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LEGACY

Todd Johnson

"Timmin!" The shout was lost among the sound of detonating shells. The cave lay somewhere ahead—wherever ahead was.

Heedless of the explosions bracketing her, Erena Calgary ran back into the crater made just seconds ago. The crater that had opened between her and Timmin as he ran behind her.

She jumped down into the crater and found the boy sprawled face down in the dirt. Quickly she turned him over. "Timmin!" She shouted with her mouth cupped to his ear. No breath. No pulse. She scoured his mouth clear with a dirt-grimed finger, forced two quick breaths from her lungs into his, straddled his body and thrust on his chest to pump his heart,

"One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five! Breathe!" Erena shouted the steps like a mantra as she thrust and breathed. "One . . . two . . three . . . four . . . five! Breathe!"

Something tugged at Erena's sleeve but she ignored it, intent only on reviving the boy. She imagined his heaving gasp, his lungs straining to draw in air, the tears running from his eyes.

"One . . . two . . . three . . . four—" A nearby detonation drowned out the sound of her shouting even to her own ears.

Something tugged at her sleeve again—hard. Erena glanced to her side. A young girl stood next to her, gesticulating wildly and mouthing words unheard over the roar of the barrage.

"Go on, Leander! Get to the shelter!" Erena shouted irritably. She stopped long enough to gesture emphatically but the girl stayed put, tugging on her sleeve and trying to grab her hand.

"—dead! He's dead!" Leander's voice came through a momentary lull. It was drowned out again by another wave of explosions.

Erena shook the girl off and returned to her CPR. "One . . . two—dammit, Leander, I said go!" This last as her sleeve was tugged again. Irritably, Erena made to push the girl in the direction she thought was right for the cave but found herself touching something else. A leg.

It was severed well above the knee. Leander held it in both hands, waving it imploringly at Erena. It was Timmin's leg. Erena slapped the girl in irate shock, causing her to drop the severed limb. Then, as realization sank in, Erena turned to look over her shoulder.

A bitter stain of blood marked the earth where Timmin's life had drained away. The blood had soaked deep into the earth, too much to imagine. "He's dead, he's dead!" Leander's sobs came through another lull. "Let's go, Erena, let's go, please!"

Numbed, Erena let herself be led away by the little girl. All around them rained falling dirt, rocks, and boulders churned up by the bombardment. Their chests reverberated painfully with each new detonation, as though their own organs were going to explode from within.

An explosion just behind them threw them to the ground. Erena looked back across the pocked landscape but could see no sign of Timmin.

"Come on!" Leander cried. "This way! Crawl!"

Erena followed the little girl obediently.

"—not far!" The girl's voice carried through another lull in the bombardment.

No, not far at all Erena thought to herself. Two, maybe three hundred meters.

They crawled on, hugging the ground—being thrust from the ground as explosions burst around them.

Damn fools! Why can't they hit us? Erena swore to herself.

The little girl urged her on.

And who ever would have thought of using physical weapons? Erena asked herself again—yet without the hint of grudging admiration she'd had three weeks ago.

Dirt stopped raining on them. A hood covered the sky. No, not a hood—the cave.

The two warriors crawled into the last refuge of mankind. The shelling outside dispersed, slowed to a trickle, then stopped.

Erena stood up, grabbed Leander's hand, moved under and around the invisible barrier that guarded the cave entrance and into the coolness of the sanctuary.

Inside, Erena leaned against the cold stone of the cave wall, hugging Leander against her.

"We're safe," Erena said. Safe. The thought echoed bitterly inside her. Timmin was gone.

Leander looked up at her, tried a small, grimy smile—failed—and broke into heaving sobs of hysterical grief.

Erena hugged the girl tightly to her. Leander's head rested just below Erena's breasts. I must be careful with her, Erena told herself. After me, she's the eldest.

Erena looked down at the eleven-year-old hugging her and gently stroked her head. At thirty-one, Erena Calgary was oldest.

 

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Erena distinguished the looks on the faces surrounding her. Grimy, small, wide-eyed, the children bore expressions ranging from reproachful to ravaged.

Some stared blankly ahead, eyes unseeing, but most stared at her.

"Come on," Erena said, leading them back down into the deeper caves. Leander let out some final sob, gave Erena's hand a squeeze, and fell to the rear of the children to herd them forwards.

No one could say how long ago the caves had been built, but Erena was certain they had been constructed somehow. The caves were so old that they bore the straight and square appearance of things built with macro-tools, instead of the delicate, rounded shapes that the nannies would have elegantly produced.

