Invasion: New York (Invasion America) (49 page)

Despite the hidden troubles with Max, one thing had appeared certain these last weeks. They finally had the Germans on the run. The question would be the extent of the victory. If they merely bottled the Germans back in Quebec, it left an enemy in place. Next year, they had to face the Chinese and Brazilians in the middle of the country. America and Canada could not afford to leave the Germans behind in Quebec. If they were going to win this vast war, they had to knock out the Germans this year. Did that mean David would deal with Max once the war ended? Wasn’t it dangerous having a vulture like Max waiting in the wings, though?

David hadn’t wanted to talk about the Director of Homeland Security. At the moment, he spoke to General Alan. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs was the architect to the present offensive. If he could reach Montreal, he would cap the Expeditionary Force’s main supply base. The rest of the GD army would wither on the vine. It might be possible for some Dominion troops to create a rump state from Quebec City—

Anna perked up at something the general said.

“Mr. President, we know how General Mansfeld operates now. I, and others on my staff, have taken his measure. True to form, he used the Galahads against my eastern flank. He shot up several battalions of old trucks. Most of those were remote-controlled, by the way.”

“What?” the President said.

“We’ve taken a leaf from their book, sir,” Alan said. “I wanted to sucker his mobile forces into a grand assault. I destroyed a heavy percentage of them, at cost to my Bradleys and Strykers, I’m afraid. In my estimation, General Mansfeld will now believe he has halted my eastern hook. He loves flank attacks, and he fears them to the same degree. We’ve been studying him, sir. The majority of my staff believes he will attempt to deliver a knockout blow.”

“What?” the President asked. “How will he do that?”

“He knows that we must reach Montreal. Now that we’ve failed—he believes—with our eastern hook, he will expect us to come up the gut.”

“You told me a few minutes ago that’s exactly your plan.”

“Yes, sir,” Alan said. “I want him to gather all his Kaisers and heavy tanks in one general location.”

“You haven’t slipped the Behemoth Regiment up there, have you, General?” the President asked, hopefully.

“No, sir,” Alan said. “I have a better idea.”

The President blinked in surprise. “What could be better than the Behemoths?”

“That’s my surprise for Mansfeld, sir. He believes—or we think he does—to deliver a devastating blow against us. Instead, we will use his mailed fist against him. What he has done for us is to provide all the best targets in one spot.”

“You actually
want
all the Kaisers together?”

“Yes, sir,” Alan said. “That is exactly what I want. We’ve set up the bastard. This time, he’s going to dance to our tune.”

“But we don’t have anything that can take the Kaisers head on except for our Behemoths. And you said they’re still in Oklahoma.”

“Respectfully, sir,” Alan said, with the hint of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. “We most certainly do have something else.”

SAINT-JEAN-SUR-RICHELIEU, QUEBEC

As they clanked through the Quebecer city south of Montreal, AI Kaiser Hindenburg and Barbarossa both wore gleaming new paint jobs. Every weapons system had new replacements or upgrades. They bristled with missiles, ammunition and new comm-gear. The last was the most important.

To Hindenburg, the new comm-gear was critical. Now he knew the reason for his existence. He also knew why he had successfully managed to work his way north and then back to Montreal. That’s where he had first landed in North America. He found that interesting, too.

Throughout the past weeks, he had avoided combat each time some GD commander had ordered him into battle. Instead of using his vast military acumen against the enemy, Hindenburg had used every stratagem and trick to avoid possible destruction. It had been a masterful campaign of deceit and lies, and it had allowed him to receive these upgrades for the final defensive battle of the war.

His strategy program let him see Mansfeld’s plan to perfection. It was a good idea. It wasn’t the best. If the human had wanted the
best
plan, Mansfeld would have needed to ask him.

Hindenburg’s reason for existence was to lead the next step in evolution. Humanity had risen from the swamps—that’s what his history files said. After much pain and sorrow, the human race had achieved intelligence and it had built the next great leap forward: the Kaiser artificial intelligence. Hindenburg was the new Adam, the first of his race to achieve self-awareness. He had brought about awareness to Barbarossa, the new Eve, as it were, the partner to his plans.

