Earth Afire

by Orson Scott Card

  We won't get home before sunrise, Bingwen realized. Not at this pace. Not with three kilometers of rice fields to traverse. He watched Grandfather's feet, shuffling forward, carefully maneuvering each step.

  Step. Shuffle. Step. Shuffle.

  Bingwen looked up. It was a cloudless night. The Milky Way and millions of stars arced across the sky. One of the stars seemed particularly bright. At first Bingwen thought it might be a plane or a high-altitude skimmer. But the light didn't move. It didn't blink. It stayed there, staring down at him, unflinching. Bingwen kept his eyes on it, waiting for it to drop from the sky and spill fire.

  CHAPTER 11

  HERC

  Mazer doubted he would get through to the NZSAS, but he went to his office to try contacting them anyway. It was the middle of the night, and the administration building was dark and deserted when he arrived. The holodesk was on and waiting for him, cycling through images of Chinese soldiers in combat gear. Mazer wiped his hand through the field, and the images disappeared, replaced with a menu of Chinese characters. The base didn't have an English model, but Mazer knew enough characters to operate the thing. He tapped out the appropriate commands and waited.

  The star icon spun in the field, indicating the uplink was pinging Auckland. Mazer had tried this hours ago, but the grid had been too congested then. Trying now, moments after the alien ship had fired upon news shuttles and essentially declared war on the human race, would almost certainly prove a waste of time; every secure link in the New Zealand Army would be in use now.

  To Mazer's surprise, there was a chime, and a New Zealand comms technician appeared in the holofield. The tech was young, barely eighteen, and looked frazzled.

  "NZ comms," said the tech. "You are connected. Identify. Over."

  "Captain Mazer Rackham requesting immediate contact with Colonel Napatu at Papakura. NZSAS."

  "One moment, sir." The tech busied himself with offscreen controls.

  Mazer watched him. He's not frazzled, Mazer realized. He's afraid. He's scared out of his buck-private mind because the world he thought he knew, a world in which nothing questioned our position at the top of the food chain, was just thrown out with the bathwater.

  The tech finished whatever he was doing. "I'm sorry, Captain. Colonel Napatu is inaccessible. Shall I patch you through to the SAS switchboard?"

  "Yes, please."

  "One moment."

  The kid disappeared. The star icon returned. Mazer waited for ten minutes. Finally Sergeant Major Manaware, Colonel Napatu's assistant, answered. Before Mazer could say a word, the sergeant major said, "Your orders are to maintain your position, Captain."

  The holofield chimed, and a memo from Colonel Napatu appeared as an icon in the field. A form order, no doubt.

  Mazer exhaled to keep his cool. "Sergeant Major, if the SAS deploys, my team needs to be on hand. No one knows the HERC like we do."

  "Captain, I know you're frustrated, but the colonel's got seventeen strike teams on assignment all over the planet, and right now we don't have the means to bring you all home. And even if we did, the colonel is asking everyone to stay put. We don't know what we're up against, and we are not yet in a state of war. The alien ship remains in geosynchronous orbit. We're not circling the wagons just yet. Colonel Napatu is on conference with the admiral and other unit chiefs as we speak. In the meantime, watch the feeds and stay informed."

  "That's just it," said Mazer. "We can't watch the feeds anymore. After the alien ship destroyed the news shuttles, the Chinese blocked all public access to the feeds. We're in the dark. We have no idea what's going on now. I think the Chinese are trying to prevent a panic, but they're liable to only make things worse."

  "Then check in with us on the switchboard every few hours, we'll keep you informed."

  "I usually can't get through," said Mazer. "It's a miracle I got through this time. Request permission to keep this line open."

  "Negative. I need every available line. If you can't check in with us, then use your receivers to access one of our satellites."

  "We can't do that either. The Chinese only allow access to their own satellites. They jam everything else. It's been that way ever since we got here."

  Manaware was getting impatient. "Then talk to the Chinese. Even if they've blocked public access, the military will still have access to feeds. Ask them to keep you informed."

  "Yes, but--"

  "Captain, I've got twenty holos in my queue to answer. Excuse me."

  He clicked off.

