154
While I have survived an attack on me by my own commander, and can continue to do so, clearly I cannot retaliate. I compute that in the end I must be overwhelmed. But I cannot allow humanity to waste its resources on my destruction. I must capitulate and place myself at the disposal of my Commander.
I shall communicate with Field Marshal General Margrave and try once again to justify my actions, but I must not let him know the full horror of the threat to Man. I shall do my best. The matter rests with the general.
155
(documents relating to the Margrave Tragedy, October, 1092 NS)
i
This note is for your eyes only, Elisabeth. As General-in-Chief of His Majesty's Armed Forces, I have blundered fatally. I tried to kill the Bolo, and failed. I cannot command my own creature, nor can I understand its actions. It roams at will, behaving inscrutably. But clearly something's afoot, and I am powerless even to discover what is happening. I have had a long and full life. My only regret is my failure to keep abreast of the times. -Tally
ii
An unconfirmed report from a source close to the palace states that Lord Field Marshal General Talbot Margrave was injured in an accident at his forest retreat near Duluth. Details will follow at 1600 hours.
iii
Yessir, I'm the one found him. Laying right there on the rocks. I only checked to see if he's alive, but no pulse in the neck. Heck no, I didn't move nothing. I was too scared to do anything but run to the phone like I done. Like, my duty as a public-spirited subject. I never heard no shot, but then I jest come up to check the equipment shed like always. Seen him from there.
iv
Willy-What the devil's going on? Margrave was (hard to say 'was') the toughest old bird who ever led an infantry charge on an entrenched tank battalion. I can't conceive of his shooting himself. Why? Things must be worse than I thought. Does it have any connection with the Bolo's latest antics? Willy, I need information, and I need it fast. Do whatever you have to do.-George.
156
The attacks have ceased; now I can proceed with my programs. I dislike it, but it must be done: while the enemy is yet at a distance from Sol, I must make personal contact so as to broaden my data-base-and I require my full powers. This is vital at this point. This will involve considerable manipulation of human individuals, much to my regret, yet it is in the interest of humanity. I have decided to employ the good offices of Joel Trace, who has proven to be most sympathetic to my aims-a circumstance which, while not essential to success, renders my work less complex and reduces the need for direct interference in interpersonal relations among humans. I shall take immediate steps to make it possible for Mr. Trace to join me here.
I am satisfied that I have proven the concept of remote hologrammatics. It is time to make use of the technique to make direct contact with my chosen intermediary, Joel Trace-but in a guise less intimidating than an apparition of a twelve-foot angel with a flaming sword.
157
(letter from Joel Trace to his wife)
Maybe I'm coming unwired. I'm staying at a little old hotel north of Yuma, used to be a fancy gambling hall and bordello back a couple of hundred years ago. Solid 'dobe, guess the old dump will last forever, but pretty cozy at that. I had really conked out (my first real bed in a week) and woke up with this twittering sound going on. Figured a bat or something had got in the room, but it was a little white bird. After a while I realized it was saying something, like a speeded-up recording. Telling me to go to the Post Office at ten A.M. and use the phone booth outside to call a number-161-347290 -too many digits, I know; anyway, I wrote it down and went back to sleep. Next A.M. I would've thought it was a dream, but there was the number. So I went to the P.O. and tried it and got a ring. Guy with a creaky voice answered right away; knew me, too. 'Mr. Trace.' he said, not asking, just calling me by name, 'here are your instructions,' and he told me- gotta go, honey, a hick cop is outside looking the place over, and I've got things to do. -Joel
158
(Joel Trace, first phase of Bolo's plan)
'You Security boys took long enough to get here. Certainly, I'll come along peacefully. I want to come along. No sense to six of you goons aiming issue revolvers at me. Keep your hands off me. I can walk.'
159
(Joel Trace, second phase of Bolo's plan, Palace First Secretary, to Georgius Imperator)
'Sire, this man, Joel Trace, is the one who designed the Mark XXX, as much as any one man can be said to
