John Ringo - Von Neumann’s War

So, Helena had pitched in and helped make the underground environment more habitable. She had done almost all of the painting and decorating. In fact, Richard had seen no need for flooring or wall surfaces other than the rock and dirt the mine provided. Helena had “convinced” him to add the flooring. Richard had grown particularly fond of Helena’s methods for convincing him to do things; there was always nudity involved — lots of it.

As it turned out, Richard was quite pleased with the flooring. He laid it down in a way that allowed him to run plumbing, electrical outlets, and Ethernet underneath safely and out of the way of foot traffic. This also gave him the ability to do repairs and upgrades underneath the false flooring as needed.

Richard was surfing through the software manual for the radio frequency spectrum analyzer control system. The damned thing was the only piece of equipment that he seemed to be having trouble bringing online. The ultraviolet/visible/infrared system he had bought gave him no trouble setting up. The mass spectrometer had given him no problems. The electron microscope had given him no problems except that he nearly pulled a muscle in his lower back trying to move it. He had had to upgrade to a larger pull cart and finally broke down and got the electric four-wheeled vehicle. Once he had that, his construction and moving went much faster. Helena had been telling him that for months, but he wouldn’t listen. It was actually she who had convinced him to buy the thing — she had grown tired of the long walk.

Richard continued plowing through the software control manual for the RF spectrum analyzer and tapping in instructions. There was little success. He looked at the output on the computer screen and there was nothing but a line of white noise across the entire RF spectrum. He knew that was bogus because he had several multigigahertz microprocessors operating in the laboratory room of the mine at that moment… but nothing.

“All right, Dr. Horton, what are we forgetting?” he said to himself. He set the manual down and restarted the device — still no luck. Then he noticed the little omnidirectional antenna still in the clear plastic bag sitting on top of the monitor for the analyzer.

“No way, I’m that stupid…” He crawled under the folding table and noticed two coaxial cables lying on the floor. One was about six feet long and coiled up and not connected at either end. The other was the end of the cable that came from the other antenna hidden in the rocks outside on top of the mountain. Neither were connected so there was no antenna connected to the system. He slapped his forehead. “I guess I am.”

Richard plugged the short cable into the back of the analyzer and the other to a two-port switch. He ran the test antenna into one port and the above-ground antenna into the other.

“That should do it.” He pressed the reset button on the menu screen and presto ! The computer processors in the room appeared on the screen as spikes around 2.4, 4.3, and 5.1 gigahertz. “Good, now let’s take a look up top, shall we?” He flipped the two-port switch to the B port that was connected to the antenna above ground. The screen filled with radio noise and several peaks across the spectrum.

As he watched the radio noise spectral content, nine peaks that were just above the noise floor began to rise in amplitude. The peaks rose to only about ten percent above the noise floor and they also shifted in frequency from left to right in what appeared to be random order, all of them dancing around about 1.4 gigahertz or so.

“Hunh? What the hell is that?” he muttered and adjusted the gain on the receiver. The peaks rose from the noise floor slightly. “Spread spectrum? Hmm… centered around 1.4 gigahertz… I wonder if that means anything… hmmm.” Richard rubbed his unruly and slightly graying beard thoughtfully. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when his instant messenger alarm dinged at him.

RussianChick6300: Come to cabin now!

Megiddo: Why?

RussianChick6300: Alien robots here!

Megiddo: B right there!

RussianChick6300: Hury they r everyw

They must have cut the Internet connection to the cabin. Richard jumped into action and tripped over himself trying to get out of the computer desk chair he was sitting in. He nearly knocked himself out on the floor, but fortunately he was only dazed by the thwack his forehead made when it hit the decking. Rubbing between his eyes at the red mark forming there, he ran to the shaft main room and out the door to the four-wheeler. He started it up and motored up the shaft.

The briefings that he had read on the Internet and the few eyewitness accounts that had made it out of Europe came to mind, so he stopped the vehicle a good hundred meters or more inside the shaft and ran the rest of the way. Fortunately, he was in good shape from all those trips up and down the mine. He reached the mine’s entrance and eased out into the pathway that led uphill to the cabin. There was no sign of alien robots that he could see, so he darted across the small clearing at the entrance where the logging road ran into the mine. He stayed near the edge of the road hoping that the trees would help cover him — but he didn’t count on it.

One thing he couldn’t understand was, why now? Richard had been preparing for the bots and all the intel and briefings that had been released to the public had suggested that they were not any farther than Greenland and that they would not be to the States for some time. Worse than that was the fact that the bots typically attacked the big cities first. So why in the hell were they here in the northwestern mountains of South Carolina in the middle of nowhere? This was too soon. He hadn’t had time to bot-proof the cabin.

About a hundred feet down the logging road he turned uphill on a footpath that they had worn as a shortcut up to the cabin. The path led him through the rocks and the oak trees that were typical of northwestern South Carolina woods along the Appalachian trail and wound its way to the rear of the small dovetail construction log cabin. As Richard turned the corner to the side of the cabin where the driveway ended there sat Helena. In front of her were pieces of four tires that looked like the steel belts had been ripped right out of the rubber — and the wheels were nowhere to be seen — and what appeared to be pieces of automobile carpet and upholstery, pieces of plastic, vinyl and rubber. The mess looked like a monster had eaten their pickup truck and vomited out anything that wasn’t metal. There was nothing left of the Ford F-250. Ford tough was apparently not tough enough to withstand alien robots.

“Are you… harmed?” Richard touched Helena on the shoulder.

“Harmed, uh, nyet . Pissed to hell, da !” She was sitting down on the edge of the driveway fiddling with her jeans. The zipper and snaps had been torn away and the pants were basically ripped open at the crotch.

“Where are they?”

“Gone. Gone as quick as dey came. Goddamn tings took every pot and pan in de goddamn cabin. Even de sonovabitch bedsprings are gone. Look, my best goddamned jeans are ruined. Dey ate de televeesion, de forks and spoons, de couch springs, and even de goddamn truck. Dey ripped it to fuckin’ bits.” Helena sat shaking her head. “Tought you said no goddamn worries for long time?”

“Yeah, I don’t understand that part. It doesn’t make sense to me. What did they look like?” Richard could tell Helena was shaken up. Not from her colorful use of the English language — that was her nature and Richard had long since gotten used to that — but the drained look on her face. She was pale and looked like she had spent every bit of energy in her body the way a marathoner looks at the end of the race. Or the way a soldier looks after a battle — afraid, exhausted, and just glad to still be alive.