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  “The enemy would certainly have to have thin skin as you call it, to allow bore holes like these,” Morpheus said.

  “Dickson, divide the Cicadas and combat robots into fire teams,” Marlborough said. “Two Cicadas and two support robots per team. Robot operators, give control of the support troops to the respective Mind Refurbs involved with each team. Tread, the remaining mechs are to enter the city proper and spread out with the fire teams. Deploy the mechs at the intersections closest to each team. It’s time for some serious house-to-house cleaning.”

  Dickson proceeded to divvy up the group. Eric and Brontosaurus formed Fire Team C, along with a Savage and a Breacher. Bambi ceded control of the latter two robots to Brontosaurus.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can convince you to give me control of one of the robots?” Eric asked Brontosaurus.

  “Nope,” the heavy gunner replied. “You think I’m going to let a private handle the robots? Ha!”

  “You know that rank has no relation to skill…” Eric said.

  “On the contrary,” Brontosaurus said. “Rank is a reflection of skill, and always will be, Mind Refurb or not.”

  Eric didn’t agree, but he kept quiet.

  “Maybe when you’re a private first class I’ll think about it,” the heavy gunner added.

  Eric’s fire team entered the gap on the eastern side of the base, where the outgoing gate had once been, and they passed into Urdani.

  This was a residential quarter, where low slung, two-story houses of fire brick sprouted side-by-side along the road.

  Brontosaurus had the two support robots on point fifteen meters ahead of himself and Eric. The four of them passed by Fire Teams A and B, who had entered the first two houses on the left.

  The Breacher and Savage units entered the third house, while Eric and Brontosaurus stood watch outside. Eric piped in the feed from the Breacher into the upper right of his vision, and the Savage the upper left, so that he could watch as both of them explored the insides. In the kitchen, there was no cold storage unit or other appliances. In place of a sink was a large hole in the counter that led right into the ground. No pipes.

  “What are we looking for, exactly?” Traps said over the comm.

  “Something, anything out of the ordinary,” Marlborough said. “There has to be some evidence of what happened here. Holler if you find survivors, or any intact pieces of metal.”

  The different fire teams leapfrogged one another as they continued to explore the different houses along the eastern perimeter. As they moved toward the former front lines, and the downtown core, the buildings became taller and included apartment buildings and offices. Some were built in the newer fashion, with concrete and rebar, others were the traditional fire brick. The buildings also began to show sign of damage, with blast holes and collapsed sections, courtesy of the previous battles against the insurgents.

  The fire teams began to pair up to more quickly clear the apartments and condos in this section. The Mind Refurbs also joined in, rather than leaving everything up to the support troops, and Eric and Brontosaurus were no exception.

  Thus it was that Eric and Brontosaurus found themselves in one of the condo suites, moving between the different rooms.

  “Looks like a fight took place here at some point,” Brontosaurus said, eyeing a big hole in the floor that led to the suite below. “Either against insurgents, or whatever came after.”

  Eric studied the bore holes in the wall. There were at least ten, all formed from lasers of an intensity strong enough to penetrate straight through the dry wall and into the adjacent suite.

  That was when he saw his first glint of metal. “Bronto, got something.”

  Brontosaurus hurried in from the adjacent room. “What do you got?”

  Eric stood next to the wall. He pointed toward the bore hole in front of him, which contained the metal object. “I’m not sure what it is. Maybe some sort of micro machine. On zoom, I can pick out legs. A proboscis of some kind, between mandibles. And even wings.”

  Brontosaurus came to his side. “Looks like it’s damaged. One of the wings is ripped, do you see that? And look at the odd shape of the body. You got tiny legs on one side, but no matching legs on the other. It’s like the entire left half is missing.”

  “Maybe it was burned away by the laser impact?” Eric said.

  “Possibly.” The heavy gunner cocked his head. “Step aside.”

  Eric did so.

  Brontosaurus approached the bore hole.

  “Sarge, we’ve finally found some metal,” Brontosaurus transmitted. “Sending video imagery now.”