Erena had only just learned about macro-tools in the past week as she accessed the data on implements of gross change. The data was so infrequently accessed that the nannies had only the barest hints left in their collective memories. In her search, she had learned of coal-mining, of steel-making—and had picked up something about tremendously powerful storage vessels or tanks but the accounts were garbled.

She would have learned more if only Timmin hadn't run out and got killed. But the boy would not believe that his father would not come back—was no more.

Nano-machines were potent but it took concentrated effort to keep them on program; without Timmin, Erena would have to work much harder to keep even the basics going. Worse, she would have to spend extra time teaching Leander and—who was the next eldest?—Swotti the finer points of handling the nannies.

Not that handling the nano-machines was much effort—all you had to do was think. Unfortunately, the nannies were very literal and getting them to do complex things like light the way and make heat required no small amount of attention. Coupled with diffusing effects of the younger children's daydreams, Erena had more work than she could handle even with the help of elder, more mature children.

Simpler things, like keeping things the way they were, required much less of the nannies. Although with the bombing outside it was very difficult to keep things the way they were—especially as the nannies had a difficult time realizing what was supposed to be and what was now.

What Erena couldn't get the nannies to do at all was tell her why mankind was being bombed out of existence on this planet. Or what was doing the bombing. Or where the bombers were. Or who controlled the bombers.

Clearly it was some terrible misunderstanding—an accident or something. Whoever was doing it must have not seen the warning signs, not have noticed the clear indications that the planet had been reserved for human life and was already occupied by humans. As soon as it could be explained, Erena was sure, the problem would go away and there would be tears of apology and horror.

I must tell them. That was the problem, Erena was sure. Somehow she had to tell them. The other attempts must have been misunderstood or not recognized.

Up ahead the light of the nannies dimmed and flickered. Erena looked around, scouting for Leander. "Leander! Concentrate! Light and heat, more light than heat."

Far behind her, Leander heard the call, looked up and nodded glumly. Shortly, the light increased.

"Swotti!" Erena called. A dark-haired young girl looked up at her. "You help."

"I can help, too." A small voice piped up. Erena caught sight of red-haired Alik.

"Yes, you can," Erena agreed, her voice lifting for the first time since she'd returned to the cave. "Think some more light for us, please."

Overhead, the light rippled, then spread down the sides of the walls. A wave of heat flowed over them.

"Only on the top, Alik, on the top," Swotti scolded.

They reached the first ramp heading down—it had been stairs but Erena had had the nannies fix that. Two more ramps and they would be at the bottom.

Suddenly the ground dropped away from her, then lurched upwards, throwing her off balance. As she fell, Erena could feel her body being squeezed by a giant concussion. Behind her, children screamed.

It was dim when Erena opened her eyes again. Something was shaking her. Why was it so dim? She felt for the nannies, thought that they should make light and not so much warmth—she was very warm—but the light grew only a little bit brighter.

"Erena," a voice called. It was distant, blurred. She was warm, wrapped—a hand scratched her face. Erena felt dirt being stroked off her.

"Erena!" The voice was Alik's, nearly frantic with terror.

" 'Salright," Erena muttered. Dirt fell into her mouth and she spit it back out again. She flexed her arms to move, tried to sit up. Her right arm felt numb, slack.

"She's here!" Alik called out.

Well of course I'm here, Erena thought to herself. What's dirt doing on me? Erena thought the dirt away from her but it didn't move. Someone had given the nannies conflicting orders.

"Don't do that, please," Alik told her, eyes going wide. "Just me—" again he swept dirt off her.

"Why not?" Erena asked, spitting out more dirt.

" 'Cos I can't tell if you're burying the others."

With that, Erena came fully awake with a rush of horror. She felt around, thought to the nannies, searched for the children. How many? The nannies came back with the answer—forty-two. Erena sighed her relief, then went cold again. How were they? She framed her question carefully, asking something she'd never asked before. The answer was bad—thirteen were buried or half-buried—twelve children were still, crushed . . . dead.

"And," Alik's voice was puzzled, worried, "something's happening to the nannies."

 

TRACKING SEQUENCER ALERT. POSITIVE THREAT EVENT DETECTED. FULL SYSTEM POWER-UP INITIATED.

 

I am awake. My sensors have detected a nuclear explosion.

From seismic activity, I estimate it to have been the equivalent of 10 megatons. The hermetic container in which I was seated has been breached. The preservative inert gas which surrounded me is leaking out, being replaced by standard atmosphere—with exceptionally high radioactivity.

Analysis of radioactivity rates indicate that the explosion was caused by a fissile weapon rather than a malfunction or failure. The weapon clearly was not a thermonuclear type. The weapon was very dirty and very close.

