Battlefield Earth

by L. Ron Hubbard

It parted.

  Like a streak of light Jonnie sprinted out of the door past Terl. Suddenly yanking talons caught in the buckskin.

  It ripped.

  Zigzagging like a hare, Jonnie headed for the nearest tree cover, momentarily expecting a pistol blast in the back.

  He halted with his back braced against a broad aspen.

  It was Chrissie!

  And not only Chrissie, there was Pattie.

  A sob surged up through Jonnie.

  Chrissie's glad cry rang out. “Jonnie!”

  Pattie yelled with delight. “Jonnie! Jonnie!”

  And Windsplitter started to trot toward him.

  “Go back!” screamed Jonnie. “Run! Oh my god, run!”

  They halted, perplexed, their gladness turning into alarm. At a distance behind Jonnie they could see a thing. They started to turn the horses.

  Jonnie crouched and whirled. Terl was still standing in the library door. Jonnie grabbed the handgun from his pouch and threw the safety off. He let the handgun show.

  "If you fire on them you're dead!” he shouted.

  Terl just stood there.

  There was a turmoil of horses behind Jonnie. He risked a glance back. Windsplitter had reared. He had seen no reason not to approach his master. He was fighting to come forward.

  “Run, Chrissie! Run!” screamed Jonnie.

  Terl was walking forward, rumbling, indolent. He had not drawn his gun.

  “Tell them to ride up closer,” called Terl.

  “Stand where you are!” shouted Jonnie. "I’ll shoot!”

  Terl leisurely strolled forward. “Don't get them hurt, animal.”

  Jonnie stepped out from the tree. The handgun was extended. He was sighting it on Terl's mask tube.

  “Be reasonable, animal,” said Terl. But he stopped.

  “You knew they would be here today!” said Jonnie.

  “Yes,” said Terl. "I’ve been tracking them by recon drone for days. Ever since they left your village. Put the gun away, animal.”

  Behind him Jonnie could hear the horses milling. If only they would run!

  Terl, paw staying clear of his gun, was reaching for his breast pocket.

  “Stay still or I’ll shoot!” called Jonnie.

  “Well, animal, you can go ahead and pull the firing catch if you like. The electrical connector has a dummy wire in it.”

  Jonnie looked at the gun. He took a deep breath and lined it up. He clenched the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  Terl finished his motion to his breast pocket. He took out the gold coin and tossed it in the air and caught it. "l, not Ker, sold you the gun, animal.”

  Jonnie pulled a kill-club from his belt. He braced himself for a charge.

  Terl's paw motion was swifter than the eye. His belt gun was out. It fired a sharp bark.

  An inhuman scream racketed out behind Jonnie. He glanced back. A pack horse was down, threshing.

  “Your friends will be next,” said Terl. Jonnie lowered the club.

  “That's better,” said Terl. “Now help me round these creatures up so we can get them in the truck.”

  Chapter 8

  The truck bumped southward with its cargo of freight and despair.

  Collared and cinched up to a bracing, Jonnie looked over the scene in misery.

  Pattie, bruised from a fall in the melee, was sitting bolt upright, arms lashed to her sides and her back lashed to a truck stake. She was in shock and her face was gray-white. She was eight now.

  The wounded horse, still bleeding from a deep blast penetration in its right shoulder, still burdened with its pack, lay on its side, legs kicking slightly from time to time. Terl had simply picked it up and dumped it into the truck bed. Jonnie worried that it might kick out and break the left leg of another horse. It was one of Jonnie's old string, named Blodgett.

  The three other horses were snubbed tight to the truck stakes and their nostrils were flaring in fear as the plain fled fast below the vehicle.

  Chrissie was lashed to a bracing across from Jonnie. Her eyes were shut. Her breathing was shallow.

  Questions had surged in Jonnie but he blocked them with tight lips. His own plans looked futile to him. He blamed himself for delaying his escape. He might have known that Terl had it all worked out. Hatred of the monster choked his throat.

  At length Chrissie opened her eyes and looked at him. She saw he was watching Pattie.

