Science fiction -- Periodicals; Science fiction, American -- Periodicals
The general's eyes went back to the space two miles wide and two miles
deep in which there was only a single observation-post functioning, and
that in charge of two strayed infantrymen. The battle in the fog was in
a formative stage, now, and the general himself had to watch the whole,
because it was by small and trivial indications that the enemy's plans
would be disclosed. The dead area was no triviality, however. Half a
dozen tanks were crawling through it, reporting monotonously that no
sign of the enemy could be found. One of the little sparks representing
those tanks abruptly went out.
"Tank here, sir, no longer reports."
The general watched with lack-luster eyes, his mind withdrawn in
thought.
"Send four helicopters," he said slowly, "to sweep that space. We'll see
what the enemy does."
One of the seated officers opposite him spoke swiftly. Far away a
roaring set up and was stilled. The helicopters were taking off.
* * * * *
They would rush across the blanket of fog, their vertical propellers
sending blasts of air straight downward. For most of their sweep they
would keep a good height, but above the questionable ground they would
swoop down to barely above the fog-blanket. There their monstrous screws
would blow holes in the fog until the ground below was visible. If any
tanks crawled there, in the spaces the helicopters swept clear, they
would be visible at once and would be shelled by batteries miles away,
batteries invisible under the artificial cloud-bank.
No other noises came through the walls of the monster tank. There was a
faint, monotonous murmur of the electric generator. There were the
quiet, crisp orders of the officers behind the general, giving the
routine commands that kept the fighting a stalemate.
The aircraft officer lifted his head, pressing his headphones tightly
against his ears, as if to hear mores clearly.
"The enemy, sir, has sent sixty fighting machines to attack our
helicopters. We sent forty single-seaters as escort."
"Let them fight enough," said the general absently, "to cause the enemy
to think us desperate for information. Then draw them off."
There was silence again. The steady fingers put pins here and there. An
enemy tank destroyed here. An American tank encountered an enemy and
ceased to report further. The enemy sent four helicopters in a wide
sweep behind the American lines, escorted by fifty fighting planes. They
uncovered a squadron of four tanks, which scattered like insects
disturbed by the overturning of a stone. Instantly after their
disclosure a hundred and fifty guns, four miles away, were pouring
shells about the place where they had been seen. Two of the tanks ceased
to report.
The general's attention was called to a telephone instrument with its
call-light glowing.
"Ah," said the general absently. "They want publicity matter."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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