Von Neumann’s War

“The problem, Mr. President, is that this type of communication signal is not like standard radio. It’s more like a broadband wireless connection. You see, you can pump out a lot of data over the link, but due to the physics of how they work even higher power transceivers are limited to a few hundred meters or so.” Of course it was more complicated even than the most sophisticated human broadband technologies, but the principle and the physics were the same. This wasn’t the final answer to ridding humanity of the alien Von Neumann probes but it was a start and Roger wanted to get this information out to the President as soon as he could. Which was why they were using an Internet video call.

“So, could we set up safe zones the way the airports and cybercafés used to have wifi zones?” the NSA asked.

“Absolutely. And I’m even thinking we could mount them on vehicles and they might work,” Ronny Guerrero added. “We’re effectively spoofing the bots’ IFF capabilities.”

“That’s right, Ronny. I’ve got my team modifying some broadband wireless routers to transmit the signal. It should work. We have to hope the bots don’t get wise to our plan.”

Roger had finally done something that might help. Oh, he knew he didn’t do it himself. But his project had. He had put the right team together, found the right experts when they needed them, and acquired the right resources. It had worked at least enough to offer some hope. The first hope he had felt in the months since he saw the intel on what was left of Europe and how people were living — no, surviving — there.

“We should use this IBot thing and start a plan of action and go after these things,” General Mitchell suggested.

“Well, we can’t mass produce them fast enough for an all-out invasion. But we believe we can produce enough to set up a perimeter over four or five redoubt areas within the next month,” Roger said.

“A month! Those things will have eaten more than a hundred cities by then!” the secretary of defense shouted. “We found out where the major tube was headed; it dropped square on Oakland. Now they’re spreading on the west coast as well!”

“Actually, a hundred and twenty-five cities at the current rate of growth,” Roger replied. “But I’m sorry, sir, that is best we can do for now. We can choose the redoubts and start evacuating everybody to them now.”

“Then how long will it take to manufacture enough of these, uh, IBots did you call them? How long will it take to make enough of them to go after the invaders?”

“Current rate of growth versus our manufacturing capabilities suggest perhaps a few years, sir,” Roger admitted with a sigh. “We’re behind the eight ball. But it will help with local defense. Just getting the darn things to slow down is a miracle.”

“Don’t forget, Mr. President, that this is a defense mechanism and we just now learned how the bots communicate,” Ronnie added. “We might develop new technologies and strategies sooner. But right now, this is the best chance we’ve got to slow them down.”

“I guess this is something. So, Kevin, you and Jim and Vicki get the rest of the Joint Chiefs together and determine which are the most strategic redoubts and let’s get this move started now.” For so long he had been sitting idle with little hope and no plan of action. At least now they had something. It wasn’t much, but not-zero was entirely different from zero.

* * *

“Richard.” Jeff handed him the last of the strapping material. “I can’t tell you how grateful Sara Jo and I are to you and Helena. We… uh… we would…”

“You’d be dead, Jeff,” Richard said emotionlessly. “You’d be dead, your wife would be dead and your kids would be dead. Hand me the RoboGrips… uh, no the big ones.” Jeff handed him the grips, trying not to shake his head over Richard’s entire lack of tact. Richard tightened down the last of the lag bolts through the bot’s midsection to the waterwheel and then he tightened the strapping material down. “There. That should just about do it.” He crawled back down the ladder to the platform below the waterwheel. The cool mist of the waterfall soaked his skin refreshingly.

“Well, we’re running out of baby formula for Precious. I know there is some canned milk here but I don’t know if that’s good enough for a baby.” Jeff backed down the steps off the platform looking at Richard, who was paying him little attention.

“Okay let’s see if this works,” Richard said, ignoring the problem of Jeff’s baby. He tapped a few keys on his laptop and stopped the IBot transmission to the bot. The damaged bot stopped handshaking with the IBot and resumed its functions. Its damaged propulsion drive kicked on.