Earth Afire

by Orson Scott Card

  It took him only a moment. When it was ready, he popped the lens cap, and the news feed projected onto the side of the house opposite the library. A reporter was standing in the streets of Beijing. Thousands of people were behind him, all of them watching the massive screens on the sides of buildings. The screens all showed live images of a red ship shaped like a giant teardrop.

  Below Bingwen, someone shouted and pointed to the projection. "Look!"

  The voice of the street reporter boomed from the speaker. Bingwen adjusted the volume, and the crowd of villagers quickly congregated in front of the house. Several of them applauded and whistled and briefly shined their lights up to the roof to see who had done them the favor. Hopper was standing at the roof's edge, chest out, waving to the crowd like a general returning from war.

  Bingwen caught site of Grandfather, who gave him a wink.

  "... tens of thousands of people have taken to the streets," the reporter said. "All of them here to see and experience this historic event together. I've stopped several people, and their feelings span the emotional spectrum. Some told me they're afraid, that the destruction of mining ships in the Belt troubles them deeply..."

  The reporter prattled on.

  "Are you frightened, Bingwen?" Hopper asked.

  They were sitting beside each other on the roof now, hugging their knees tight to their chests to stay warm in the chilled night air.

  Bingwen made a slight adjustment on the speaker in front of him so that the sound in their direction lessened but that the audio for those below remained the same.

  "Aren't you?" Bingwen asked.

  "I'd never say so to my father or to Meilin ... but I have dreams now. Nightmares. My mother says I scream at night. The dream is so real. It's right there in my room, standing over me."

  "The creature?"

  Hopper nodded. "Only it's not wearing a compression suit. It's not wearing anything. It just stands there, looking down at me." He looked skyward, as if he could see the ship beyond the blackness.

  "It's a dream, Hop. I have them, too."

  Hopper turned, surprised.

  "A lot of people do," said Bingwen. "Even my father. He had to splash water in his face the other night and sit by the fire. Couldn't go back to sleep. I'd never seen him like that. But they're dreams, Hop. That's all they'll be. That ship looks big in the projection, but the world is much bigger. Twelve billion people strong. Whatever the creatures are, they won't touch us here."

  "You don't believe that. You've been stockpiling supplies. You've been preparing for the worst. You told me to expect the worst."

  It was true. Bingwen had been scrambling ever since Yanyu sent him the vid. And he'd been telling Hopper to do the same. But gloom and doom wasn't what Hopper needed to hear now. The time for prep was over. All they could do now was stay even keeled and alert.

  "It's food storage," said Bingwen. "I'm playing it safe. I mostly do it in case supplies run short and the trucks don't come. Grandfather and I have a lot, we'll share."

  "You're only trying to make me feel better again," said Hopper.

  "You're right," said Bingwen. "I take back everything I've said today, especially the part about you being smart." Then he gave Hopper his toothiest grin.

  Hopper rolled his eyes and shoved Bingwen lightly on the shoulder.

  The shouting below startled them both.

  "Stop!" Ms. Yi stormed out of the building, waving her arms. "Stop!" She ran in front of the projection and faced the crowd. "You can't do this. All of you, go home!" She pointed a finger up at Bingwen. "You little rat, you put everything back."

  Someone threw a shoe. The light from the projection was in Ms. Yi's eyes, so she only recoiled at the last moment. The shoe lightly bounced off her chest, but Ms. Yi squealed as if it had taken off her arm. Several people laughed.

  "Go back inside," someone yelled.

  "Leave us alone."

  "Get out of the light."

  Ms. Yi looked defiant. "The regional director will hear about this!"

  Another shoe flew, and Ms. Yi squealed again and retreated, covering her face with her arm. More laughter. Bingwen watched her go, feeling sorry for her.

  Ms. Yi stopped at the library door and shined her light toward the roof. "You will never set foot in this building again, Bingwen. You understand? You either, cripple."

  "Eat farts, pig face!" Hopper shouted.

  More people laughed and Ms. Yi disappeared inside.

  "Smart," said Bingwen. "Now you'll never get to take the test."

