I stood, stunned, as Nanocloud’s messages flooded my display.
Avi Goldman was gone.
The Tower was an active battle site.
The staff officers handling command and control were fighting for their lives, and local commanders would have to handle things on their own….
And they’d almost reached Anne.
“What’s the situation now?” asked Doyle.
“They’re coming here. To Twickenham.”
“I see. Any particular reason?”
Doyle looked pleased when I told him. “Major-General Elias Carpenter knows what he’s doing.”
“He knows they can flip tanks, right?”
“He’s been in one that was flipped, so yeah. Call the other ultras.”
We hunkered down as Doyle sketched a circle in the dirt. “Here’s the Carnotaur,” he pointed to a dot in the centre. “Unity, you and Belessar will engage the Carnotaur at close range. Dodging is critical, don’t try to stand and fight; better Herculeans than you have died that way. Shamrock and Squad B will act as security for Chequers, help him get close; Chequers, once you’re within range, you hit the Carnotaur with the disrupter. At which point, everybody opens fire; put the full weight of metal into it and don’t stop.”
“We know how to fight, soldier man,” drawled Unity.
“And that’s why we’ll follow Doyle’s plan,” I said. “Fighting isn’t the point, saving the people is. To do that we need to kill the Carnotaur, and to do it fast enough we need the firepower of the tanks.”
“We’re superhuman. We don’t need tanks to break aliens.”
“Do you know there are aliens that can remove your powers?”
Unity looked shocked. “That wasn’t in the documentary.”
“Nobody knew. One of those got close to us, killed Bulldog, removed Animus’ power and almost got Derry. You know what helps when one of those shows up?”
The three new ultras shook their heads.
“Having a dozen buddies shoot at it and distract it.”
“You’re saying the troops are a distraction?”
I shook my head. “There are more than a hundred thousand aliens in London now. And maybe four hundred ultras. There are a million soldiers. Yes, I know ultras have the killing power. But you know why you’re not being swarmed by aliens right now?
“That’s because this very moment, there are thousands of soldiers tying up the aliens, holding them at bay, buying time with their lives. Time we need to get our act together and figure out how to kill one batch of aliens, then move to the next, and the next, and the next.
“So let’s cooperate with the troops, please.”
“That doesn’t explain why we need tanks,” Unity scowled mulishly.
“I need the tanks, guys. And the missiles. And their high explosive shells. Inventors can’t make everything themselves, you know.”
Chequers nodded. “We understand. Razorback buys most of his components off-the-shelf.”
“Once we’ve collapsed the shield, the tanks will keep firing at the Carnotaur.”
“What happens if they hit me by mistake?” asked Unity. “It’s way too risky.”
“They won’t,” Doyle explained. “Tank commanders aiming for a Carnotaur target a point at least twenty feet off the ground.”
“What if I jump?”
“It’ll take you at least half a second to reach a height of twenty feet,” I replied. “A kinetic penetrator travels at sixteen hundred metres per second, so you’d have to move very fast indeed to get between a shell and its target.”
Unity scowled at me. “You know way too much about this stuff.”
“I got an A in physics.”
“You’re still in school?” exclaimed Chequers.
Dammit. “I graduated a while ago. I’m just saying, I did get an A, so trust me on muzzle velocities, jump mechanics, and Carnotaurs.”
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“Why can’t I just pound it to death?”
“Your punches would do about 500 damage, the Carnotaur has a million hit points. You’d take at least thirty-four minutes to beat it to death, and the shield will be back up after four.”
“... wait, you can calculate how much damage gets done to a Carnotaur? And what’s this about hit points?”
I sighed. “Look - one aspect of my power is that it tells me exactly how much damage it takes to kill a particular alien. A Sarnak is 600, a Raptor Guard is 300, and a Grizzeloid is 1100. A Carnotaur is a million. Each weapon does a certain amount of damage, and your punches do about five hundred points, enough to kill a man outright - most humans can take about 100 points of damage - but a Carnotaur is on a whole different level.”
“Well, what’s so special about the tanks and the missiles?”
“A tank shell does 150,000 damage, and these missiles do 350,000.” I paused. “That’s mostly due to the high explosives, but the point remains.”
The three ultras exchanged glances. Finally, Shamrock spoke up. “If that’s part of your power, I believe you.”
Chequers nodded in agreement. “That’s definitely a type of Battlecognition, you know. Unless you have tech to make it work?”
“It works even without the tech. It’s a long story and time is short, so will you follow our plan?”
“We can do that.”
I became aware of the whirling of chopper blades.
The Sikorsky Kestrel helicopter set down in the centre of the road, just short of our mixed company, and I got to see Anne for the first time in hours.
