“At ease, everyone,” said Li. “You’ve been crammed in a tiny spacecraft for months. No need to make yourselves stiffer than you already are.”
Bingwen relaxed, smiled good-naturedly at Colonel Dietrich, and saluted. “Colonel, it’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
Colonel Dietrich’s expression stayed grim. “How old are you, boy?”
“Thirteen, sir.”
“You don’t look a day over ten.”
Bingwen shrugged. “I’m small for my age, sir. Perhaps when I’m old, I’ll appreciate this youthful appearance. At the moment, it’s rather annoying.”
“Thirteen-year-olds shouldn’t wear the blue,” said Colonel Dietrich. “This is where Colonel Li and I strongly disagree.”
“You’re not alone in your position, sir,” said Bingwen. “Many people object to military academies.”
“You’re not a military academy,” said Dietrich. “Military academies are quaint brick campuses in the Virginia mountains for the rebellious sons of U.S. senators. You’re nothing more than a thinly veiled attempt by the Chinese to disrupt IF command and elevate your own countrymen into positions of authority, likely at the expense of commanders like myself from Europe. Were it up to me, you would get right back on that selenop and return to China.”
Bingwen maintained a pleasant expression. “I had heard that you were a man who spoke his mind, sir. Now I see that it’s true.”
“Whatever secret operations you’ve conducted for Colonel Li in the past end here,” said Dietrich. “This facility is under my supervision. Which means anyone here is in my chain of command. I will not tolerate clandestine activity, particularly any activity that seeks to question or undermine the authority of the Fleet. Are we clear?”
“Clear, sir,” said Mazer.
Colonel Dietrich’s gaze shifted to Mazer. “Captain Rackham, you’re several months late to your post. You were ordered to arrive at GravCamp with the transport, and you failed to do so. If you’ll kindly give me a full accounting of what you’ve been doing over the past four months, I might find it in my heart not to court-martial you for dereliction of duty.”
“With all due respect, Colonel Dietrich,” said Li, “as you and I have previously discussed, Captain Rackham was under orders from Captain De Meyer to conduct a secret operation—”
“De Meyer, my ass,” interrupted Dietrich. “He was out there under your orders, Li. Under Chinese orders. Doing what, I’d like to know.” He turned back to Mazer. “You’re under orders to explain yourself, Captain.”
“No, you’re not under orders,” said Colonel Li, “as you are only obligated to comply with lawful orders, as Colonel Dietrich well knows.”
“What were you doing out there, Captain?” demanded Colonel Dietrich. “You’ll answer me or you’ll answer to a tribunal of my creation. I’m not opening my arms to some Chinese operative unless I know what the hell is going on. You were sent to a ship. I know that much. What did you find? Why did you go?”
“Bingwen and Nak,” said Colonel Li. “You are dismissed. Report to your barracks. Follow the green-yellow lines on the wall.”
“They’re not dismissed,” said Colonel Dietrich. “I’m not done with them.”
“You are, Colonel,” said Li. “Now and always. These young men are in my chain of command, not yours. And if you continue to embarrass yourself, the only demands being made by a senior officer will be Admiral Muffanosa demanding that you remove yourself from your post.”
Colonel Dietrich kept his eyes locked on Mazer. “I’m waiting for an answer, soldier.”
“To your barracks,” Li barked to Bingwen and Nak.
Bingwen reluctantly moved out of the airlock, with Nak at his heels. When they were in the corridor and out of earshot, Bingwen said, “This is a problem.”
“Problem?” said Nak. “This is a hurricane. We’ve got two psycho colonels locked in all-out nuclear war vying for control of us in some ridiculous power play. I’m half tempted to go back to the Kandahar.”
They hurried to the barracks, where they found the rest of Rat Army.
“You two should have stayed in your selenop and made for the hills,” said Chati. “GravCamp is more like GravHell.”
“Dietrich is an obstructionist,” said Jianjun. “He tries to block our access to everything. We wanted to use the Battle Room during the hours when it wasn’t already scheduled for adult training sessions, but Dietrich denied us access, claiming that the adult marine trainees needed it then for their private practice sessions.”
“He’s convinced we’re part of some secret Chinese conspiracy to fill the Fleet with Chinese commanders,” said Micho.
“Well, we all are Chinese,” said Nak. “You can’t blame the man for jumping to conclusions.”
“We’re an experiment,” said Chati. “If we do well, the Fleet will obviously get boys and girls from other countries.”
“How do you know?” said Nak. “Because Colonel Li told us? When has he ever been forthright with us?”
“You’re taking Dietrich’s side here?” said Chati.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” said Nak. “Except ours. Bingwen and I have learned that there’s more to Colonel Li than he lets on. He’s in intelligence, connected with some top brass at CentCom, most likely. This op he sent us on is now classified. We’re not even allowed to talk about it.”
