Toy Wars by Thomas Gondolfi Read Free Book Online Page A

Six.”
    “Six.”
    “Arrived at Alpha-4 to find garrison destroyed by animal attack. Request the following additional units: two hundred Tommy Tank s and one hundred balloons.”
    “Request in process. Will advise.”
    “ All other unordered units limber trenching tools. Tommy Tank s mount dozer blades. I want 1 - meter trenches dug following these coordinates. Heap the excavated materials on the inner edge.”
    As I watched the cloud rising from the industry , “landscape architect” came to mind. The Humans’ term didn’t quite fit what I was doing. My sump cycled through to a better one — combat ecology. In short t he best defense for this barren expanse of worthless flatland was to make it less flat.
    Three hours later, as I helped two Tommy Tank s leverage a boulder out of the way, my Factory’s booming voice came over the net : “Six to Teddy 1499 . ”
    I replied , “1499 here ,” as I wiped the accum ulated dust off my eyes .
    “Partial shipment of 40 percent of requested reinforcements en route. Remainder of shipment denied.”
    “Affirmative.” I would have to make this work with a short garrison. Six obviously had other requirements. Assuming standard travel time and no surprises, I would receive another eighty tanks within four days and the balloons much sooner because they flew at moderately high speeds .
    Balloons were silent and deadly. They could float over a target and hit every time if the opponent didn’t know they were there . At the same time, they w ere also remarkably easy to disable . One bullet and down they came, usually with their munitions armed . More gray outlines in my memory were being colored in from past experiences of the d isabled balloon units falling among their own comrades and creating mass friendly - fire casualties. Six’s new order required that the balloon units lift from outside your own encampment . I could understand why .
    The arrival of the balloon reinforcement s the next morning didn’t surprise me. Even through the great cloud of dust we still generated , e very unit under my command identified the gaudy, floating parade of colors bobbing along in the air long before they could be queried as friend or foe over the net.
    Deadly if not seen, very vulnerable if spotted. These units were manufactured in all the incredible gaudy color s of the rainbow . Nothing is yellow or blue, much less green , on this world. They were about as sneaky and subtle as a high-speed train with a damaged wheel. I ordered the group to a landing zone a few dozen meters short of our location.
    How could our flyer s hope to sneak up on anything in those garish color s ? The thought continued to trouble me as we worked hard through the next full day, with only mandatory oil cool - down periods. During one of these breaks I received a level four objection from a Nurse Nan as she replaced the thirty - fourth clogged filter of the day. I ambled over to check on the unit she worked on.
    It was a gopher, covered in the red dust that clung and covered all of us. His hands caught my attention. I nstead of the uniform brown and gray as they had been manufactured , mottled carmine streaks covered them .
    “Gopher 124, what was your assignment for the last two standard days?” I could have gotten the information directly from the net, but truth be told I was lonely for another voice.
    “I was assigned to be transported to S ector Alpha-4 by rail.” Its voice was cold and mechanical with no animation in it. “That assignment was still being processed as of forty-eight hours ago. At fourteen-sixteen and thirty-seven seconds yesterday, L+13y230d, I was given a LAN order to help untie Tommy Tank unit L1423. After completing this task I was ordered, once again by a net command, to assume a defensive posture with a threat axis of 23 degrees east of north. After ninety-six minutes and fifteen seconds I was ordered, by cascade, to d ig trenches from grid fourteen sixteen to twelve thirty . I spent