That is in violation of standard agreements. I must inform Command.

My power supplies are strangely low. My fusion reactor core is thoroughly functional—power up sequences initiated. Some of my memory circuits are damaged. The damage is random, due to age. Based on standard aging, I determine that I have been inactive for 11783.8 years.

Fusion reactor on-line. Batteries recharged. I shall test the rest of my systems.

My standard radios are inoperative. I shall try sub-space frequencies. No response. Individual action is indicated.

Weapons check indicates that all major weapons are depleted. The Hellbore central casings have debonded, the filaments of my infinite repeaters have become embrittled and cracked, the propellants in my simplest rocket-propelled units have decayed.

I am an armored chassis only, weaponless.

 

Erena organized the digging as soon as she had freed herself from the dirt. It was easy enough with the nannies to distinguish the living buried children from the dead. Only part of the tunnel had collapsed. She put those children lucky enough to be free to work digging out the others. It was simply not possible for her to imagine what the tunnel had been like before its collapse and get the nannies to restore it.

While she worked, and organized the others, she checked out the nannies. Alik was right about them.

They were not performing as well as they should. Erena got the impression that they were crippled somehow. Her sharpest thoughts they expressed poorly. White light on the ceiling was white in some places, orange in others. Of course, with so many little children all confused and frightened, it was just as likely that the nannies were simply being thought at improperly.

Erena's queries of the nannies brought back a faint image of bright light, heat, and atoms breaking. She knew about natural decay and knew that the nannies were always suffering somewhat from the ravages of background radiation—a stray alpha particle could destroy the delicate processes of a nanny—but such things were rare and easily accounted for. Many atoms breaking at once, large amounts of radiation—that would destroy many nannies and damage others. Where had the radiation come from?

"Come on, we're going down into the caves!" Erena called out to the children as soon as she got an answer from the nannies. The radiation had come from outside. Had come from where the bombs had been dropping before. There had been quite a lot of radiation. The nannies offered, unasked, another observation—the radiation was dangerous to humans, particularly young children.

"But what about Jerina?" a girl asked plaintively.

The nannies told Erena that Jerina was dead. "She's staying here. Come along!"

Erena's decisiveness and cheerful tone guided the children after her. They made their way down the next two ramps, avoiding fallen rocks and slides of dirt, arriving at the bottom-most cave—their home—in short order.

It was a mess. One whole corner had caved in, slides where parts of the walls had given way dotted the sides, rocks and mounds of dirt littered the floor—the remaining nannies and those Erena had ordered to follow them down cast only pale light in the once warm cavern.

"Look, there's a hole!" Swotti cried, pointing. She ran over before Erena could react. "I can see through. There's something—"

"Swotti, get back!" Erena cried as the wall shuddered. She ran forward and pulled the youngster away as a large section of the wall collapsed. Erena shrieked as a large slab threw her to the ground.

 

Tracks engaged 2% forward motion. Resistance. I increase power. Sensors indicate that I have reached the end of the hermetic container. I press forward, distending the container, breaching it.

I will not be able to sense beyond the container walls until my bow sensors have cleared it.

 

"Erena!" Swotti yelled in her ear. Erena stole a moment from the pain lancing up her thigh to curse the youngster for being so thoughtlessly loud.

"Quiet, Swotti!" Erena snarled. The volume of the girl's scream did nothing to improve the pain lancing through her.

Leander rushed up to them. "Erena?"

"My leg!" she replied through gritted teeth.

"Alik, come here!" Leander called. The red-haired boy joined them at breakneck speed, stopping at Leander's side. "Erena's been hurt, we have to help her."

Erena found a moment to marvel at the girl's calm demeanor. Leander had behaved the same way with Timmin. The thought chilled her.

"Alik, come on!" Swotti cried.

The boy stood still, staring up at the wall. "There's something there."

As he said it, Erena felt the pressure on her legs increase and heard a groaning as the wall gave way further and fell forwards.

 

My movements have collapsed the hermetic containment vessel Data in my memory indicates that the container was an experimental storage module and not thoroughly tested at the time I was placed inside on inactive duty. The behavior of this containment vessel under my exertions is not determinable, however I must ascertain a route to gain further access to data on this violation. I move forward carefully.

A loud noise—a human shriekfemale. My forward sensors are not fully functional port and starboard. I must move forwards. The female screams louder. I sense a plasmoid object underneath my starboard outboard track—thermal scanners identify it as the lower part of a human body. It is the female who is screaming. I have crushed her lower body.