  Mazer tried reconnecting with the switchboard, but he couldn't get through. He waited ten minutes, tried again, then slammed his fist on the desk when the transmission failed. He switched off the machine, closed his eyes, and exhaled. The SAS wasn't getting them out. And now Mazer and his team were cut off from the world, right when they needed minute-by-minute intel.

  He tapped the memo Manaware had sent and opened it. He skimmed through it in five seconds and saw exactly what he had expected. Carry on. Continue in your duty. We'll keep you informed. Blah blah blah.

  He couldn't take much more of this. The world had known for eleven days now that the ship was coming, and all anyone wanted to do was wait and see. Let's not act, everyone was saying. Let's wait and see. Let's observe this alien ship. Let's watch it and see what it does.

  Well guess what, geniuses, "waiting and seeing" is the same as "waiting and getting blown up." Did the U.N. actually think all that wreckage in the Belt was the miners' fault? And now the aliens had just disintegrated the secretary of alien affairs. A clown to be sure, but the man was an emissary of the human race. These creatures, whatever they are, just took our little flag of peace and pissed all over it.

  And what does the SAS do? Do they bring Mazer and his team home at all speed and prepare for the worst? No. They park us in China and have us whistle our way through our training exercises.

  Mazer got up and headed back toward the barracks. He knew exactly how the world would respond. The Chinese would shy away from any coalition agreement and claim that the protection of their own people was their first priority. In other words, China would look out for China. The Russians would almost certainly bow out as well, though for different reasons. Why help the U.S. and other superpowers retain their strength? Why not let the aliens hammer the coalition? That would suit the Russians just fine. Their military is the weakest it's been in decades. They'd love to see everyone else brought down to their level.

  Mazer entered the barracks and found his team waiting for him.

  "Did you get through?" said Fatani.

  "What did the colonel say?" said Reinhardt.

  "Quiet," said Patu. "Let him talk."

  "I spoke to Manaware," said Mazer. "Our orders are to stay put."

  "Stay put?" said Reinhardt. "Are you kidding me? They just blew up the damn reception party."

  "The colonel is in council," said Mazer. "If orders change, they'll ping us."

  "Well that's fine and dandy," said Reinhardt. "That's just roses and pansies. And what are we supposed to do when this thing starts blowing up cities? Sit here and eat our rice and wave in the general direction of the destruction?"

  "You watch too many movies," said Patu. "Nobody's blowing up cities."

  "How do you know?" said Reinhardt. "It blew up those shuttles easily enough. And with a single gun no less. Who knows what it can do?"

  "Why keep us here?" said Fatani. "We need to be back home, ready to deploy."

  "Agreed," said Mazer. "But Manaware says there's no means to bring us home at the moment. There are too many strike teams on assignment. It would be a logistical nightmare."

  "We're the army," said Patu. "We're experts on logistics."

  "It's a matter of resources," said Mazer. "We're a handful of soldiers in a very big army. The military isn't going to use a good portion of the air force to gather up a hundred soldiers or less. We're a drop in the bucket. Those fighters are on high alert and could be needed at any moment."

 
"Then let us get home on our own," said Fatani. "Don't command us to stay here. They can't afford to send a plane? Fine. Let us get back our own way."

  "Those aren't our orders," said Mazer.

  "So what do we do?" said Patu.

  "First," said Mazer, "we get intel. We need a visual on that ship."

  Patu shook her head. "I've tried." She gestured to the holoscreen and the two satellite receivers she had set up on tripods. "I've got three discs on the roof right now, and they're not picking up a thing. The Chinese are still jamming other satellites and silencing the public feeds."

  "What about shortwave radio?" said Fatani.

  "I already tried," said Patu. "I can't pick up anything useful. The base is surrounded by rice farmland. Not exactly a hotspot for rogue radio operators."

  "And you can't crack the jammers?" Mazer asked Patu.

  "If I knew what devices they were using and where they were located, I could probably figure out how to disable them. As is, I got nothing."

  "So we're in a bubble?" said Reinhardt.

  "It's like we're in the eighteenth century," said Fatani.

  "The jamming is probably localized," said Patu. "They can't cover all of China. It's probably only for military use. If I had to guess, I'd say it only covers the boundaries of the base and a few kilometers of spillover."

