John Ringo - Von Neumann’s War

“Warning Flight! I have a Watchdog reset on telescope gimbals!”

“Flight, I’ve got three Watchdog resets on structure.”

“Here we go, Ronny. Let’s hope the antenna holds long enough for us to get a close up.” Roger crossed his fingers and stared closer at the three low resolution video streams. He pecked his computer and set it on ready to grab a video frame. Of course if he missed it they could replay the video after the fact.

“There, Roger.” Ronny pointed at screen two — the Earthward viewing one.

“Got it.” Roger tapped the touchpad.

The image stream stopped.

“Flight, we had multiple Watchdog resets then no telemetry at all.”

“Roger that, no telemetry. Continue the reconnect protocols, but I think we can assume the probe was destroyed,” John said with a sigh. “Well, at least we know what we’re up against.”

“The best we can tell is that it appears they’re made of metal. A composite material most likely wouldn’t be this shiny,” Ronny explained to the President over the phone.

“So, what does that mean?”

“Well, sir, we haven’t really had time to analyze the data completely, but we’re certain that they’re using in-situ materials from the lunar surface to replicate themselves. That means this thing is most likely made of titanium and aluminum.”

“Then that means they won’t be impervious to our weapons,” the President said.

“Possibly. It might be some sort of super-alloy. But more likely they’re simply making themselves from whatever’s available. They undoubtedly need some trace metals for their internals, although we have no idea what they are at this point. But, yes, Mr. President, they might be individually vulnerable. However, there are a bunch of them. Mr. President, the U.S. needs to go on a full war footing right now .”

Despite the official declaration of war all that had really happened was an increase in funding and the call-up of the National Guard and Reserves. To the greatest extent possible, it had been business as usual.

“We need a much larger Army, more redoubts, we need to throw anything we can at the problem and open it up fully so anyone can get in on the research.”

“That’s going to need some discussion, Ronny,” the President said. “Among other things, you’re not the person who should be advising on that.”

“Sorry, Mr. President,” Ronny said, gritting his teeth but biting back the reply.

“You need to be in the meeting, though,” the President said, sighing. “Get up here and bring Dr… What’s his name? The redneck?”

“Dr. Roger Reynolds,” Ronny replied. “He’s right here, sir.”

“Both of you get up here,” the President said. “I’ll schedule a full Cabinet meeting this evening with the heads of the Senate and the House.”

The meeting was in the cabinet room with every cabinet member present as well as the majority and minority leaders of the House and Senate. Everyone except Roger had brought an aide. He supposed he’d be counted as Ronny’s aide, or even his second aide, since Ronny had one sitting in a chair behind him, but he was planning on saying his piece.

“We’ve refined the data a bit since I spoke to the President,” Ronny said, concluding his fifteen minute presentation. “We now have a clearer understanding of the threat. They’re definitely Von Neumann machines and they’re definitely consuming the surface of the rocky bodies in the solar system one by one. There is no indication that they will ignore the Earth. At present, no model that we have shows survival of the human race, or at least civilization, in the face of this threat. We’re looking at end game for the ten-thousand year history of post-hunter-gatherer society, ladies and gentlemen.”

“It can’t be that bad,” the secretary for Health and Human Services said, shaking his head. “You can’t say that just because they ate the Moon and Mars that they’re coming here! And even if they do, we’ve called up National Guard and the Reserves. What more do you want?”

“We need to rationalize production,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said. “We need a national industrial board.”

“We’ve got one,” the chairman of the Office of Management and Budget snapped. “And they’re already screwing up the economy—”

“Economy be damned ,” Roger said, trying to bite back the comment as he made it.

“Dr. Reynolds,” the President said angrily. “If we don’t have an economy, we don’t have the money to pay for your pet projects—”

“Mr. President…” Ronny started to say placatingly.

“No, let me,” Roger said, looking the President in the eye. “Mr. President, there was a book a while back, written by some yuppy economist.”

“Yes?” the President said, raising an eyebrow. He very well could be called a “yuppy economist.”

“It was a pretty selfish book,” the scientist said, shrugging. “Basically, it was about how to plan to manage your money so there wasn’t any left over for your kids. ‘Die with your last dollar’ or something like that. But it’s important here, Mr. President.”

“Why?” the national security advisor asked.

“Every other time we had a national emergency, we had to keep one eye on what the future might hold,” Roger said, looking her in the eye. “If we lose this one, there is no future. No econony beyond glass beads,” he said, looking at the chairman of OMB. “ No agriculture,” he said, looking at the secretary of Agriculture. “Not beyond digging small gardens with sticks. No housing,” he continued, looking at the HHS secretary. “Not beyond caves and stick houses. And not much of that, looking at the Moon and Mars. A few humans scrabbling for survival in the metal monster of a city the machines will create, living hand to mouth, eating each other to survive. Mr. President, if the last dollar equivalent in the world is spent to kill the last machine, that will be a dollar well spent !”

“Mr. President?” the national security advisor said quietly.

“Yes?”

“We’re already looking at the inflation index skyrocketing,” she said. “Effectively, in a survival economy, which is what we’re approaching, you have to draw money out of the economy or it overheats as there’s more and more competition for survival materials. One way to do that is to crank taxes up and put them into non-useful or disposed costs; personnel and equipment that’s not going to last. You worry about how to recoup if you win, if the survival situation goes away. You don’t print more money, you take it out of circulation.”

“There’s that,” the chairman of OMB mused. “And, frankly, Mr. President, while rather hotly presented, what Dr. Reynolds said makes sense as well. The images from the Moon are more… graphic than those from Mars. As are the growth curves. If the same thing happens, unchecked, on Earth, well…”

“Agreed,” the President said with a sigh. “Senators, Congressmen? We’re going to have to pass bills for this. We’ll have to increase the taxes, begin a draft—”

“Mr. President?” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the secretary of defense both said simultaneously.

“Yes?” the President said, looking at the secretary with one hand up to the Chairman.

“I think we’re both going the same place, Mr. President,” the secretary said with a glance at the Chairman. “There’s simply not time, or materials, to make a draft worthwhile. Funneling the money to civil defense and, frankly, organized militias will be more worthwhile. Some increase in Defense, yes, but we’re still in the making the tools to make the guns stage. More money and facilities at the scientific redoubts. They’ll have to try to survive even if everything else falls.”