Von Neumann’s War

“Right. I can see our men on the west flank. Top is set up on the east. As soon as we get the signal from Top, we’ll start closing in on the metal bastards.” Shane rested for a second and tightened the lid on his plastic canteen. The subswarm of Von Neumann probes still looked like a herd or swarm or flock of creatures milling about the tundra and in no particular hurry. They seemed uninterested in the troops at the moment. Shane hoped it stayed that way. It would make their job a whole hell of a lot easier.

“Sir,” Gregory whispered.

“What?”

“Top’s giving us the go-ahead signal, sir. Orders?”

“Staff Sergeant Gregory, check that all team members are in position and signal the slow advance.” Shane tucked the canteen back in his standard insulated carrier pack and hoped it kept it from freezing since the sun would be going down soon.

“Team’s ready, sir!” Gregory said quietly.

“Move out.”

* * *

Jones and Mahoney had just enough time to catch their breath when Top started signaling for them to get set up. The probes were headed in their general direction and would cover the kilometer or so up the small valley to the ambush point in probably fifteen minutes at the pace they were traveling. That would be just long enough to plant the special riot mines that Major Gries had brought along for the trip.

The mines, as with everything else, had to have exactly zero metallic content. The weapons could be activated in several ways, all of which came down to direct motion and friction.

Mahoney dropped to his knees, looking around and figuring out the best configuration for the mines. Among other things, they didn’t want to “paint themselves into a corner.” The only way to do it was to start at one side and work back to their position. They’d practiced extensively before deploying, but he still needed to get the lay of the land.

“Mine one here,” he said, pointing. He pulled out the carbon fiber digging tool, which looked like a cross between a knife and a spatula, and stabbed it into the ground.

“Crap,” he said as Jones dropped to his knees nearby.

“What?” Jones asked, stabbing in himself. “Hey! It’s fucking rock!”

“Permafrost, you hick,” Mahoney replied digging some of the soil aside. There was only about four inches of soft soil at the point he was digging and then it turned to solid permafrost.

“This sucks,” Jones said, hacking at the ice-bound soil. “What the hell do we do now?”

“Mound them,” Mahoney said, thinking quickly. He dug down as far as he could get, opened up the hole so that the mine could slide in, slid it into the hole and then dug soil from around it until there was a large mound. Packing it in on the sides held the mine in place.

“Now for the tricky part,” he said. He took a long piece of carbon fiber that looked something like a thin whip and screwed it into the top of the mine. With the whip trigger in place he carefully pulled out the safety pin and pocketed it.

“This really sucks,” Jones said, as he got his second mine in place. “Nobody said nothin’ about no permafrost shit.”

“I guess they thought it’d be melted off,” Mahoney said. “Now shut up and dig.”

With the last of the sixteen mines planted, Mahoney tapped Jones on the shoulder and motioned to back off to their cover point. The two specialists slipped back up the valley about thirty meters and took cover in a low spot in the tundra. Jones lay flat on a bed of yellow tundra poppies.

“Did you signal Top?” Jones nudged the other specialist and pulled out his binoculars.

“Shit, I thought you did. Hold,” Mahoney raised to a knee and made a couple of quick hand motions. “Did he see it?”

“Top gave thumbs up. Do the same and get the fuck ready.” Jones set the binoculars on the poppy bed in front of him and took aim with the HE ball gun. Mahoney signaled and readied his HE ball gun and loaded a riot grenade canister in his potato gun.

* * *

“Nelms, when you get the word I want you firing that potato gun as fast as you can, got it?”

“Right, Top! Ready.” Nelms had all ten of the riot canister magazines he and Top had brought strapped across his shoulders on their bandoliers and his potato gun at the ready.

“Okay, hold one.” Top looked to the north and gave the major the signal that they were ready to go and waited for the return signal to go ahead.

* * *

“Sir, west side is ready,” Sergeant Gregory informed the major.

“Good.” Shane readied his potato gun and the Kevlar and Spectra 1000 net that the Huntsville scientists had put together for him.

“All right, troops, remember your orders. We shoot the motherfuckers dead! Every goddamned one of them but the one the major shoots with his special bag. I want suppression fire to keep those damned things from flying away and stay ready with the potato guns.” Staff Sergeant Gregory gave a nod to the major. “Ready, sir.”

“Move out!” Shane gave the go signal to Top on the east flank while Gregory motioned the west flank on.

* * *