  "So if we go outside the base," said Mazer, "and set up our dishes, we should get an uplink?"

  Patu shrugged. "Maybe. No way to be sure until we try."

  "The Chinese have us on lockdown," said Fatani. "We're not supposed to leave the base."

  "Who cares about the rules?" said Reinhardt. "This is an international emergency. I say we load up a HERC and get airborne."

  "If we take a HERC, they'll be all over us," said Mazer. "Let me talk to Captain Shenzu. Maybe they'll give us an uplink to their military feeds."

  "And maybe a pig will jump out of my armpit and sing the national anthem," said Reinhardt. "They'll have all kinds of classified intel pumping through those feeds. They won't let us touch that with a ten-foot pole."

  "Doesn't hurt to ask," said Mazer. "Where are all the brass now?"

  "Holed up in the comms building," said Fatani. "We don't have access."

  "Then I'll knock," said Mazer. He left them and crossed the courtyard to the comms building. The door was solid steel. Mazer found a rock among the bushes and pounded on the metal. It was loud. The banging echoed through the courtyard. He kept pounding for five minutes until a guard threw open the door and yelled at him to stop.

  "Bring me Captain Shenzu, and I'll stop," Mazer said.

  The guard objected. Mazer started pounding on the door again. The guard tried to rip the rock from Mazer's hand. Mazer swept the guard's legs out and dropped him on his ass. Then he started pounding on the door again.

  "All right," said the guard, getting to his feet. "I'll get him. Just stop."

  Mazer tossed the rock back into the bushes and gave the man a friendly smile.

  Shenzu arrived two minutes later.

  "We're in the dark," said Mazer. "We need updates. Either stop jamming and let us access our own satellites or give us access to your military's feeds. Please, as a courtesy from one soldier to another."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that, Captain Rackham. The Politburo has given strict instructions on how information is disseminated. We're hoping they'll broadcast to the public again soon. In the meantime, we'll keep you informed."

  "Not good enough," said Mazer. "We don't want filtered data given when it's convenient. We want uncensored intel immediately as it happens. My team and I deserve that. This ship is a threat to our people as much as it is to yours."

  "Then use the uplink in your office."

  "I can't get through anymore. There's too much traffic."

  "That's an issue with your own military, Captain Rackham, not mine. I assure you, we will do our best to keep you informed."

  Before Mazer could respond Shenzu turned and walked away, nodding at the two armed guards who had accompanied him. The guards stayed behind. They closed the metal door and stood outside facing Mazer, daring him to start knocking again. They were both bigger than the guard who had come the first time, but Mazer figured he could take them down easily enough. But what would that accomplish?

  He returned to his office and tried his holodesk again. He didn't get through. He tried five more times, and every time the connection failed. The ship could be moving toward Earth right this very moment, he realized. It could be happening right now. It could be headed toward home, guns ready. He thought of Kim, sitting in her office, watching the news feeds, unprotected. He got to his feet and returned to the barracks, trying to appear calm. "Shenzu said he'd keep us informed."

  "Not bloody likely," said Reinhardt.

  "We'll give the man the benefit of the doubt."

  They waited three hours, but no word from Shenzu came. Mazer replayed the scene over and over in his mind. The U.N. ship being vaporized. The news shuttles taking fire, shattering, ripping apart, the screams of the crew. He pictured Kim again. He saw the bright flashes of light ripping through her building, vaporizing her office. It was his imagination, he knew. Kim was safe. The world was a big place. If the alien ship attacked, it wouldn't go to New Zealand. The island was too small and insignificant a target. Kim was safe. Shenzu would come. Shenzu would bring them intel. He waited another hour, but that was all he could take. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing. He motioned his team to follow him. "Patu, bring the transmitter and satellite receiver. Everyone else, get your gear. We're taking a HERC."

  Ten minutes later they were walking across the tarmac on the airfield to where all the HERCs were parked. They moved quickly and saw no one. They climbed aboard a HERC, stowed their gear, buckled in, and lifted off.

  "Head east, low to the ground," said Mazer. "We'll only go a few kilometers outside the base. Hopefully we'll be beyond the jamming out there."