  “Got it,” Marlborough said. “Looks like some sort of metal insect.”

  “Our best guess, it’s some kind of micro machine,” Brontosaurus said.

  “All right, don’t touch it,” Marlborough said. “If this thing is part of what caused all metal in the city to disappear, we need to be very careful. I’m sending Fire Team B to back you up. When they arrive, collect a sample. Morpheus, you have some experience as a military scientist?”

  “I was a scientist after I left the army, yes,” Morpheus said.

  “Then you join Fire Team B, and accept the sample for analysis,” Marlborough said.

  “You got it,” Morpheus said.

  Brontosaurus recalled the Breacher and Savage, and then all four waited for Fire Team B to arrive. A short time later Slate and Eageleye stepped through the door, accompanied by Morpheus and two combat robots.

  “So what do we have?” Morpheus stepped toward the laser-riddled wall.

  “A micro machine of some kind,” Eric said. “Looks vaguely insectile.”

  Brontosaurus noticed Slate staying back near the entrance. “What’s wrong, tough guy? Scared of a little bug?”

  “Nothing, I’m guarding the entrance,” Slate said.

  “Don’t you want to see what this thing looks like?” Brontosaurus asked.

  “I ain’t getting close to that thing,” Slate said. “I had my fill from the transmission Scorp sent.”

  Brontosaurus shrugged, and then returned his attention to the borehole.

  “Scorp, reach into my pouch,” Brontosaurus said. “I have a vial and a pair of tweezers inside.”

  “You carry a pair of tweezers with you at all times?” Eric said.

  “Sampling kit,” Brontosaurus said. “Never leave home without it.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t born in my century?” Eric said. “That sounds vaguely like a credit card ad from my day.”

  “What’s a credit card?” Brontosaurus said.

  “Never mind.” Eric approached.

  Brontosaurus could have released his weapon mounts, causing the bulky heavy guns to drop to the floor and thereby freeing up his hands, but why bother when he had a handy low ranking grunt like Eric nearby?

  Eric reached Brontosaurus and opened up the pouch hanging from the heavy gunner’s utility belt. The smell of oil was rank on the robot. Well, at least it wasn’t garlic. Even so, Eric toned down his olfactory sensitivity.

  He reached into the pouch and fished out a small glass vial, along with a pair of tweezers, from among the curios, which included small spare power cells.

  He stepped away from the heavy gunner, opened the vial, and then lifted the tweezers toward the hole.

  “Careful…” Morpheus said.

  “I don’t think one little inactive micro machine can hurt me,” Eric said.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” Morpheus said. “I don’t want the micro machine damaged.”

  “Oh.” Eric wrapped the tweezers around the metal body and then pinched them together very slightly. Then he lifted it, removing the tiny machine from the bore hole. He quickly deposited it inside the vial and then sealed the lid. He promptly gave it to Morpheus.

  “Thank you,” Morpheus said. She held the vial up to eye level. “Beautiful.”

  “What do you mean?” Brontosaurus said. “It doesn’t look all that differen
t from other micro machines the Russians and Chinese have built. Nor our own government, for that matter.”

  “At first glance, yes,” Morpheus said. “But if you zoom in, really zoom in, you can see the incredible detail. This micro machine is unlike anything we’ve ever seen before.”

  “You think it’s alien?” Eric asked.

  “I’d guess no,” Morpheus said. “But then again, it’s really too early to say.”

  Eric stepped back to Brontosaurus. He was about to return the tweezers to the pouch hanging from the heavy gunner’s belt, when he noticed something he hadn’t before: the pincer sections at the tip of the tweezers had partially melted away. It was just a tiny amount, but the damage was present.

  “Odd,” Eric said.

  “What is it?” Brontosaurus said.

  Eric showed him the tweezers.

  “Morpheus, get rid of the vial!” Brontosaurus said.

  “Why?” Morpheus said.

  “It’s using metal from the tweezers to reconstitute itself—” Brontosaurus said.

