John Ringo - Von Neumann’s War

They drove back to a larger hangar building on the south side east of the airport. After they parked the vehicles, Alan and John led them inside to a row of motorcycles, buggies, and all-terrain-vehicles of various sizes and shapes.

“They’re composite. Down to the lug nuts.” Alan waved his arms at the vehicles.

“And they’re yours,” John added.

“That’s right. Equip them however you see fit. This is the motorpool for these vehicles. If you want to do something to them, the mechanics here are the ones to help you out. I will say this: be careful about drilling holes and how you mount things without asking first. Composite structures are funny and one hole in the wrong place and the entire vehicle might collapse. We did put hardpoints throughout them though, because we figured you’d want to mount stuff to them.”

“Uh, Alan,” Cady interrupted.

“Yeah, Thomas.”

“These ceramic motors. What do they run on?”

“Ditto,” Gries said.

“Oh, they run on regular gasoline, or kerosene, or alcohol, or just about anything that will combust good. They don’t need oil either since the ceramics are already godawful slick.”

“Sounds too good to be true.” Gries seemed concerned.

“Oh, not at all,” Dr. Fisher interjected. “There have been functioning ceramic engines for at least a decade and most of them can run on almost any combustible. You see, ceramics don’t need the cooling that metal engines do so they can run a lot hotter.”

“Uh huh.” Gries and Cady nodded.

Surprise is in the mind of the combat commander , Gries thought to himself. He had to remind himself that it didn’t matter why these tools worked. What mattered was how he was going to use them to win a war against alien machines that ate metal. They just might offer an advantage. What that advantage was he had no idea. But he would figure it out.

“As the colonel said, Sergeant Major, ‘Gather the clans’!”

“Yes sir!”

“Well, I think the DNA analogy is correct, Traci.” Alice stood at the end of the conference room in front of the big screen nodding at Traci Adams. The PowerPoint slide showed images from the bot nucleus analysis.

Around the conference table were Dr. Ronny Guerrero, Dr. Roger Reynolds, Traci Adams, Alan Davis, Dr. Tom Powell, Dr. John Fisher, and a speakerphone. On the other end of the speakerphone were colleagues at redoubts across the country. They were also receiving pseudo real-time Internet video of the conference as well. There were several other scientists and engineers and technicians across the country at military locations and shelters listening in on the conversation via the Internet.

“Alice,” Ronny said slowly, with his Cuban/American accent barely creeping through, “how does that help us?”

“Well, once I realized that the replication process of the probes is more like biological fission than anything else, the question of how they know how to replicate arose. Biological things have DNA for blueprints and this analogy led us down the path that the bots must have blueprints as well. Now what if, what if, mind you, we somehow figured out the bot DNA and mutated it?”

“Uh, Dr. Pike, this is Dr. Forrester in the AFRL redoubt in Albuquerque…” interrupted the speakerphone.

“Go ahead, Dr. Forrester.” Alice said a little too loudly.

“I’ve reviewed the data and can’t figure heads or tails about how the so-called DNA might work. Do you have any ideas there?”

“Unfortunately, no, Dr. Forrester. But, for now, let us say that we figure it out. Then say we mutate the bots to eat themselves only and then release them back into the wild.”

“Brilliant!” Roger slammed his hands down on the table. “That’s it, Alice, THAT IS IT! Fight fire with fire, absolutely. We should focus all our efforts on doing just that! How do we figure out the bot DNA code?”

“Search me. Again, I say that Dr. Richard Horton was doing some things along the lines of machine DNA, and there is a chance he might have figured it out, but as for me I have no idea. I’m not giving up and I have some ideas, but I recall Dr. Horton really having a knack for this line of thinking.” There was silence for a moment.

“This is the Wheeler Labs redoubt at Princeton. We knew Horton as you did, Alice. We wouldn’t put much stock in what that crackpot has to say.”

“This is DEPUTY SECRETARY REYNOLDS. Does anybody else at Princeton have an idea of how the bot DNA works?”

“Uh, sure we do, I mean…”

“Let’s hear it now, then,” Roger practically yelled into the speakerphone. Ronny grinned at him. Alan sniggered out loud. Traci patted his leg underneath the table.

“Uh, we’d have to think about it a bit more and get back to—”

“People, I’m not going to say this again. Most of the world has been eaten by alien machines. Hell, most of the solar system has been eaten by alien machines. And I will not for one second allow academic bigotry and egotism stand in the way of any possible idea or asset no matter how odd or wild it might seem. Even if it’s a long shot billion to one chance of it working. What else do we have? Not a whole helluva lot that’s what. At this point I’d piss on a sparkplug if I thought it’d help. Understand me ?” Roger clenched his jaw, wishing he had that arrogant Ivy League prick on the other end of the speakerphone close enough to choke. His face was red and his head pounded and there was no telling what his blood pressure was.

There was no response from the other end of the line.

Ret Ball: My friends you will not believe this but I have the Deputy Secretary of Defense for Advanced Defense Concepts and Testing, Dr. Roger P. Reynolds online with us this evening. Great to have you here on the Truth Nationwide, Mr. Deputy Secretary.

Caller: Thanks, Ret.

Ret Ball: Why are you contacting us tonight, sir?

Caller: Well, you see Ret we have posted all the information we have on the alien menace on our website at www.neighborhoodwatch.gov. Again, that is www.neighborhoodwatch.gov. We would like all the smart folks across the globe that can still access it to look it over. If you have any insights please contact us immediately through the contact lists on the site.

Ret Ball: That doesn’t sound good, Mr. Deputy Secretary. If the United States Department of Defense is asking for help what does that mean?

Caller: Just the way it sounds, Ret. More than half, nearly two-thirds of the world, our planet, has been overtaken by these alien machines and we have lost contact with those occupied regions. We have rallied our troops, evacuated our cities, and gathered as many brilliant minds as we can find to help solve the problem and stop these alien machines. But we aren’t certain of our chances and will listen to any, and I mean any, advice.

Ret Ball: I see. Anything else?

Caller: Yes Ret, there is one more thing. We desperately need to speak with one of your regular callers. He uses the name Megiddo on your show. We have reason to believe that Mr. Megiddo is actually a quite brilliant scientist and would very much like to speak with him.

Ret Ball: You heard it fans. Megiddo, if you are out there, your country, no, humanity needs you…

Richard and Helena had spent the better part of the last two weeks moving everything they wanted to keep — and everything the Von Neumann probes hadn’t taken — into the mine. Richard patched the hole in the cabin where the stove had been but did not see the need to waste further time on fixing the interior. The cabin had been a convenience and a temporary location from the beginning, but Richard just could not see leaving a gaping hole in the side and roof for the weather to intrude through. It was still a decent shelter and had taken him months to find, fix up, and move into.