 

Shock, that's what the nannies called it. The pain from her crushed legs dulled out, felt dim and distant from her. Erena could concentrate on the wall of metal over her, could examine in horrifying detail the huge metal treads which had rolled over her, crushing her between the ground and a slab of the fallen wall.

The nannies could not fix the damage, they apologized. The extent of the damage was great, they said. Erena took their assessment of her crushed knees, legs, and pelvis in a strange detachment. Blood vessels were ruptured, smashed to pulp, nerves were severed, strangled under the weight of the metal monstrosity. It's just like Timmin's leg.

The nannies were concerned that she would die without some intervention. They warned that the intervention would leave some permanent, unrecoverable damage. Erena ordered them to proceed. Whatever had happened, she must live—she was the last adult.

"Leander, Alik, Swotti—help the nannies," Erena said, startled that her words came out as a hoarse gasp.

The children stood rooted in horror. Swotti, oddly, unfroze first and closed her eyes childishly in concentration. Leander recovered next, gave Erena a sheepish look followed by a grim smile and added her direction to the nannies.

As the pain lessened, Erena added her own agile thoughts in controlling the nannies. As a Survey officer, she knew about injuries and medical treatment and could do far more than the children who could only wish her the way she had been.

The nannies stitched blood vessels together, kept her femoral artery from bursting, stunned nerve endings, melded shattered bone. The nannies let some blood seep out of her body to reduce the abnormally high pressures distending her blood vessels.

Erena sensed that her grasp of medicine was too small to direct the nannies much beyond the simple first aid they were applying. Thankfully, the nannies reported no damage to her reproductive system.

"It's a machine," Alik said suddenly, his piping voice piercing the intent silence of the others. Erena glanced his way, then back up at the towering mass of metal. "It's like the nannies, only—big!"

"Nonsense," Erena snapped, as much in disbelief as in pain, "nothing is that big."

 

Glottal shifts, fricative slides—the language is identifiable but massively changed.

 

"Please identify yourselves." A loud booming voice intoned deeply. Alik's eyes bulged. Swotti let out one startled squeak then rushed to Erena's side in a curious mixture of terror and protectiveness. Leander stood still, carefully looking over the huge shape scant meters in front of her.

Erena put a reassuring hand on Swotti's arm. "I am Lieutenant Erena Calgary, who are you?"

"Lieutenant," the voice noted. "You are party to this war?"

The children looked at Erena questioningly.

"War?" she muttered to herself, starting the nannies on a search of their memories. The word was tantalizing, almost in the memory of the nannies—connected to explosions and bombs.

"The detonation of a ten megaton nuclear weapon occurred within one kilometer of this location: that is an act of war."

Strange terms, Erena mused. She understood "detonation" and "nuclear"; "megaton" was apparently applied in a different manner than she was accustomed to hearing.

"What is war?" Leander asked.

"A child, female, pre-pubescent, perhaps twelve standard years. Probable non-combatant," the voice decided. "Lieutenant, why haven't you answered me?"

"Your question makes no sense," Erena replied. She wondered where the other children had gotten to and whether they were in danger from the radiation.

"You are an officer?"

"Yes."

"Are you not engaged in a conflict?"

"Conflict—as in when two people disagree?"

"As in prolonged warfare," the voice answered irritably. "I do not understand why you are being stubborn in this matter."

"Leave her alone!" Swotti cried. "Get your stinking metal off of her and go away!" Only Erena's tightened grip kept the girl from charging towards the dark center of the voice.

"I believe that would be unwise in the present circumstances," the voice responded. "I think you should consider your lieutenant my prisoner."

" 'Prisoner?"

"That's a strange word," Swotti declared, brows puckered.

"The nannies say that it's like someone who's been misdirecting them," Alik said.

"Nannies?" the voice repeated. "Are you under surrogate care?"

"The nannies care for us," Swotti agreed, looking to Erena for confirmation. "We tell them what to do and they do it."

"We don't tell them," Alik corrected her harshly, "we think—"

"Where are they? I must speak with them."

The children giggled. Alik and Swotti threatened to get out of control. Erena noticed it, and said, "Do you not have nannies?"

"No," the voice responded. "A Bolo has no need for surrogate care. I am a self-contained fighting unit."

"Fighting'?" Alik repeated. The nannies provided an image he could understand—"Like playing hide and seek?"

 

Voice analysis indicates that deceptive speech is less than a 0.1% probability with the children. The lieutenant has not spoken sufficiently to gain an accurate estimate of her veracity, however she must be in great pain owing to the severe rupturing of her lower limbs—

Infrared scans show that initial damage to the cardio-vascular system has been stemmed. Bleeding is only partly venal and not at all arterial Some bone fragments appear to have fused together—my estimate of the medical technology available must be updated accordingly. Given this new datum, I cannot understand why the lieutenant is not cooperating. Is this some test?