  The glass shattered before he could finish.

  16

  Eric watched helplessly as the tiny insect landed on her body.

  Morpheus screamed.

  She moved in a blur, obviously having switched to Bullet Time. Clanks sounded repeatedly, a machine-gun fire of rat-a-tats as she swatted at her composite shell in an attempt to squash the micro machine.

  But then she froze.

  “Where is it?” Brontosaurus asked.

  “Inside me,” Morpheus said, the dread obvious in her voice. “It entered through my fan vent.”

  Her blue eyes became dark, and she slumped forward.

  One of the Savages darted forward and promptly loaded her onto its back. No doubt Brontosaurus was instructing the robot.

  “Sarge, we got a problem here,” Brontosaurus transmitted.

  “I saw it on the feed,” Marlborough said. “The rest of us are on our way. Stay put for now. I want you to clear well away from her. Get ready to evacuate the suite, if need be.”

  The Savage lowered Morpheus to the floor, and the rest of the unit proceeded to the foyer. There was an old-style wooden door at the entrance, covered in white paint like the walls.

  Eric interfaced with Morpheus’ remote interface. “I’m reading weak brain activity… her AI core is still online.” AI cores ran on a small power independent of the mains, which allowed the mind to remain intact if the body failed. “Permission to extract her AI core?”

  “Do it,” Brontosaurus said.

  Eric went to her, and swung her onto her back. He retrieved his tools from the pouch he carried at his own waist, and activated moderate Bullet Time. He moved quickly, opening up those screws, until he was able to open up the chest plate. When he removed it, he stepped back in shock.

  Her insides were crawling with more of the micro machines. They were digesting the different circuits and other metal-polycarbonate composites of her interior, and repurposing the material to create new micro machines. They were essentially runaway, reconstructive 3D printers.

  “I told you I wasn’t getting near that thing!” Slate said. The words were slow, drawn out, thanks to the Bullet Time.

  “Get away from her!” Brontosaurus said.

  “I can still reach her AI core!” Eric said, diverting his speech process to Dee, so that his Accomp could pronounce the words at a rate matching the perceived time sense of the others.

  “No, it’s too late,” Brontosaurus said. “We can’t help her. We’re getting the hell out. Now!”

  Eric ran a quick scan on the micro machines, wanting to gather as much data as he could, then he retreated, backing away.

  Some of the micro machines began to take flight then. They landed on the surrounding walls, and crawled about, as if searching for more metal. Some of them headed directly for him. He amped up Bullet Time even higher and darted toward the foyer. The others were already beginning to flee by then.

  He passed right by them and snapped his time sense back to normal when he entered the hall outside.

  Slate, Eagleeye, and Brontosaurus poured out of the room, along with the four support robots; Brontosaurus threw a grenade inside before slamming the door shut behind him. The micro machines began to impact it on the other side: it sounded like hail striking a tin roof.

  The grenade detonated inside, and then there was silence.

  “We lost Morpheus!” Brontosaurus transmitted.

  Morpheus.

  Eric remembered sleeping with her and Bambi. And now she was gone.

  He could still see the way her cheeks dimpled so cutely when she smiled in VR. She had always stood up for him during training, taking his side when the rest of the team wanted to haze him, the newbie.

  Good bye, my friend. You deserved better than this.

  “Roger that,” Marlborough said. “Get the hell out of there!”

  The hail sound resumed. Sawdust began to trickle from the surface of the door at random locations.

  Eric and Brontosaurus exchanged a worried glance.

  “I said get the hell out of there!” Marlborough ordered.

  The squad promptly retreated down the hall, away from the room.

  Eric accessed his rear cam; holes riddled the door, and the micro machines were clambering outside. They were swarming around the different nearby surfaces, though several were flying in pursuit of the squad.

  “Oh shit,” Slate said. “Did I ever tell you I hate bugs?”

  They reached the stairwell door and kicked it open, hurrying inside. Slate slammed it shut behind them.