Her armor was scuffed and dusty, but okay. Nothing to worry about.
Pemberley snapped off a salute to Doyle. “We’re ready to run communications from here. Sir.”
“Colonel, thank you. Will you be able to act as my second?”
Pemberley swallowed. “Respectfully, sir, I’m a staff officer with the Air Force.”
“And I was a lieutenant this morning. We need to stretch a bit.”
A haunted look passed over Pemberley’s face. “Will do. Major-General.”
“We need to sort out the units we’ve got here. They’re mixed up - four different armies, plus ultras, and no clear lines of communication with artillery - which would help against the Carnotaur, if we can get it.”
“I’ll do that. Four armies?”
“Brits, U.S., Indians and Bangladeshis. Australians and an American armored division are inbound, plus we get to link up with the Germans a little ahead. Units have been moving around wherever possible to contain perceived threats, and our lines are completely mixed up right now.”
“I know where most of the units are, and the reasons they’re there. I’ll get it sorted.”
I turned to Tucker. “Are we really that badly mixed up?”
“You didn’t notice?”
“All I see is a slightly mixed up group of soldiers following us around. Alpha Platoon and Phoenix Company are still at the front.”
“The vanguard, which is what we are, is fine. It’s the units at the back that are a bit of a mess. There’s five thousand troops behind us, including eleven tanks, thirty jeeps, fourteen trucks, two ambulances, a fire engine, and four colonels, each from a different army and trying to figure out who’s in charge. Doyle’s been keeping them under control.”
“I thought things were running smoothly.”
“Only the guys who can cooperate and work together are being allowed to come up front. The rear of our column is a mess, and the Lieutenant - I mean, the General - is running ragged trying to be a small-unit commander and a general officer at the same time. You haven’t noticed Banner’s giving the orders most of the time?”
“... Not really.”
“We’ll sort it out. Anyway, once the Old Ironsides show up, General Howe will be able to take command.”
“The Old Ironsides?”
“The nickname for the First Armored. Frankly I’m looking forward to having three hundred and fifty tanks between us and the Carnotaur.”
“How will they fit that many into the streets?”
“Don’t know, that’s for the brass to figure out.”
Armies were complicated, I reflected. Fortunately, ultras were simple.
One in particular who I needed to talk to. “Nanocloud? Are you okay?”
My sister nodded, the effect more pronounced in the armor. “They didn’t get me. Belessar - Goldman’s gone. The Tower’s overrun.”
“I know.”
----------------------------------------
Tanks rumbled down the road, their armored fronts conveying an aura of invincibility.
I knew better, of course. The M5 Schwarzkopf tank might be the best armored vehicle humanity could produce - or rather, mass-produce - but a single Raptor Heavy Sniper could blow one up. I’d pulled Banner from such a tank, less than a year ago.
And to a Carnotaur, even the heaviest tank was an easily flipped toy.
Still, there was something to be said for having a lot of large, powerful guns pointed at your enemies. If we could get them in the right position, and shoot fast enough, the Carnotaur would be toast.
If.
The figure that climbed down from the first tank, however, turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
Elephant gun in hand, General Edgar Curry strolled up to us, a wide smile on his face. “Heard you boys are about to go head-to-head with the Carnotaur.”
“Sir,” Doyle’s tone was reverent, “it’s good to have you here.”
“Carry on, Major-General, I’m mainly here to observe. You’ve done a good job getting this gang all pointed in one direction. Do we have communications?”
“We have Nanocloud, sir.”
“Ah, yes. Well done, young lady; I’ve known seasoned communications commanders who couldn’t have held things together as well as you have.”
“Thank you, sir,” Anne sounded embarrassed. “I just did what I could…”
“You did brilliantly. I need you to keep it up for a bit, can you do that?”
“Sure, General. It’s just… let me kill something too, please?”
“... Young lady, I like that attitude. We are about to enter a target-rich environment, so feel free!”
I shook my head as Curry strode off, somehow turning a chaotic mess of soldiers, tanks, and other equipment into a strange sort of order. “Nanocloud, did you just ask a general for permission to kill aliens?”
“... I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I want to do my bit….”
“Like the General said,” Doyle cracked a smile, “we are entering a target-rich environment. Knock yourself out. Do you need a gun?”
In response, thin clouds of nano-spikes coalesced. “I have these. I’ll find the aliens and stab them.”
“Sounds like a workable strategy. Do you have eyes on the Carnotaur?”
“It’s breaking through buildings now on Lisbon Avenue, headed for Crane Park.”
A wolfish grin spread across Doyle’s face. “Perfect. Once it gets on to the park, we hit it.”