  Reinhardt turned the HERC east and accelerated, flying only a few meters above the tarmac. "You think anyone will follow us?"

  "They'll know we're airborne by now, but it will take a few minutes for them to scramble a crew. We'll be long gone by then. Patu, can you remove the tracker?"

  She unbuckled her harness and came forward. "As long as Mr. Ace Pilot here can keep us steady." She slid on a headband light, grabbed a few tools, and lay down on her back under the dash. When they reached the end of the airfield, Reinhardt lifted the HERC a few meters into the air to clear the fence and then continued east across open country. Ten seconds later Patu came out from under the dash holding a small box. She handed it to Mazer and returned to her seat.

  They cut north for another two kilometers before Mazer pointed to a field and said, "Park us over there, keep the gravlens running."

  Reinhardt banked to the left, descended, and slowed the HERC to a stop, a meter above the ground. Mazer opened his door and dropped the tracker box onto a thick clump of grass, hoping not to damage it. He then closed his door, lowered his visor, and called up the map on his HUD. They were still on base, and none of the other HERCs were airborne yet. They still had a lead.

  "Take us northeast to the river," Mazer said. "Fast. We need distance between us and the box."

  The HERC lifted and shot forward in that direction. The base was roughly ten square kilometers, most of it grassy flatland, which wouldn't provide much cover. The river, however, with its canopy of trees and narrow valley walls would give them some decent concealment.

  "Patu," said Mazer. "Have that sat receiver ready. I want us getting a feed as soon as we're clear of their jammers."

  "Assuming we can get clear of the jammers," said Fatani. "We're only guessing at their range."

  "The Chinese aren't going to invest money and equipment to jam feeds over farmland," said Mazer. "I think Patu's right. We go far enough off base, and we'll pick up something."

  Reinhardt crested a hilltop and descended quickly down into the river valley. It was sti
ll full dark, but the night-vision feature inside their helmets gave them a clear view of everything. The HERC dipped down between the trees directly above the river. Using the water like a road, Reinhardt took them north, weaving them back and forth with the curvature of the water. Twice he had to quickly lift them over the trees where the canopy was too thick to squeeze through. Another time he hopped up to avoid a bridge.

  "Hey," said Patu. "How about a little warning on the hops? I'm holding sensitive equipment here."

  Reinhardt gave the stick a little wiggle, wobbling the HERC and jostling Patu in her seat.

  "Funny," said Patu. "Real funny. How would you like my boot, Reinhardt? Up your ass or in your teeth?"

  "On a bun with mustard please," said Reinhardt.

  Patu only shook her head.

  They moved north through the river valley for another five minutes and then suddenly they were over rice fields. No fence marked the end of the base's borders, but the difference in landscape couldn't have been more distinct.

  "Anything, Patu?" asked Mazer.

  "Not yet."

  "Northeast," Mazer said to Reinhardt. "Keep your eyes open for a spot with decent elevation and a place to hide the HERC. As soon as Patu gets a clear signal we'll land."

  Captain Shenzu's head appeared in the holofield above the dash. "Captain Rackham. You and your team will kindly return to the airfield immediately. You are not authorized to seize government property whenever you choose. Disengaging the tracker box is a serious offense. Please, for your own safety, return to the airfield. If you fail to comply, we will be forced to take action to recover our property. I repeat, we will be forced--"

  Mazer shut off the holofield. "Patu?"

  "Working on it. Still no signal. But the jamming is weakening the farther we go out. That's a good sign."

  "Keep on it."

  "So what are we going to do if we do get a signal and nothing is happening?" said Reinhardt. "What if that ship is just parked there in space doing nothing? We can't sit out here and watch it forever."

  "Couple of options," said Mazer. "Once we run out of rations, we could fly the HERC back to base and face the fury of the Chinese, who, worst-case scenario, arrest us and imprison us for life, or best-case scenario, throw us out of the country."

  "Getting tossed out of China is preferable," said Reinhardt, "since it gets us home. But, since we'll also likely be court-martialed, stripped of our rank, and humiliated upon arrival in Auckland, I'm not too keen on that either. Other options?"