Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [24]
The second vehicle scuttled backward, the turret swinging toward G-Man, the lethal energy gun drawing a bead. But that was according to plan, as Ruiz, Teal, and Falco opened up with everything they had, hitting the little tank directly in the back of the turret. The hail of lead and steel perforated the metal dome in a hundred places, casting sparks and fumes and burning bits of metal through the near vaccum of the Martian atmosphere.
The two wrecks were still smoking as the SEALS closed in from three sides. Jackson was the closest, and he got there first. As the others came up, he was already moving toward the second vehicle, having inspected the gaping interior of the first.
“Who are they, LT?” Ruiz asked, his weapon leveled at the smoldering metal target.
“We just ambushed a couple of robots, gentlemen,” Jackson said bitterly. “Nothing but a pair of goddamn machines.”
“All right. So they had a robot gun and two robot tanks. But somebody’s got to be setting these things up!” Ensign Sanders declared, as several of the SEALS and the MS1 directors gathered in conference just inside the loading dock.
“I agree,” Jackson said. “They have to be controlled from somewhere.”
After the little battle, the shuttle had made an uneventful return, but everyone’s nerves were on edge. Jackson had radioed Pegasus before they had launched, and the frigate had shadowed them from orbit, having found everything A-OK at MS2 and MS4. There had been no further attacks. Captain Carstairs reported also that his sophisticated detection systems showed nothing about any anomalous objects in orbit: There were just the one Terran space station, a number of satellites, and that large Shamani ship, the Gladiola, circling the planet. Consul de Campe Char-Kane had traveled to Mars aboard that vessel and testified that the crew and officers were all loyal servants of her empire.
Adding to the tension, the communications and radar center in the station had reported other anomalous objects, potentially many more of the robot tanks, closing in on the station from all sides. Master Chief Ruiz was busily deploying the rest of the SEALS in shooter pairs at various locations around the perimeter of the station while Jackson, Sanders, and Chief Harris met with the MS1 command staff. That included Director Parker, Professor Zaro, Dr. Sulati, Captain Cheever, and the Shamani consul.
“These attackers—they could be controlled from space, no?” Professor Zaro asserted. “A remote station in orbit over the planet, perhaps.”
Jackson shrugged. “If so, they’re doing it from a secret platform, and Pegasus has some pretty good spotting equipment. I don’t see how they could broadcast a signal and mask it from the frigate. So no, I don’t think that’s likely.”
“It’s starting to look like we’re under siege,” Captain Cheever said. He was the ranking military officer there but served under the command of Director Parker. On the return to MS1 Cheever had let slip that he’d flown A-15 tactical assault bombers back in the early ’40s, and Jackson could sense the air force pilot’s frustration at being stuck there with only an unarmed shuttle at his command; too bad the drop boats weren’t really designed for air support. Sure, they were heavily armed and armored, but they were not much more than ballistic rockets with limited maneuverability. The pilots referred to them as having the atmospheric flight characteristics of cinder blocks.
The Bostonian had grown unusually pale upon hearing the SEALS’ reports and now looked toward Jackson imploringly. “What can we do, Lieutenant? What can you do?”
“Well, we can fight, sir. And we can keep in touch with the Pegasus. She can give us some heavy-duty fire support from orbit. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the precision for antitank work. But she can lay down a nasty barrage if we need one. But dammit, I’m not content to wait here and let these bastards close in in their own sweet time. I lost four good men today, and I intend to find the son of a bitch responsible.”
“That’s all well and good, Lieutenant,