  “I couldn't leave her,” said Chrissie. “She followed and I took her back twice, but the third time we were too far out in the plain; it was better to go on.”

  “Just rest, Chrissie," said Jonnie.

  The horse Blodgett moaned as the truck banged over some rough ground.

  “I know I was early,” said Chrissie. “But Windsplitter came home. He was on the plain below the pass, and some of the boys were out to drive some cattle up and they saw him and Dancer and brought them in.” Dancer was the lead horse Jonnie had taken, a mare.

  Chrissie was quiet for a while. Then: "Windsplitter had a fresh scar on him like a puma had raked him and it looked like perhaps he might have run off and left you. I thought maybe you were hurt.”

  Yes, thought Jonnie. Windsplitter could have wandered back last year and when he tried to mount up through the passes found them blocked with snow. He would have wandered back to winter on the plain, followed by Dancer. There was a deep furrow, now healing, on Windsplitter's rump.

  “It’s all right,” said Jonnie soothingly.

  “I couldn't stand the idea of you lying down there hurt,” said Chrissie.

  The truck bumped on for a while.

  “Jonnie, there was a Great Village,” said Chrissie.

  “I know,” said Jonnie.

  "Jonnie, that's a monster, isn't it?” She twitched her head toward the cab.

  “Yes,” said Jonnie. “It won't harm you.” Any lie to calm her.

  “I heard you speak its language. It has a language, and you talk it.”

  "I’ve been its captive for almost a year,” said Jonnie.

  “What will it do? To Pattie? To us?”

  “Don't worry too much about it, Chrissie." Yes, god alone knew what the monster would do to them now. There was no reason to tell her this had messed up his escape. It wasn't her fault. It was his own. He had delayed too long.

  The truck swerved across a broken bridge and jolted on.

  Jonnie decided he had better tell her something to calm her. “It apparently wants something from me. I will have to do it now. It won't really harm you. Just threats. When I’ve done whatever it is, it will let us go.” He didn't like to lie. He had felt all along that Terl would kill him when he had served his unknown purpose.

  Chrissie managed a shaky smile. “Old Mr. Jimson is parson and mayor now. We got through the winter all right.”

  She was silent for a while. “We only ate two of your horses.”

  “That's good, Chrissie."

  “I made you some new buckskins,” said Chrissie. “They're in that pack.”

  “Thank you, Chrissie.”

  Pattie, her eyes dilated, suddenly screamed, “Is it going to eat us?”

  “No, no, Pattie," said Jonnie. “It doesn't eat living things. It 's all right, Pattie.”

  She subsided.

  “Jonnie.” Chrissie paused. “You're alive. That's the main thing, Jonnie.” Tears welled out of her eyes. “I thought you were dead!”

  Yes. He was alive. They were alive. But he didn't know for how long. He thought of Terl breaking the legs of the cattle.

  The truck rattled through an expanse of brush.

  "Jonnie," said Chrissie. “You're not mad at me, are you?”

  Oh, dear god. Mad at you. Oh god, no. He couldn't talk. He shook his head.

  The roar of the mine became louder in the distance.

  Chapter 9

  They had been left in the truck throughout the chilly night. Terl had simply put a couple of button cameras on it, one at each end, and had gone off
to his quarters.

  But it was midmorning now and Terl had been bustling about the cages since before dawn. Jonnie had not been able to turn his head enough to see what he was doing; the collar and leash had never been so tight.

  Terl came to the back of the truck and dropped its gate. He led the horses out and tied the lead ropes to a tree. Then he bodily shoved the wounded horse off the truck and when it hit the ground shoved it further out of the way. It was trying to stand and he cuffed it, knocking it down again.

  He came onto the bed and unfastened Pattie. He had a collar in his paw and he clamped it around Pattie's throat. He pulled out a welding torch and welded it shut and then welded a lead to it. Picking the little girl up with one swoop, he went off with her.

  Presently he came back. Chrissie shrank away from him. He had another collar and he welded it on. Jonnie had a closer look at it as the leash was fastened. This collar had a red bulge on its side. Jonnie realized that Pattie's had had one too.

