I emerge at last from the trap into which I had fallen, and at once encounter defensive words of considerable strength. My scanners are dulled from lack of power, but lam able to perceive open ground beyond the barrier, and farther still, at a distance of 5.7 kilometers, massive walls. Once more I transmit the Brigade Rally signal; but as before, there is no reply. I am truly alone.

I scan the surrounding area for the emanations of Enemy drive units, monitor the EM spectrum for their communications. I detect nothing; either my circuitry is badly damaged, or their shielding is superb.

I must now make a decision as to possible courses of action. Since all my comrades of the Brigade have fallen, I compute that the fortress before me must be held by Enemy forces. I direct probing signals at them, discover them to be of unfamiliar construction, and less formidable than they appear. I am aware of the possibility that this may be a trick of the Enemy; but my course is clear.

I reengage my driving engines and advance on the Enemy fortress.

7

“You’re out of your mind, father,” the stout man said. “At your age—”

“At your age, I got my nose smashed in a brawl in a bar on Aldo,” the old man cut him off. “But I won the fight.”

“James, you can’t go out at this time of night…” an elderly woman wailed.

“Tell them to go home.” The old man walked painfully toward his bedroom door. “I’ve seen enough of them for today.” He passed out of sight.

“Mother, you won’t let him do anything foolish?”

“He’ll forget about it in a few minutes; but maybe you’d better go now and let him settle down.”

“Mother—I really think a home is the best solution.”

“Yes,” the young woman nodded agreement. “After all, he’s past ninety—and he has his veteran’s retirement.…”

Inside his room, the old man listened as they departed. He went to the closet, took out clothes, began dressing.…

8

City Engineer Eaton’s face was chalk-white on the screen.

“No one can blame me,” he said. “How could I have known—”

“Your office ran the surveys and gave the PA the green light,” Mayor Dougherty yelled.

“All the old survey charts showed was ‘Disposal Area,’” Eaton threw out his hands. “I assumed—”

“As City Engineer, you’re not paid to make assumptions! Ten minutes’ research would have told you that was a ‘Y’ category area!”

“What’s ‘Y’ category mean?” Mayfield asked Reynolds. They were standing by the field comm center, listening to the dispute. Nearby, boom-mounted Tri-D cameras hummed, recording the progress of the immense machine, its upper turret rearing forty-five feet into the air, as it ground slowly forward across smooth ground toward the city, dragging behind it a trailing festoon of twisted reinforcing iron crusted with broken concrete.