“Why?” said Chati. “What did you see?”
“We’re not allowed to talk about it,” said Nak. “Did you not catch that part?”
“Not even with us?” said Jianjun.
“The truth is,” said Bingwen, “we don’t know anything except what all of us knew before Nak and I left the transport. An asteroid disappeared, and the Fleet wants to know why and how.”
“You didn’t find answers to those questions?” asked Jianjun.
“We don’t know,” said Bingwen. “And if we did find the answers, we can’t access them.”
“Now you’re being cryptic,” said Jianjun.
“We’re speaking honestly,” said Bingwen, “and saying all we can say. Maybe more than we should say. The point is, something is going on with asteroids beyond what we already knew. The Hive Queen is somehow making asteroids disappear without blowing them up. Or at least that’s the Fleet’s suspicion.”
“You can’t say Hive Queen anymore,” said Jianjun.
Bingwen wrinkled his brow. “What? Why not?”
“Because the dull bobs at CentCom have outlawed it,” said Jianjun.
He grabbed his tablet. “It was a memo straight from CentCom a few weeks ago,” said Jianjun. He read the text off the monitor. “‘Effective immediately, all commanders, instructors of new recruits, and other personnel will cease to discuss the Hive Queen or perpetuate the unproven theory that a single organism controls the Formic masses. This theory, because of its spectacular nature and due to the strong strategic desire to comprehend the enemy, gained acceptance among many within the Fleet without it first being vetted by CentCom or the Fleet’s scientific advisers. As a result, far-fetched speculation has been accepted as fact, and combat decisions and training practices have altered to accommodate an unproven hypothesis. Such deviations from established wartime practices and training regimes are now deemed reckless and unlawful and subject to military discipline and court-martial. Commanders must give, and soldiers must receive, clear orders based on proven, accurate intelligence. The unfounded theory of the Hive Queen, therefore, will no longer be permissible in private discourse or official Fleet communications. Instead, for all matters regarding Formic psychology, anatomy, or group dynamics, all personnel will use the information found in Formic Anatomical Considerations in Space and Warfare, 3rd Edition, International Fleet Press, sections 14, 15, 18, and 21.’ Signed, all the bozos at CentCom.”
Jianjun turned back to Bingwen and gave a helpless shrug.
Bingwen blinked. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“You see anybody laughing?” said Chati.
>
“We can’t mention the Hive Queen?” said Bingwen. “Are they out of their minds? Are the commanders at CentCom really this stupid?”
Jianjun motioned for Bingwen to keep his voice down. “Calling Fleet brass stupid in a voice loud enough to be heard all over the station probably isn’t wise. Especially in a prepubescent voice as high-pitched and recognizable as yours.”
“This says we’re not to discuss the Hive Queen,” said Bingwen. “That’s asinine. She’s the enemy. She’s the reason we’re having this war in the first place. Do you think Eisenhower forbade his subordinates from mentioning Hitler? I’m trying really hard to give the stupid idiots who wrote this memo the benefit of the doubt, but I’m failing miserably.”
“Your insistence on calling them stupid idiots was my first clue,” said Jianjun.
“This is insane, what are we doing about this?”
“What can we do?” said Chati. “You’re not going to change CentCom’s mind on this.”
A voice from the door interrupted them. “Bingwen. A word.”
It was Colonel Li.
Bingwen stepped out into the corridor. “I’ve just been informed that we can’t discuss the Hive Queen.”
“Follow me,” said Li.
Colonel Li led him through the space station to a small unadorned office near the Battle Room. Colonel Li sealed the door and then faced Bingwen from across a small holodesk. “The items.”
Bingwen produced the small container from his pocket and handed it over. Colonel Li opened it. The data cube, the wrist pad, the ankle tags.
“And there’s this,” said Bingwen, producing another data cube. “All our camera feeds, images, and a full written report.”
Colonel Li took it. “I trust this is your only copy?”
“Yes, sir. Mazer thought it best if I carried it all off the ship since he is under Colonel Dietrich’s chain of command. He worried the colonel would demand he hand it over.”
“His worries were well founded, considering that’s precisely what Colonel Dietrich did after you left the airlock.”
“Where’s Mazer now?”
“Confined to his quarters while Dietrich considers an appropriate punishment.”
“Dietrich can’t accuse him of dereliction of duty. That’s outrageous.”
“Don’t concern yourself with Captain Rackham. Leave that to me. You’re dismissed. If I have questions regarding your report, I’ll call for you.”
He took Bingwen’s data cube with the written report and slid it into his terminal. The files appeared above the holodesk. Li regarded Bingwen and frowned. “You’re still here.”
