Von Neumann’s War

“They land in a tubule and spread. Nothing different. We can expect a tubule to jump from New York City to some other major city soon.” Ronny scribbled some notes on a pad in front of him and tapped wildly at a calculator. “See, following exponential growth, I’d say in a few more days we’ll lose another city.”

“Yeah, I was guessing that but hadn’t run the simulation yet. I’ll get Traci to work out the sims for the President in a bit.”

“Good idea. But, what to do now? We need a strategy at least.”

“Well, I guess we sort of have a strategy. I mean hide and survive as long as we can until we can figure out a way to stop them is a strategy. It’s a tactical approach that we’re completely lacking.”

“Ah, yes. Should we try to defend the cities, blow them up, or let them fall?” Ronny nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Well, of course the President’s tactic is to let them fall. Perhaps he’s right.”

* * *

“I hate it, but you’re goddamned right we should let the cities be.” Sergeant Cady wiped the sweat off his forehead and continued loading the ceramic ammo into the composite troop buggy. “What the hell does it matter if they’re evacuated?”

“I agree, Top.” Shane Gries nodded. “We aren’t gonna beat them by shooting them one on one. There ain’t enough bullets. I think the President is doing the right thing here.”

“Yeah, but I still hate it.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

The pickup truck loaded with what appeared to be everything the family owned had barely made it up the old logging road. The recon bots had stolen the gate weeks before so there was nothing stopping them from driving up the hill to the cabin or to the mine entrance.

It beat all Richard had ever seen. Were these people living in a vacuum? The Internet was all abuzz about how the bots eat metal and how you should stay away from metal and so on. But here was a young man in his late twenties, his wife of about the same age, a toddler maybe three years old, and an infant parading around in an old beat-up extended cab Toyota Tundra that was loaded down with everything from camping gear, mountain bikes, and firearms to strollers, baby gear and kitchen utensils, and cases and cases of canned goods, bottled water, baby food. Even a microwave and television set. There was probably a kitchen sink in it somewhere.

Their approach had tripped some of the fiber-optic sensor cable Richard had stretched out down the road for early warning of visitors, so he and Helena had walked up the mine shaft main tunnel to meet them. Richard hoped he could convince them to leave. He didn’t need any liabilities or distractions from his work. His hope was that they were just lost and needed directions. The fact that these two adults were driving around with these kids and knowing those bots were out there made his skin crawl with fear and anger. He scratched at the nape of his neck and then just shook his head. Helena made no particular telltale signs of being upset that anybody except the man who had been living with her for the past couple of years would notice. She was pissed.

The young man parked the truck about twenty meters from the mine entrance and seemed a little nervous when he saw the odd couple coming out of the mine shaft entrance. To the young man, the old man approaching them appeared to be in his late forties to early fifties, was average size and had a wiry build with graying hair and graying beard. He guessed the woman was in her early to mid-twenties, could tell she had a light complexion since she was wearing cut-off jeans and a tank top; her milky white arms and legs revealed she spent little time in the sun, and her long dark hair suggested a slight “gothic” appearance. What frightened him most was the fact that the young woman was carrying a large homemade club in her left hand and from the looks of the dings in it she had used it on something before.

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll take care of this,” he told his wife.

“Well, whatever. I’ve got to mix the baby a bottle. It’s been nearly three hours since she’s eaten anything.” She shushed the baby and bounced her in her arms. The toddler was strapped in a car seat in the back of the pickup’s extended cab. He was screaming bloody murder.

“Hello.” The young man approached Richard and Helena and smiled timidly.

“ ’Ello,” Helena smiled and nodded at the children. “Look Richard, dey have a beebee with dem,” she said rolling the “r” in Richard.

“Uh huh. Hello, what can I do for you? You are on private property, you know,” Richard didn’t like where this was going. Why weren’t these idiots at a shelter?

“I’m Jeff and that’s my wife Sara Jo. The one in the back screamin’ there is little Jeff, Jr. and the one screamin’ in the front is Precious Anne. We’ve been traveling for a long time. All the way down from Myrtle Beach and we haven’t seen anybody. I took a wrong turn a few miles back, I guess. Where are we?” He offered Richard his hand.