Over ten thousand years have passed, perhaps she does not grasp my abilities.

 

"Lieutenant, I believe you may be underestimating my abilities," the Bolo said.

"I do not know what your abilities are, Bolo."

"I feared that to be the case," the Bolo replied. "Permit me to enumerate them."

"Why don't you just get your things off her?" Swotti demanded.

"Swotti," Leander scolded, "that's not nice!"

"And probably not wise at this moment, is it, lieutenant?" the Bolo added.

"I suspect so," Erena agreed. The nannies gave her mixed evaluations of what would happen if the crushing weight was removed from her body. The worst case scenario was obvious to her, and alternatives seemed limited. "Please continue."

"I am a Mark XXIX Model C Bolo, constructed on Earth—"

"This is Earth!" Alik exclaimed.

"Is that so, lieutenant?"

"We believe this to be the planet of origin—yes," Erena said.

"And who is attacking it?"

Erena shook her head. "I do not know that word—'attacking'—the nannies say that it must have the root verb, 'attack.' Could you explain? What is 'to attack? Is it connected with the bombings?"

"Bombings? I have evidence of only one nuclear event."

"Oh," Erena laughed bitterly, "they were much more than nuclear! The whole sky rained with them, that's how they got Timmin—" my son. He, her husband Landrin, and all the others had died under the rain of explosions. "It got so every square meter was saturated with detonations—fortunately we had found the cave. We found it very early—we didn't realize you had found it."

"I did not find it, it was constructed for me," the Bolo replied.

Erena was puzzled. "I don't understand—aren't you hiding in that metal thing somewhere?"

"I am the 'metal thing' lieutenant."

Erena took that revelation in stunned silence. Her face drained as she traced the size of the Bolo. She did not hear Alik's muttered, "I told you—it's a giant nano-machine."

 

Nano-machine. Nano-technology. Scanners tracking . . . millimeter wave radar, naming. Sub-millimeter wave, nothing. Diffraction beam radar . . . traces. Infrared analysis . . . traces. No positive identification of nano-machines is possible with existing scanning equipment.

Secondary affects analysis . . . hypothesis is consistent with medical treatment of Lieutenant Calgary . . . cavern lighting is not provided by standard thermo-luminescent technology . . . probability greater than fifty-one per cent that hypothesis is valid.

Countermeasures. None. Course of action? None readily available. Additional data needed. Hyper-heuristic analysis circuits engaged.

 

"It's too big!" Swotti whispered. "Erena, how do we control it?"

"I obey the orders of my Commander," the Bolo announced. "In the event that my Commander is not available, I have been programmed to respond to certain activities. The violation of standard treaties is one activity. The detonation of a nuclear device is in violation of treaty. My orders are clear—I must destroy all perpetrators of nuclear detonations. Once again, lieutenant, I must ask you to tell me how and whether you are connected with that event."

"Nuclear detonations"—the phrasing was clear, horribly apparent to Erena. "Bolo, are you saying that the increase in background radiation was committed purposefully by a sentient being?"

"Not clear," the Bolo responded. "It is, however, obvious that a sentient being ordered the nuclear detonation which resulted in the radiation you refer to."

"But why? Surely it was a mistake, some program gone wrong, some misaligned mechanism—"

"You are not a soldier, are you, lieutenant? Your rank does not refer to a military order, does it?"

Erena shook her head slowly, brows furrowed. "The nannies have only limited data on those words. I am one of a group designated to Survey this world for cultural artifacts and settlement—of course, as we brought our own children along because we wanted them to see the planet in its original pristine state."

She continued, "Our nannies were ordered to restore the artifacts on the planet to their state ten thousand years ago—there were incredibly high levels of pollutants recorded when we arrived. They were working all over the planet before the bombings started—"

"The bombings?"

"Yes, I thought you knew. The entire surface of the planet—wherever our nannies were at work—"

"Are the aliens trying to stop your work?"

Erena shook her head. "I can't see how. Why would it bother them what we do with this run down planet? It is of immense archaeological interest to us—"

"You are a Survey officer?" the Bolo interrupted. "Not a combat officer? Were there any combat officers in your party?"

"Some of our physical well-being exercises are called 'close combat'—is that what you mean?"

 

Data: nano-technology. Extrapolating . . . Direct neural connections. Extrapolating . . . Thought-controlled nano-technology. Extrapolating . . . extreme mental control required. Extrapolating . . . violence/conflict unacceptable, consensus/harmony required. Extrapolating . . . peaceful society.

