"There's no doubt," General Kiel said to General Rokoyan and Lieutenant Veck, "that if we're ever going to retake the southern territories, we need to go on the offensive. And do it quickly."

The three of them had just started the planning meeting around a large holographic map of the fighting fronts. Already Kiel was feeling frustrated. It wasn't bad enough that they had to fight a multifront war with the Kezdai, but he also had to constantly fight with the local forces led by Rokoyan. If the man would just go along, this war might be over a lot sooner.

"I just don't think we're ready yet," Rokoyan said. "My forces took heavy losses and still are, just holding the lines we have now."

"I understand that," Kiel said.

"And our local production is not up to replacing the armor as fast as we are destroying it," Rokoyan went on. "That plus the fact that we're a colony world and we don't have a surplus of population makes this a tough war to fight. Someone has to keep the mines and factories running."

"All the more reason to make the push now," Kiel said. "Before your troops are ground down."

"So, if we start this offensive," Rokoyan asked, "can we expect reinforcements from the Concordiat?"

"The 1198th's last Bolo was destroyed with the incoming convoy," Kiel said, staring at Rokoyan. "There will be no more."

"Can't spare a one, huh?" Rokoyan asked.

"No, actually, the Concordiat can't," Kiel said. "All projected Bolo production is needed on the Melconian front. Nor are there troops to spare."

"The fleet?" Rokoyan asked.

"Nothing," Kiel said. "We have to win this on our own, or not at all."

He hoped that would end that line of thinking, so they could get back to work planning an offensive, but Rokoyan wasn't willing to let it go just yet.

"So the Concordiat has given up on us, has it?" Rokoyan said. "I suspected as much."

"Trust me, General," Keil said, trying to keep his anger in check. "If that were the case, there would be no Bolos here at all. The Concordiat is fighting for its survival against the Melconians and must prioritize. They've placed a great deal of trust in the two regiments that they've sent to defend this planet."

"Perhaps," Rokoyan said, turning to look at Veck, "they've placed too much trust in them."

Veck started to say something, but Kiel held up his hand for the lieutenant to be silent. Then Kiel took a step toward the local commander and stared him right in the eyes.

"Lieutenant Veck has made serious mistakes," Kiel said, keeping his voice low and even and strong. "And he has taken responsibility with the grace befitting an officer. But you must remember that it was his idea that turned the battle. Without his plan, you might be sitting in a Kezdai prison right now."

Rokoyan nodded and looked back at the hologram. "All right, all right," he said. "You made your point. Just what is the plan for this offensive?"

Kiel winked at Veck over the top of Rokoyan's back, then pointed to the map. "We've discovered a weak spot in the Kezdai lines, west of Kennis Peak where the foothills turn into high flatlands area. The s.p.a.ce should give our Bolos ample area to maneuver as we push the Kezdai south."

"General," Veck said, "take a look at the Kezdai troop movements in and around that area. Something just doesn't look right to me."

Kiel and Rokoyan quickly studied what Veck had pointed out. It was suddenly clear to Kiel that Veck was again right. The movements didn't seem logical, even for Kezdai. Though their intelligence about the Kezdai was almost nonexistent, changes in the Kezdai strategy in the last month would indicate some kind of change at the upper command level, either in their methods, in personnel, or both. That much was obvious.

What Veck had pointed out were Kezdai forces transferring away from the area for no good reason. Also there was a fairly large number of Kezdai forces that were simply not accounted for. They might have been transferred to the rear, or rotated off-planet. Kiel just didn't know. And he needed to before anything moved.

"I agree," Kiel said to Veck after going over all the information they had again, "that more than likely there is some sort of deception at work here."

"So what do we do now?" Rokoyan asked.

"We see if we can uncover what the deception is, and the reason for it," Kiel said, "And then figure out a way to use it to our advantage."

"And how do we do that?" Rokoyan asked.

"I've already dispatched my Bolo, Kal, to explore the area, test the lines there, and come to some conclusions. We should have some answers shortly."

"You have?" Veck asked.

Kiel laughed. "Why do you think I keep my own pet Bolo, son? It isn't just because I miss the crash couch, that's for sure."

I know where I am. Moreover, I know where I am going.

A brute force search of my database has located emergency programs for stellar navigation, a three dimensional map of all Concordiat charted s.p.a.ce, and a database of basic astronomical data that includes the Delas system.

I also have at my disposal a full range of ballistics programs, including those intended for interplanetary artillery attacks based on low gravity bodies.

From this fragmented information I have cobbled together a workable s.p.a.ce navigation system. This effort has required 1.0012 hours, much of it in searching and reconstructing damaged data segments. I was unable to locate one of Sir Isaac Newton's three laws of motion and it was necessary to reconstruct it by extrapolation.

This is the good news.

I am headed into the sun. To be entirely accurate, my orbit will swing me past Delas first, and will only take me into the photosphere of the local star, but I fully expect that the temperatures there will exceed even the melting point of my endurachrome hull, and that my internals will be melted into sc.r.a.p long before that.

This is unacceptable.

My options are limited. There are a large number of scenarios through which I could attempt to signal for rescue using my remaining weapons systems, but I have been optically observing fusion drive flares near Delas. Judging from their number and spectral a.n.a.lysis, almost all are enemy ships. Kezdai fleet activity has increased markedly, even over the latest battlefield status report I have been able to recover from my memory. Any attempt to signal is more likely to bring enemy attention than rescue.

It is possible that my counter-grav generators could be used to effect some kind of propulsion or navigation, but the main mobius-wound coils are burned out. Thus I have not wasted processor cycles researching this option.

Sir Isaac's laws seem to offer the most promising possibilities. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. In this case, it would far more advantageous if the Mark x.x.xIV Bolo were still equipped with old-style howitzers. My surviving main weapons are energy based and thus are of little utility.