  "She wasn't going to let us take it anyway. Besides, we don't need her. We'll come back at three in the morning and take the test then. Right, ladder boy?"

  They went back to watching the broadcast. The street reporter was interviewing someone when the anchor interrupted him and the feed switched to live coverage of the alien ship in space. Several news shuttles had tentatively approached it, and these gave the alien ship a sense of scale. It was bigger than Bingwen expected. He had seen all the evidence Yanyu had forwarded him; he had examined all the data and holos the free miner had uploaded. Yet numbers were merely numbers. This was the real thing, larger than anything humans had ever dreamed of building.

  The crowd of villagers was silent now. No one moved. Hopper was wide-eyed and rigid with fear.

  The commentator's voice said, "An envoy from the United Nations is now approaching the alien ship, which for the past forty minutes has not changed its position or moved."

  What is it doing? Bingwen wondered. Why is it just sitting there? Is it waiting for us? Attempting to communicate?

  In space, a distance from the alien ship, a small ship approached, escorted by two news shuttles. The feed switched to cameras from the shuttle escorts, and Bingwen saw that the approaching ship was light blue and emblazoned with the mark of the United Nations. The feed switched again to cameras inside the ship, where a dark-skinned man stood anchored to the floor in formal attire, smiling like an idiot.

  The commentator's voice was almost a whisper now. "We go now to U.N. Secretary of Alien Affairs Kenwe Zubeka, who carries with him gifts and tokens of peace from a hundred and eighty-seven countries."

  The U.N. ship stopped within a few kilometers of the alien ship. A platform detached itself from the underside of the U.N. ship and floated forward. A massive disc-shaped holo flickered to life above the platform like a Frisbee.

  The news broadcaster said, "U.N. delegates from twelve different nations insisted that Secretary Zubeka have a military escort, but Zubeka refused, saying quote, 'We will not aim a gun with one hand and offer a token of peace with the other.'"

  Inside the ship, Zubeka spread his arms. "Welcome. On behalf of the people of Earth, I extend a hand of fellowship to you, our brethren of the universe."

  A voice on the feed translated Zubeka's words into Mandarin.

  "We present you with this hologram, a show of our hope for peace and mutual respect between our species."

  Above the disc a giant holo of a dove with an olive branch in its beak flapped it wings, as if taking flight.

  Bingwen sighed. A dove? That means nothing to this species. They've never seen one and have no idea what it represents.

  "This creature is a dove," said Zubeka. "A symbol of our--"

  Hundreds of globules of light exploded from a point on the alien ship and rained down on the dove, disintegrating the platform beneath it. The hologram winked out, and the villagers watching gasped and recoiled.

  Zubeka's smile waned, but he strained to keep his composure. "They must be offended that I didn't come forward in person."

  The cameras from the news shuttles swiveled and zoomed in on the alien ship, where a section of the hull had slid open and a strange, elongated device was protruding from inside. Clearly a weapon of sorts. Zubeka kept his eyes forward but gestured to the captain of the ship to his right. "Captain, perhaps we should give the ship some space."

  The captain spun to one of the flight controllers. "Back us up!
Get us out of--"

  A second burst of light shot forth, engulfed the U.N. ship, and shattered it to bits.

  The villagers screamed. Hopper scrabbled backward, screaming, frantic. The alien gun rotated, fired again. A news shuttle vaporized. Then another. A third one turned and tried to flee, but the aliens hit it from behind. Dust. The gun swiveled again. Screams from inside the last shuttle remaining, the one broadcasting. The camera shook. The image spun as the ship turned, unsteady, frantic, desperate. There were noises off screen, people screaming, scrambling, engines gaining power, preparing to run.

  A searing burst of light punctuated the chaos, and the projected feed went to black.

  For a brief moment the villagers were too shocked to speak. Then everyone began shouting out at once, getting to their feet, calling out names, searching for others in the crowd, picking up children, telling loved ones to hurry, rushing for the village stairs that led down to the fields. Several of the men were calling for calm, but no one seemed to be listening.

  "Bingwen!"

  Bingwen looked down. Mother was below, frantically waving for him to get off the roof.

  "I'm coming!"