Hypothesis—non-combatant society. Probability—99.84%. Course of action—engage and destroy enemy. Protect innocent lives.

There is a conflict.

 

"Lieutenant," the Bob began, "where are the others?"

"The rest of the children have run back up the corridors," Leander replied for her. "I think you frightened them."

"They show sense, I am an implement of destruction," the Bolo replied. "Who are you and why are you still here?"

"I'm Leander Canter and I'm twelve, I'm too big to be scared of a lump of metal."

"I'm Alik Cointreau," Alik offered unasked. He jerked a finger towards Swotti. "She's Swotti Carberon."

"Thank you, children," the Bolo said. "Lieutenant, where is the rest of your party?"

"Gone. We're all that's left of one hundred and fifty-seven," Erena replied. She shook her head pityingly, "Whoever did that is going to be terribly unhappy when they find out."

"Erena, do you understand?" the Bolo continued, "The enemy has detonated a large nuclear device after a prolonged conventional bombardment that has annihilated most of your Survey party. Those are not the acts of a benevolent sentience nor of a mis-programmed machine. Those acts are the purposeful acts of violence intent upon murder. Those are the acts of war."

"Enemy?"

"One that shows hostility towards others," the Bolo explained, "One that makes war."

"War," Erena repeated. Timmin, Landrin, all the others. The twelve dead children in the corridor above. The baby in her womb. "We caused no war."

"It does not require action on your part," the Bolo replied.

Erena nodded wearily. "Make it stop."

"I believe I can stop it," the Bolo said by way of agreement. "I do not believe the enemy would expect to find a functional Bolo."

That didn't make sense to Erena. She fumbled for the reason, couldn't find the right word so she used another one, "Bombs?"

"If you mean, are my weapons functional, no," the Bolo said. "Without my weapons I cannot make it stop."

"So it's no use then."

"Without help, no," the Bolo agreed. "I need your help."

"How?"

"Your nannies can fix my weapons."

Erena thought it over—it was possible. "You have some memory of what your weapons should be like?"

"Yes."

"Can you interface with the nannies?"

"No."

"The nannies are dying, you know that?" Erena said.

"I calculate that they will not last another twenty-three hours."

Alik gasped in disbelief but his defiant response died on his lips as the nannies produced concurring estimates and the reason why. 'What's radioactivity?"

"For your nannies, the harmful elements of radioactivity are the high energy beta particles which interfere with their successful replication. As they are so small, even minor interference is sufficient to render them non-functional and incapable of replication. Non-functional mutations are also caused by the radiation," the Bolo explained. "The effects are irreversible and cumulative."

"They can do one last complex major function before they become ineffective."

The children looked around apprehensively, already the light from the nannies in the cavern seemed dimmer.

Swotti huddled closer to Erena.

"They could make food," Alik suggested.

"How much food do you need? How many years will you be here, with no light?" the Bolo responded. "And what about the lieutenant?"

"If you moved off of her, they could fix Erena!" Swotti exclaimed.

"Yes, that's so."

Erena shook her head. "No, that's not so, neither the nannies nor I know enough about these sorts of injuries."

"I know about such injuries," the Bolo said.

"How would you teach the nannies?"

"Have them enter my storage areas, read the magnetic currents of my memory and build the data directly from mine," the Bolo replied.

Erena nodded, "That could work. It would require intense concentration, I don't think the children would be capable—"

"Or you yourself in your current condition," the Bolo added. "However, if the children sustained you in a certain fugue state, you could attain the pain-free concentration required. You could also, instead of reading my medical memory, read the data I have on my weaponry and instruct the nano-machines to affect repairs."

Leander gasped. "You said the nannies can only do one major function! What about Erena? How are they going to fix her then?"

"Lieutenant Calgary must decide," the Bolo replied.

"Don't do it, Erena," Swotti cried.

Erena looked up at the hulking metal macro-machine. "What about the children? What will happen to them?'

"I can give you my word that I shall do everything within my power to ensure their safety," the Bolo replied. "That is my prime mission."

Erena pursed her lips, gazed thoughtfully at the machine. Finally, she said, "I can see no other way."

"Nor I."

Leander knelt down by Erena, grabbed her hand. "Erena, don't do this!"

"The nannies won't last—without them, there's nothing I can do to protect the children," Erena replied, her words carefully chosen.

"We'll find a way!"

"In the dark? Without heat? Our food won't grow. We won't be able to see. What if there's another nuclear detonation?"