  They raced to the bottom of the building and entered the lobby. Marlborough and a few others had gathered inside. “Come on, we’re waiting outside!”

  They dashed onto the street. Four Ravager mechs led the way on point, while the other four followed on drag.

  “So where to?” Frogger asked.

  “We’re going to have to take shelter in another building,” Marlborough said. “I’m looking at suitable candidates on the map as we speak.”

  “Yeah, but what’s going to protect us from those termites?” Slate said. “You didn’t see how easily they drilled through that wall. Or digested Morpheus. Poor girl.”

  “He’s right,” Eric said. “No shelter will hold them off indefinitely. Even if we’re behind a six inch steel barrier.”

  “Assuming they can find us,” Frogger said. “I say we take shelter immediately. Before they emerge from the building and spot us on whatever sensor systems they have.”

  “How do we know they haven’t already emerged?” Eagleeye said. “Sure, some of them followed us into the hallway. But the rest could have easily burst directly from the suite’s window.”

  “There might have been other micro machines lying dormant in the city as well,” Crusher said. “Left behind by the enemy for just such an occurrence as this.”

  “Gah!” Tread said. “The Ravager on rear guard!”

  Eric glanced at his rear view feed. The trailing mech had toppled over. From its back emerged a small swarm of several freshly produced micro machines.

  “Don’t stop!” Marlborough said.

  “I don’t intend to!” Slate said. “Robot termites! Piece of crap robot termites!”

  More of the micro machines swooped down from above, joining the swarm above the mech. It tried to get up, but its servomotors dissolved as Eric watched, and the Ravager collapsed helplessly.

  The swarm broke into two parts, with one horde staying behind to convert the mech, and the remaining pursuing the Bolt Eaters.

  The trailing mechs opened fire with their laser turrets, easily dissolving individual micro machines, but otherwise not harming the whole of the swarm. Eric could see why the damage recorded on the base walls seemed to point to lasers at full intensity—those micro machines hardly consumed any of the energy at all.

  But it wasn’t enough to stop the whole slew of them.

  One mech fired a missile, and it ex
ploded amid the horde. That incinerated some of the micro machines near the core of the swarm, but otherwise only forced outward the remainder, which continued the pursuit. Oh, and the two trailing mechs were sprayed with shrapnel composed of those micro machines.

  “Uh, I think we just lost two more mechs,” Hyperion said.

  “Tell the goddamn Ravagers to stop using their missiles!” Marlborough said. “And I want those last two mechs taken out before they can transform into more of those termites!”

  “Actually, I don’t think it will help,” Hank said. “These micro machines can probably convert the mechs even if we reduce them to scrap metal. Might be better if we simply steered the mechs away. Maybe it will draw some of the insects.”

  “Do it,” Marlborough ordered.

  The two trailing mechs turned away in seemingly random directions. The swarm divided into three parts: two to pursue the infected mechs, and a third to continue the pursuit of the remaining Bolt Eaters.

  The final mech on drag continued its laser barrage.

  “What about grenades, Sarge?” Eric said.

  “Why would grenades work any more effectively than missile?” Marlborough said. “You’ll just spray yourself with termite shrapnel, and they’ll convert you in the end.”

  “I mean a pulse grenade?” Eric asked.

  “Worth a try,” Marlborough said.

  Eric slowed down until he was close to the rear of the platoon, and then he ripped a pulse grenade from his harness and threw it. Manticore and Bambi had the same idea, and the three of them tossed their pulse grenades at the same time, hurling them over the heads of the trailing Ravager.

  The grenades detonated at nearly the same time, in the middle of the swarm.

  Electricity sparked outward from each one, tearing into the micro machines from several random plasma channels. Swathes of the termites dropped to the asphalt.

  “That’s doing it…” Eric said. “No chance of being hit with termite shrapnel with the pulse grenades!”

  Eric tossed his second and final pulse grenade, and then moved forward so that others could have a throw.

  “We don’t have enough pulse grenades!” Hyperion said. “There’s too many of them!”