  "What do we do?" said Hopper. Tears were running down his cheeks, but he seemed not to notice.

  Bingwen grabbed him by the arms. "Hop! Look at me. Look at my face. That ship is in space and we are down here. You understand? It's far away. We're safe."

  Hop blinked, nodded.

  "We need to help everyone stay calm. All right? Someone's going to get hurt if we don't. I need you to have a clear head."

  Hopper blinked again, nodding, coming to himself. He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "Right. Yes. Sorry. What do you want me to do?"

  "Come with me."

  They ran and retrieved the ladder, lowered it over the side, then slid to the ground. Bingwen hastily hid the ladder in the grass, then he and Hopper sprinted to the front of the building. Mother was there. She scooped Bingwen up into her arms. Father arrived a moment later, half carrying, half dragging Grandfather, who was holding his side and wincing.

  "What happened?" said Mother.

  "Crowd pushed him over on the stairs," said Father. "Nearly trampled him. It's madness. They would've killed him if I hadn't pulled him out."

  He lowered Grandfather to the ground, who clutched at his chest, gritting his teeth.

  "Your heart," said Mother. There was panic in her voice.

  "I'm fine," said Grandfather, waving the concern away. "Bruises is all."

  "Broken ribs is more like it," said Father. "Maybe more."

  A toddler nearby, a young girl, stood alone, crying. People ran by her, oblivious, ignoring her. Bingwen nodded to Hopper, who understood at once and ran to the girl, kneeling beside her, putting an arm around her, comforting her, scanning the crowd for her mother. The child screamed on.

  "Bastards," wheezed Grandfather. "No respect for their elders. Knocked me over like a herd of water buffalo. I should carry a cane. I could've beat a few of them." He turned his head to Bingwen. "That mud sucker who gives you problems. The one that's all bluster."

  "Zihao," said Bingwen.

  "That's the one. Stepped on my kidney. Looked me right in the eye, too. No honor. I'll cut his liver out if I ever see him again."

  "Don't talk," said Mother.

  "I'm fine," said Grandfather. "I can walk. Give me a minute." He tried to sit up, winced, and fell back.

  "I'll stay with him," said Bingwen. "We'll catch up with you later."

  Mother looked uncertain.

  "Nobody's staying with me," said Grandfather. "I'm going at my own speed and pace. Don't know what all the rush is anyway. Alien ship blows up a few news shuttles, and everyone pisses their britches. Running around like fools won't accomplish anything."

  "He's right," said Bingwen. "This panic is only making things worse."

  "I'll stay with him," said Father. "Bingwen, get your mother home."

  "We're staying together," said Mother.

  "Only person who's staying is me," says Grandfather. "Am I not to be respected?"

  "Not this time," said Father.

  "Then leave me with Bingwen," said Grandfather. He pointed at Father. "If I go with you, I'll never hear the end of your complaints. All the way home, it'll be how I should be more careful, how it's my fault I fell, how I'm a burden."

  "You should be more careful," said Father.

  "You're no burden, Father," said Mother.

  "Leave me with the boy," said Grandfather.

  "You can't even walk," said Father. "Bingwen can't carry you."

  Grandfather pushed himself up, wincing, but he got to his feet this time. "I don't need carrying. We'll be right behind you. Go. Before someone ransacks our home and takes what little food we have."

  Mother and Father exchanged nervous glances.

  "What," said Grandfather, "you think these people will suddenly be civilized when they go home? They're stirred up like hornets. If they fear there's a fight ahead, they'll think only of themselves and stockpile whatever they get their hands on."

  Father looked back toward the retreating crowd. Mother covered her mouth with a hand, afraid. Bingwen almost told them then. Don't worry. I have supplies. I know you told me not to, Father, but I buried some tools and cans and rice sacks up at the top of the hill above the village. We'll be fine. For a little while at least.

  But before Bingwen could muster the courage to admit that he had defied Father, the moment was past and Father was pulling Mother by the hand back toward the stairs.

  "Get home as fast as you can, Bingwen," Father called back over his shoulder. Then he shouldered his way into the crowd, hurrying down the stairs, pulling Mother along. In seconds, Bingwen lost sight of them completely. He turned back to Grandfather, who had seated himself on the ground again, resting.