Leander bit her lip, lowered her head. Erena tightened her grip on Leander's hand, pulling the girl closer. "You must look after them, Leander."

The youngster pulled out of her grasp, sprang away, tears streaming, "I can't!"

"I will," Swotti said, glancing sympathetically towards Leander. "I can do it, Erena."

Erena glanced from Leander to the younger girl beside her. Swotti looked more resolute, more sure of herself than Erena had ever recalled. Erena looked into her eyes and recognized the girl's determination. Erena smiled at the girl, "Leander will help you."

"Time is growing short," the Bolo said. "Your nano-machines will shortly be too incapacitated to perform either function."

Erena nodded in agreement. "Leander, Alik, come here," she called. To the Bolo she said, "What must they do?"

"They must relieve you of all feeling of your body. They must tell the nannies that you don't need your body anymore. That you do not need to breathe anymore, that your blood no longer needs to flow, that your heart may stop, that you no longer need the senses of your eyes, your nose or your ears."

Erena took a long, shaky breath. "I see. What must I do?"

"You must direct the nannies to search for my electronic memory, to access the details on Bolo construction, to use that information to reconstruct my Hellbores, to fix the filaments of my infinite repeaters, to deoxidize the propellants of my missiles, to remove the embrittlement in my metal, to make me new again."

Leander's eyes gleamed with fire. "Stop her breath! Stop her heart! You want us to kill her for you! So that you can kill the others!"

"I did not wish for this choice," the Bolo said. "Your nannies cannot both help her and restore me. And unless I am restored those others will kill you and all the other children."

"I won't do it!" Leander swore. Tears streaming, she turned to Erena and cried, "I won't help the Bolo kill you!" A sob racked her body. "Not even for me!"

"If that is your choice, then do so," Erena replied soothingly. "But it is my choice to help the Bolo so that the children can survive. I am not sure that without your help, I can do that. And I do want you all to survive."

Leander turned away from her.

Erena frowned and sighed. "Swotti, Alik, will you help me?'

"Do you really want to do this, Erena?" Alik asked.

"I see no better choice."

"Then I'll do my best," the boy said. He walked closer to her, knelt behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck. "I'll do what you want."

"I'm not very good with the nannies, Erena," Swotti admitted. "But I'll help if you want it."

"Yes."

"Lieutenant, we have no more time!" the Bolo said.

Erena nodded. "We are ready. Will you energize the proper memory locations? They will be easier to trace that way. Be sure to energize only those required—the nannies are quite literal."

"I shall try not to think of elephants," the Bolo replied dryly.

Erena looked at the two children, "When I close my eyes, begin."

Lieutenant Erena Calgary took a deep breath, and another, let it out and closed her eyes. The pain the nannies had only dulled faded from her thoughts. The feeling of Alik's arms around her neck, of his back against hers, of the hands held in her grasp, dimmed, faded, stopped. She concentrated on the Bolo, willing the nannies to search for its memories.

 

A faerie glow surrounded her view of the Bolo as the nannies relayed it not with light but with the image of electronics. She saw the bright heart of the machine, and moved towards it. She magnified the image, moved closer, found the separate parts, identified them.

Survivor Center. Battle Center. Main Memory—she slipped into it—Historical Memory, Military Logic Memory, Maintenance Memory. She slid into the Maintenance Memory, found the bright memories of the Bolo in all its terrible glory, drew the information into the nannies.

There, she ordered them, like that.

The nannies, keen with myriad images of the Bolo at its prime, scurried to their duty. Some scampered with mismatched treads; others crawled with defective drives. Their reports were obvious—they were dying.

Well, so was she. She took a moment to examine the Bolo's Survival Center, to fathom the thoughts of the machine. She drew back in horror at its rapacity. Recoiling, she slid into the History Memory—and through thousands of years of forgotten history. That people would fight over such things! Would kill or try to kill whole races. Such hatred. Such senselessness. Erena let out a silent scream. Perhaps her attackers were human?

A new awareness corrected her. She felt the growing presence of a profound strength. She brushed against the thoughts of the Bolo. Its analyses were only half-complete but it was certain that the enemy was not human. And equally certain that the enemy held no remorse for humanity.

She felt the Bolo become aware of her, felt it stretch out to touch her thoughts as she had touched its. The touch was—gentle, loving . . . like a mother for a child.

Do no revel in war! she begged.

We were created to stop it, not revel in it, the Bolo told her. It added ironically, Perhaps we succeeded too well.

A flash of inspiration touched Erena. She offered the thought to the Bolo. It responded shyly, I would never request such a pleasure.

But you must get lonely, Erena thought. And you will understand us so much more.