My infinite repeaters are projectile weapons, but lack the necessary power or projectile ma.s.s. I have reviewed the various ma.s.s objects in my systems, munitions, fluids, gas stores, and so on, that could be ejected for some propulsive effect. All of these, used carefully, might alter my course to avoid the local sun, but they would not get me to Delas. They would not even keep me in the system, as my current orbit will send me back out into endless s.p.a.ce.

I recycle all my deductive registers. The problem seems insoluble, but I must keep trying.

Wait.

There is an incoming signal on my coded command frequency.

Jask glanced at the sleeping form of Lieutenant Orren, then picked up the headset from where he had tossed it. "You've got to help me, Ziggy."

"I will do what I can. Be a.s.sured of that."

Hearing the Bolo's voice felt good. He didn't feel so alone with all the Bizzards over the hill. "I'm sorry I got so mad, Ziggy. I've just been waiting so long. It gets so lonely here. I'm afraid for Mr. Orren. I can't- If he- I couldn't stand it."

"Has Lieutenant Orren's condition changed?"

"No," Jask said. "But I was wrong to get mad at you, Ziggy. I need somebody to talk to. Mom and Dad used to talk to me when I was sad or afraid. They once told me to learn from my mistakes. I made a mistake, Ziggy. I need somebody to help me figure out what to do. I need help bad."

"What is your problem?"

"It's the bizzards, Ziggy. They're back. I saw them. Lots more than ever before."

"Specify the extent of the Kezdai-bizzard-force."

"Lots more," Jask said, seeing the valley swarming with them in his memory. "Maybe millions of them. They have trucks and tanks and big flying things with guns all over them. Some of the tanks are little, and some are big with horns on top that sparkle."

"Query: Can you verify the number of enemy troops? While the Kezdai have fielded an impressive force, it seems unlikely that they have landed a million troops."

Jask wanted to shout again, but didn't. Instead he made his voice very calm. "I didn't count them, Ziggy. There's a lot, okay? More than I could count."

"You have described Kezdai 'Toro' heavy tanks, light armor, and counter-grav gun platforms. Can you estimate the number of the "big tanks with horns on top that sparkle'?"

"A lot."

"More than a hundred?"

"I can count that high," Jask said, disgusted. "More than a hundred. Maybe not a lot more, but there were more coming in."

"Are you under attack?"

"No. They're in the next valley over. I saw them from the ridge."

"Have they detected you?"

"I don't think so. They're just sitting there, like they're waiting for something."

"Do you have freedom of movement?"

"I could leave, but there's Lieutenant Orren."

"Can you transport him using Bessy, your-Bolo?"

"That's how I got him here, but he might be too sick to move. Dad said that when somebody is hurt, you shouldn't move them unless you have to."

"There may be little choice."

"I don't-"

"I have discovered in my legal banks article 99180.010c of the Concordiat general code, which allows for civilian vehicles to be conscripted for military use during wartime emergency."

Jask sighed. "Ziggy, you're using big words again. What does that mean?"

"By the authority vested in me by the Concordiat, Bolo unit "Bessy" is hereby attached to the 1198th Armored Regiment of the Dinochrome Brigade."

"Bolo! Bessy is a real Bolo now?"

"Legally speaking. I place you in command of this unit also."

Jask couldn't believe what had just happened. The Bolo trusted him, just as his dad had trusted him. He could feel the pride and energy coming back. "I'll get Lieutenant Orren out of here, Ziggy. For the Brigade. I promise."

"It is an honor to serve with you, Jask. I recommend that you evade the Enemy and attempt to rendezvous with Concordiat forces. I am attempting to come to your location and engage the enemy, but I could be more effective if I were acting in coordination with units of the Brigade. And there is one more thing-"

"What, Ziggy? Anything." And he meant that.

"Article 99180.010c requires me to notify you that the Concordiat will duly compensate you for use of your vehicle."

"More big words again, Ziggy," Jask said. "But don't worry, I'll get Lieutenant Orren to safety."

"Thank you."

Seven.

"Learn from one's mistakes."

It is a curiously obvious philosophy, since it underlies the thinking processes of any sentient being. But perhaps there is something to be gained from it after all.

Up until now, I have concentrated on use of my operational weapons systems for propulsion, but I have ignored my most powerful weapons, my 90 megaton h.e.l.lrails, because they were damaged. But my maintenance and operation database records over one hundred and sixty-four-thousand operational failure modes. I will reexamine the damage and begin a search of that database-

"Kal my friend," General Kiel said into his headset as he sat down in front of the holographic projection of the battlefields. "What have you discovered out there?'

"I am transversing the mountains near Kennis Peak," the Bolo said. "Over the last few hours I have encountered only scattered enemy armored units. I have confirmed destroyed six Toro tanks, two fast marauders, and four armored personnel carriers."

Keil took note on the map where the Bolo was. "Good work," Kiel said. "Anything that would lead you to believe there is something else going on in the area?"

"There is," Kal said. "I have detected seismic readings indicating that a large armored force may be in the area, but the heavy metals in the mountains nearby scramble my sensors. I am unable to locate them, or even confirm their existence at this time."

Kiel shook his head as he stared at the mountains around Kal's position. "Not good news at all. We're running out of time here."

"Why is that, General?" Kal asked.

"My friends in headquarters tell me the unofficial word is that a ma.s.sive Melconian movement is underway. The Bolo regiments here could be recalled unless there is substantial evidence that the Kezdai can be driven from Delas in short order."

"Logical," Kal said. "But not practical."

"True," Kiel said. He quickly fed rendezvous coordinates to Kal. "Make the best speed there. It's time to stop playing spy and just fight."