  Hopper was still with the little girl. But now Meilin, Bingwen's cousin, was with him also. The little girl clung to Meilin's shirt, her eyes wet and wild with fear.

  A young woman broke through the crowd, running back up the stairs. The little girl saw her, tore away from Meilin, and ran into the woman's arms. The woman embraced the child and lifted her up, crying, terrified, relieved.

  "How could you run off without your own child?" Hopper scolded.

  Meilin rounded on him, eyes wide with shock. Bingwen was surprised as well. It was unthinkable to address an adult like that.

  The woman was shaking her head, ashamed, clinging to her daughter. She mumbled her thanks and ran back the way she had come, the girl in her arms.

  "You see?" Grandfather said to Bingwen. "No respect for one's elders."

  When the woman was gone, Meilin poked Hopper hard in the chest. "You had no right to say that to her."

  "She had no right to abandon a two-year-old," said Hopper.

  "She might not have abandoned her. Maybe she thought her husband had her. Maybe she was helping someone."

  "She should have taken the child with her."

  "Oh you know so much about parenting."

  "Enough," said Grandfather. "Both of you. A sack of rice knows more about rearing children than either of you two. And where are your parents, hmm? Would you scorn your own mother so, boy?"

  Hopper hung his head, ashamed. "No, Ye Ye Danwen," he said, addressing Grandfather with the proper respect.

  "I should think not," said Grandfather. He motioned for Bingwen. "Help me up."

  Bingwen offered a hand and pulled, but it was Grandfather who did most of the work, getting one foot under him and then another, slowly, painfully getting to his feet.

  "Don't let me sit and rest again," he said. "Hurts too much to get back up." He inhaled deep and winced. "Hurts to breathe, too." He gingerly raised his arms above his head, stretching, testing the threshold of his pain. Then he lowered them, out of breath. "I need a length of fabric, Bingwen. To tie around my chest and keep my breaths shallow. And a staff."

  Bingwen looked around him. The area outside the library was d
eserted now except for the four of them. Homes lined both sides of the staircase that twisted up the hillside, and the lights inside the homes were mostly on. Bingwen could hear people talking in hushed, hurried voices. Fear, their voices said. Fear and death.

  Two houses up, a clothesline stretched between two homes. A sheet flapped on the line, lifting and falling with the updrafts from the valley below. Bingwen ran to the sheet, listened a moment, then yanked it down and threw it over his shoulder. At the same home, by the edge of the roof, a two-meter length of bamboo stretched from the corner of the roof to the rain barrel, directing the runoff. Bingwen turned the bamboo and pulled it free of its lashings, then carried both items to Grandfather.

  "That's stealing," said Meilin.

  "No," said Grandfather. "That's minding your elders. Rip the sheets into long strips, Bingwen."

  Bingwen dug in the dirt for a stone, found one with an edge, then worked it in the sheet enough to tear it. Then he got his fingers in the hole and ripped the sheet easily.

  They made long strips, wrapping them tight around Grandfather's chest and putting the knot far from the wound. "Tighter," Grandfather kept telling them, until it was so tight Bingwen was afraid Grandfather might not be able to breathe at all. But it was only then that Grandfather's face finally relaxed.

  "Good. Yes, good," he said. He sounded old and tired and leaned on the bamboo. "Now down the stairs with us."

  The four of them took to the stairs, moving at Grandfather's pace, taking each step slowly, one at a time. Grandfather's free hand rested on Bingwen's shoulder for support, clutching at the boy's shirt.

  "You two run on home," said Grandfather, nodding to Hopper and Meilin. "I'll not keep you. Your families will fear for you."

  "We're staying with you," said Meilin. "If you fall down the stairs, Bingwen will never get you home."

  Grandfather leaned on his staff and laughed, which instantly brought on a new wave of pain that nearly buckled him. "Don't make me laugh, child. Or I will fall."

  Bingwen grabbed Grandfather's belt to steady him more, and Grandfather nodded his thanks. Then Grandfather took a breath and, moving slower than before, continued down the staircase.