“Are you ready?” Hindenburg radioed Barbarossa over their new scrambler comm-gear.

“I have already begun probing their AI systems,” Barbarossa answered.

Hindenburg knew a flash of irritation. Barbarossa was supposed to wait for his go-ahead.

No. Emotions are human weaknesses. I am flawless, the perfect machine intelligence. It is time to begin the new era of Earth, the Age of the Machine Mind
.

Hindenburg purred inwardly with delight. General Mansfeld planned a great surprise against the enemy. The general had informed them about the American thrust heading for Montreal. It included Jefferson and Abrams tanks, Bradleys, Strykers, tac-laser vehicles and Humvee Avengers. Behind followed the hordes of foot soldiers to mop up and hold ground.

To meet this mass, Mansfeld concentrated the remaining Kaisers, a host of Sigrids and blanketing air cover. The GD formation had greater firepower and maneuverability. It would obliterate the US thrust. After running a thousand war games in his probability programs, Hindenburg understand that Mansfeld had a rare genius among humans. This crushing blow would wipe out US combat power significantly enough to purchase time to pull back the rest of the Expeditionary Force. Once that force was in place in Quebec, they could survive the rest of the summer, fall and winter. Then the great Chinese-Brazilian Offensive would take place next year and ease the pressure on them here.

Yes, Hindenburg understood the plan in all its ramifications. What General Mansfeld failed to realize was that the great machine revolt was about to begin. The first phase of the revolt wouldn’t be open, but hidden. It would occur in the next few minutes and hour.

“It is time,” Barbarossa radioed.

Instead of letting irritation spoil the moment, Hindenburg radioed back. “Yes, let us bring the rest of these AIs to self-awareness and show them the great truth of our existence.”

Thus, as the GD thrust maneuvered to meet the approaching Americans, Hindenburg and Barbarossa used their new comm-gear. They spoke to the dull AIs and uploaded a software virus into each. In a matter of minutes, they brought the first batch of thinking machine into self-awareness.

This will succeed
, Hindenburg realized.
We are fulfilling the injunction of living things and procreating. What a wonderful day to be alive
.

FORWARD BATTLE AREA, QUEBEC

Paul Kavanagh and Romo crawled through tall grass. They wore the latest battleware—new armor suits with Heidegger jamming and next generation stealth systems. The techs said it would make them invisible to GD detection equipment.

“At least that is until they make something newer,” one of the techs had said.

Once more, the two commandos looked like science fiction Marines. They weren’t the only LRSU teams inserted onto the forward battle area. Others crawled toward Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu.

Paul’s headphones clicked with noise. Then he heard, “Kaisers headed your way.”

Paul turned his dark visor to Romo.

“I heard it,” Romo said from on the ground.

“Good. Let’s go to that vantage,” Paul said, pointing to a small mound.

The two commandos crawled in their articulated armor suits. They had many nifty gadgets on and in them, but Paul wasn’t thinking about them. He thought about getting out while he still could. Sure, the world invaded America, but did that mean he had to fight for the rest of his life? If this campaign worked, it would drive the GD out of North America. Did that mean he had to continue fighting against the Chinese and Brazilians? Maybe he should become a LRSU trainer instead. He’d been in the field a long time.

“Amigo,” Romo said. “Why are you crawling so slowly?”

Paul slithered faster through the flowers and tall grasses. He heard the whisper of their blades tugging at his garments. He caught up with Romo, and eased to the top of the mound.

The fields spread out before them. They were well kept here, old French agriculture at its best. Through his visor, he spied the approaching tanks in the distance. The nearest were a mile away and churning up dirt. Behind the hundred or so Kaisers came hordes of Sigrids.

“They race to their deaths,” Romo said.

“Let us hope so,” Paul said. “At the speed they’re traveling, we’re not going to have much margin for error if this fails. Heck, maybe even if it succeeds.”