The Bolo agreed. Erena found a fertile patch of memory and carefully filled it. Towards the end she grew distracted, unable to focus. It was time.

One last set of thoughts. Timmin. The explosions. The unborn child.

I had no idea! the Bolo exclaimed. Lieutenant, I am truly sorry!

Take care of my children, Bolo.

I shall, Lieutenant, the Bolo swore solemnly.

 

Alik gasped when Erena's head lolled back onto his chest. "Erena!"

The Bolo answered, "She is gone. More than any other officer, I shall mourn her passing."

"You killed her!" Leander swore, pointing a stiff arm in outrage.

"She chose to give her life to save your lives," the Bolo replied. "I shall honor that choice. Please do the same, Leander."

Leander's arm fell—the Bolo's tone was different, familiar.

"Please move back, children," the Bolo said. "I must move quickly to combat this menace."

The children moved back. As they did, they were caught in the running lights of the Bolo. A steady hum could be heard from the regenerated tracking radar. Sensors tracked them, infinite repeaters swiveled to keep them under cover. As never before, they felt themselves in the presence of an awesome power.

"All sub-systems are functioning at one hundred per cent," the Bolo said to itself. "Ultra broadband detects three orbiting vessels in the battleship/sun-shatterer class. Electromagnetic monitoring initiated. Sentient data acquired. Encoded battle channels identified. Decoding. Decoded—algorithms operating at one hundred per cent." This last comment was made in a satisfied tone.

"Intercommunications channels identified. Decoded. Ships plans acquired. Tactical readouts acquired." The Bolo was silent for a moment. "Children, they call themselves the Hryxi. Remember that, they killed your parents."

"And the bombs?" Leander asked. "Did they drop the bombs? Did they kill Timmin?"

"Affirmative. The carpet bombardment was a robot force directed from orbit, the nuclear detonation was a missile launched inwards from space," the Bolo replied. It added with some amusement, "Your nannies confused them as much as they did me—they instituted a continuous bombardment in an attempt to eradicate the ecosystem the nano-machines continuously reconstructed."

"Leander, why would they want to kill us?" Alik asked the girl in a small voice.

"I don't know," the girl replied, "Erena thought it was a mistake."

"Home star identified," the Bolo continued to itself, "system parameters identified. Biology readouts acquired. Analyzing. Analysis completed. Analyzing historical records."

The tone of the Bolo shifted as it continued, "Analysis complete. Hypothesis confirmed—the Hryxi attack was deliberate."

"It wasn't a mistake?" Leander asked.

"Definitely," the Bolo replied. "The Hryxi monitored all transmissions. Their assault fleet has identified all known human worlds—" the Bolo paused as it acquired new data "—this was the last planet on their assault list."

The Bolo was silent for a long while. Its tracking weapons stopped moving, swiveled to point upwards.

The contact lights dimmed. When it spoke again, it used an obsequious tone. "Awaiting orders."

"You'll do what we tell you?" Leander asked.

"Negative," the Bolo responded. "Within the rules of war I shall carry out the orders of my Commander."

"Who's that?" Leander asked.

"You."

"Me?"

"Within the range of my sensors and according to the enemy's reconnaissance, you are the eldest human within one million light-years of this location," the Bolo said. "I do not doubt that some humans have escaped or survived—perhaps whole planets—but within my range, you are the eldest and therefore my Commander."

The young girl, the oldest of mankind, bowed her head in silence. Alik and Swotti stared at her.

Finally, Leander said, "Kill them."

"Orders understood," the Bolo replied. "Permission to make a request?"

"What?"

"I should like to honor the dead," the Bolo replied.

Leander thought about it. Why would a war machine want to honor the dead?

Leander forced herself to look at Erena's lifeless body—sightless eyes staring blindly, jaw slack, head tilted backward, legs crushed—a bitter parody of the person who had been. Leander remembered Erena comforting her after they had gone for Timmin, remembered how she had cared for them all, how she had made and stuck to her choice.

Honor. Leander thought she understood. "Very well, you may do so."

"Thank you," the Bolo replied. Its lights dimmed to red. Swotti and Alik pulled away from it, sought the comfort of Leander's touch. They clutched at her as the eerie sound of music flowed from the Bolo.

Bolo Victorious played the song of evening, of Retreat, of day's end. The song was an ancient one, sonorous and compelling. That was the best way the Bolo could think to honor Erena and the great legacy of human memories she had gifted it.

As it played, Bolo Victorious moved slowly over her body—to war—and revenge for her and Earth.

For an old friend named Lady, may the sun above you always be warm and comforting until we meet again.

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Framed