  Terl looked at Jonnie's eyes. They were ice-blue and deadly. “Your turn in a moment, animal. No need to be cross. A whole new life is opening up for you.” He scooped up Chrissie and packed her off the truck.

  He was gone for some time. Jonnie heard the cage door opening and shutting as though being tested.

  Then the truck rocked as Terl's enormous weight came onto it again.

  He looked down at Jonnie. “Any more dummy wires?” he said. “You sure you're not sitting on a blast rifle that has its action dummy wired?” Terl laughed at his own joke. “You know, I am going to knock the crap out of Ker for not teaching you any better.” He was fumbling with Jonnie's leash and lashings. “Rat brain,” said Terl.

  The recon drone rumbled in from the distance and passed over with an earsplitting roar. Jonnie glared at it as it passed.

  “Good,” said Terl, approving. “You know what spotted her and so you know what will spot you now, if you get up to anything I don't like. Beautiful pictures we get with that thing. Tiniest detail. Get off the truck.”

  Jonnie was yanked toward the cage. Terl had indeed been busy. Several things were changed. One of them was his instructor machine and table. It now sat outside the cage. Terl yanked him to a halt.

  Chrissie and Pattie were tied to an iron rod that had been inset into the side of the pool. Chrissie was trying to massage some feeling back into Pattie's arms and legs, and the little girl was crying with the pain of returning blood.

  “Now, animal,” said Terl, “I am giving you a briefing tour, so pay very close attention.” Terl pointed to an electric connector box on a nearby wall. His talon indicated a heavy wire coming from it that led to the top bars of the cage, wound around each one, enclosed the whole cage high up, and returned to the box. Each cage bar now had insulator wrappings around the bottom.

  Terl yanked Jonnie over to a clump of bushes. A coyote was lying there, its head muffled in wrappings, snarls coming from it. Terl put on an insulator glove and picked up the coyote.

  “Now tell those two other animals to watch this carefully,” said Terl.

  Jonnie said nothing.

  “Well, no matter,” said Terl. “I see they are watching.”

  With his gloved paw, Terl held up the struggling coyote and launched it at the bars.

  There was a searing puff of light. The coyote shrieked.

  An instant later it was a charred, crackling mess on the bars, turning black.

  Terl chuckled. “Animal, tell them if they touch those bars, that's what will happen.”

  Jonnie told them never to touch the bars.

  “Next,” said Terl, taking off the glove and putting it in his belt, “we have a real treat for you.”

  Terl reached into his pocket and took out a compact switch box. “You know all about remotes, animal. Remember your tractor! This is a remote.” He pointed at the two girls. “Now look closely and you will see they are wearing a different kind of collar. See that red bulge on the side of the collar?”

  Jonnie did, all too clearly. He felt sick.

  “That,” said Terl, “is a small bomb. It is enough to shatter their necks and blow their heads off. Understand, animal?”

  Jonnie glared.

  “This switch,” said Terl, pointing to his remote control box, “is the small animal. This switch,” and he pointed to another, “sets off the collar of the other animal. This box-'

  " And what is the third switch?” said Jonnie.

  “Well, thank you for asking. I didn't think I was getting through to your rat brain. This third switch ignites a general charge in the cage that you do not know the location of and that will blow up the whole lot.”

  Terl was smiling behind his faceplate, his amber eyes slitted, flickering, watching Jonnie.

  At length he continued. “This control box is always on my person. There are also two other remotes in places you don't know about. Now, is all that very clear to you?”

  “It’s clear to me,” said Jonnie, repressing his shaking anger, “that one of the horses can come over and get electrocuted. It 's also clear that you could accidentally trip those controls.”

  “Animal, we are standing here jabbering and omitting the fact that I have truly befriended you.”

  Jonnie was very alert.

  Terl took out a metal cutter and snipped off Jonnie's collar. He then mockingly handed him its remains and the leash.

  “Run around,” said Terl. “Feel liberty. Frisk!”

  Terl moved off and started picking up some odds and ends of tools he had strewn about while working. The stench of the electrocuted coyote was rank in the air.