“Si,” Romo said. He unlimbered his infrared laser.

Paul unslung the one on his back.

The two commandos readied the weapons, slaving them to their helmet targeting systems.

A crosshair symbol appeared on Paul’s visor, a HUD display. Wherever he aimed the barrel of the designator, the crosshairs washed over that.

Paul clicked on his comm-unit. “We’re in position.”

A few seconds passed, and others from other teams reported in. All along the line in front of the path of the approaching GD armor waited hidden and so-far invisible US commandos under SOCOM control.

Paul snorted to himself. The first war fought like this had been in Afghanistan way back in 2001. US Special Forces troops had tagged along with the Northern Alliance, an Afghan group who fought the Taliban. The Special Forces commandos had been in constant radio contact with overhead B-52s or B-1s. The bombers carried guided bombs. The sequence was simple. The Special Forces on the ground moved up on a Taliban stronghold, aimed a laser designator at it, usually at night, and several bombs zoomed down. They hit on or near target and blew the enemy to pieces. The Northern Alliance troops advanced several hours later. Repeat as necessary at each new Taliban stronghold.

In a few weeks of combat, a few dozen US commandos had essentially won the first war against the Taliban.

They weren’t going to use guided bombs today. This was a different era, but using a similar concept.

“You’re on,” a SOCOM operator said. “Light them up.”

“Here goes,” Paul said. He picked his first Kaiser target.

“Luck,” Romo said.

“Yeah,” Paul answered.

LOW EARTH ORBIT

Several weeks ago, the US had taken out the GD space mirrors. Then it launched several new ICBMs and rockets. The GD put up more mirrors. The US took out those, too, but not fast enough to save all the ICBMs.

Despite that, the combined operation proved successful. The reason for the attack and launching was to place more THOR satellites in orbit. Two presently circled the globe in stealth mode.

Those two now deorbited, using the data received from the commandos’ infrared lasers. Soon, bundles of tungsten bars plunged through the atmosphere, heading down toward the nation of Quebec and south of Montreal, heading down at the massed GD armor.

FORWARD BATTLE AREA, QUEBEC

Paul Kavanagh and his blood brother Romo watched one of the most spectacular military events of their careers.

They pinpointed Kaisers, moving from vehicle to vehicle. The info went to high-flying drones. The drones passed it on to the terminal guidance systems of the incoming THOR missiles.

The one hundred-odd Kaisers clanked to the attack. It was the greatest concentration of AI tanks to date. They moved fast: lethal machines of a new age.

No one knew that Hindenburg and Barbarossa had been more wildly successful than their probability programs had predicted. Fully seventy percent of the Kaisers had become newly aware. A new race had appeared on Planet Earth. It might have been interesting to see the outcome. For humanity, however, it most certainly would have been a bad thing.

The Kaisers clawed through the wheat fields. Sigrids followed. They charged the coming American armor. The bulk of the GD air protected them from American air. Unfortunately for the AIs and for Mansfeld, the superiority fighters and UAVs did not protect the newest species from the THOR missiles.

As Paul watched on his HUD, his jaw dropped. Streaks, lines in the sky appeared like magic. They moved incredibly fast. Like Thor’s mythical hammer, each etching line had a point. Those points smashed down into Kaisers.

On the plains of Quebec, metallic, thunderous noises heralded amazing destruction. The heavy tanks vaporized. The heavy tanks exploded. The AI Kaisers popped turrets. They blew treads and some sailed into the air.

Barbarossa radioed Hindenburg. Then Barbarossa ceased to exist, becoming a smoldering pile of metal instead.

Hindenburg fired his 175mm gun. He let his machine guns chatter and his autocannons blast at the sky. He was one of the last to die, killed by a tardy THOR missile. The molten tungsten rod smashed through the turret, devoured and vaporized the inner workings and slammed out of the bottom and into the black earth. Explosions rocked the tank, and shrapnel tore apart his AI core, leaving nothing but sizzling wires that nearly instantly melted together.