them. Sure, it's a big pour, but you can call on the Imperial Guard for extra hands, you know that as well as I do. October 1, that's your deadline, Toby. Now do it.—K

"Talk about Hitler's concentration camps—they've got nothing on this pigpen. I was a business executive— minerals, metals, and energy. What do I know about politics? Fellow came to me talking real nice, asked me what I thought about the Bolo. I said, 'Hell, I don't know one way or the other,' something like that, and next thing I knew, I was on my way to some kangaroo court, and then here. Didn't even get to pack. No, I don't want cigarettes. Got enough problems without poisoning myself."

"—say today they're going to light her off. She's got no tread plates on her, so she's not going anywhere, and no power pack for her main batteries, so what could go wrong?"

"OK, officer, sure thing. Just got caught in this jam by accident. I was on my way to Tatesville, to visit my in-laws. Got pushed right off I-1102 by a freighter rig, had to take this exit or hit the son of a bitch. I don't care nothing about that thing. I'm in grain and feeds, you see. They launched a sub right in my home town back in 1041, but I never even went to look. Sure, officer, just let me through here, and I'm heading in the opposite direction."