  “And what do I pay for this?” said Jonnie.

  Terl came back. “Animal, you must have realized by now– in spite of your rat brain– that your best course is to cooperate with me.”

  "In what way?”

  “That's better, animal. I like to see gratitude.”

  "In what way?” repeated Jonnie.

  “The company has some projects that need doing. They are very confidential, of course. And you are standing there pledging your full cooperation. Right?”

  Jonnie looked at him.

  “And when they are all done,” said Terl, “why, I will stagger you with gifts, and you can return to the mountains.”

  “With them,” said Jonnie, pointing at Chrissie and Pattie.

  “Of course, and with your four-legged companions as well.”

  Jonnie knew a false Terl when he saw one.

  “Of course,” said Terl, “if you try to get away– which I think by now you have found impossible– or if you seek to mess me up or if you don't succeed, why then, very easy, the little one loses its head. And if you repeat your mistake in any way, the bigger one loses its head. And if you go off the cable completely, the whole place blows up. Now do I have your promise of cooperation?”

  “I can move around all I please?”

  “Of course, animal. I’m tired of hunting rats for you. And I’m sure not going to hunt rats for those two in there!” Terl laughed, the soul of joviality.

  “I can go into the cage?”

  “When I’m standing outside with my little remote control box watching. Yes.”

  “I can ride around the country?”

  “As long as you wear this,” said Terl. He pulled out of his pocket a button camera with a loose neck band and dropped it over Jonnie's head. "If it shuts off or gets beyond a five-mile range, why, I just push the first switch.”

  “You're not a monster. You're a devil.”

  But Terl saw clearly he had won. “So you promise?”

  Jonnie dejectedly looked at the remote control box bulge in Terl's pocket. He looked at the two girls who were now gazing at him trustingly.

  “I promise to do the project,” said Jonnie. It was as far as he could be stretched.

  But it was enough for Terl. He almost gaily tossed his tools into the back of the truck and drove off.

  Jonnie walked over to the cage, careful not to touch the bars,
and began a cautious low-key explanation of what was going on. He felt like a cheat as he did so. If ever he had seen treachery, it had been in Terl's eyes.

  Part VI

  Chapter 1

  Leverage, leverage, Terl told himself as he went through company papers in his office.

  He must solve this riddle of Numph. With enough on the Planetary Director, Terl could begin his own project in earnest. Wealth and power on home planet beckoned from the future. Only Numph could drop a mine bucket on him. And Terl was determined that once his project was completed, he was not going to spend ten more years on this cursed planet. With enough on Numph, all he had to do was finish the project, obliterate all evidence (including vaporizing the animals), get his employment terminated, and there he'd be, wallowing in luxury at home. But Numph was getting a little restive; in the last interview a couple of days ago Numph had complained of the noise of the recon drone in its daily pass-by, and veiling it as a sort of compliment, he noted that the “mutiny” was not showing up on his lines. There was something on Numph. Terl was fervidly certain of it.

  He was thumbing through a company publication, “Metal Markets of the Galaxies,” which was issued several times a year. It was supposed to go to the sales department but there was none on this planet, since it sent its ore directly to home planet and had no sales except to the home company. Yet the publication was sent routinely to all minesites through the galaxies, and Terl had fished this latest copy out of the incoming dispatch box.

  So many credits for this metal and so many credits for another. Such and such credits for unsmelted ore of what percent. It was very dull. But Terl laboriously went through it, hopeful of some clue.

  From time to time he watched his live screens, keeping check on the animal. The button camera around its neck was working well, and in the vicinity of the cage and nearby plateau he had a broader view. It was a test to see whether the animal really was going to behave. The control box that monitored the cameras lay handy on Terl's littered desk.

  The animal so far had been very well behaved. Terl was struck by its orderly sense of priorities.

  It had somehow managed to turn the wounded horse over and get the packs off it. It had gotten some pitch from a tree and sealed the wound. It must have been effective, for the horse was now standing on shaky legs, a bit dazed but munching at the tall grass.