“Do you know what happened to the asteroid? The one that disappeared.”
“Do you honestly think I’m going to answer any questions regarding the operation or what is known or not known?”
“As a courtesy, you might,” said Bingwen. “For the people who nearly died bringing you that intel.”
“You did your job,” said Li. “That sense of satisfaction should be reward enough.”
“And what’s my job now?” said Bingwen. “We’ve come halfway across the system to a training facility that refuses to accommodate us. Let us examine the drone data. We can help.”
“You don’t have the necessary clearance.”
“And you do?”
“We’re done here,” said Li.
“If you let us examine the data, we can give you a thorough analysis that you can then take to your superiors. That will ensure that you get answers, and it will reflect well on your capabilities.”
Li smiled. “Bingwen, ever the salesman. I’ve already demonstrated my capabilities by acquiring the intel. For now, that will suffice. You’re not an analyst.”
“We’ve been intelligence analysts for months now. You’ve had us combing through service records and identifying ineffective commanders. I continued that study throughout my flight on the selenop. My conclusions are in a second report there on the cube. Perhaps that can help your superiors determine how qualified we are as analysts.”
Bingwen saluted and left.
It took him nearly half an hour to find Mazer’s quarters.
The room was miniscule, smaller even than the cockpit of the selenop. Mazer was at his terminal display, with a myriad of files open in front of him.
“So you go from one prison to another,” said Bingwen, taking in the room.
Mazer kept his eyes on his terminal display. “The selenop was more comfortable.”
“There’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear. I’m assuming you’re feverishly reading all the updates on the war since we’ve been gone. Have you read the memo on the Hive Queen?”
“It was the first one I opened,” said Mazer.
“Then why aren’t you as visibly bothered by it as I am? I want to punch somebody.”
Mazer faced him. “Take a breath and consider the source. The authors of that memo are powerful men seated around some table in a war room at CentCom, each of them so heavily decorated with service medals that they can barely stand upright, even in Luna’s decreased gravity. They come from every country that’s committed troops to the IF because no nation was willing to join the fight unless it had some guaranteed voice in the overall war strategy and thus a piece of the credit when we win. Which means that every commander seated at that table is in a constant state of fear. Not of the Formics, mind you. Not of losing the war. Not of standing at the bow of the ship as the human race sinks into extinction. No, their fear is a much more personal, immediate one.”
“The fear of being replaced,” said Bingwen.
“Correct,” said Mazer. “The fear of losing their status, position, and power. And since nothing says ‘unfit for command’ more than ignorance, no member of the war council wants to embrace a theory that might later be proven wrong. They’d look like fools.”
“If they bury a theory that is later proven true, then they also look like fools,” said Bingwen.
“Not necessarily,” said Mazer. “It’s more likely that they’ll look like cautious, rational thinkers because they’ll embrace the idea the instant it’s validated and claim they couldn’t do so prior to the intelligence. The safer course, politically speaking, is to do what they’re doing and wait until they have irrefutable evidence that the Hive Queen exists.”
“Do they not see the stupidity of that strategy?” said Bingwen. “We have evidence of a Hive Queen. Or at least evidence that suggests she exists. We can’t ignore that. And we have to make assumptions based on the evidence we have. If we do nothing until we have irrefutable evidence, then we miss countless opportunities to find her and take her out. What do they think, that we’ll luck out and hit her with a stray laser beam?”
“They’re not pretending to be deaf to evidence,” said Mazer. “They simply don’t have the evidence they think they need to substantiate the theory.”
“Of course they have enough evidence,” said Bingwen. “Look at tapes from the First Invasion. The Formics attacked as one, maneuvered as one, reacted as one. They were obviously responding to unseen instructions from somebody.”
“Maybe not,” said Mazer. “Maybe they have a hive mind, a collective conscious. Maybe there is no one entity at the head, but a billion entities thinking as one.”
“I killed one of the Hive Queen’s daughters,” said Bingwen. “I put a bolt through her head. The Formics around her went stupid for a moment as her mental control over them was broken. And then someone took control of them again. Who else but the Hive Queen?”
“CentCom would argue that you’re making huge leaps in logic here,” said Mazer. “They’d say you’re interpreting the events extremely narrowly in an attempt to substantiate your premise, when in reality, there are all kinds of scenarios that could explain what happened inside that asteroid.”
“Now it sounds like you’re taking their side,” said Bingwen.
“I’m playing the same game that Colonel Li plays,” said Mazer. “I’m encouraging y
ou to see every angle of this. That’s how we navigate the bureaucracy, Bingwen, by understanding how it operates and thinks.”
“It thinks like a bag of chimps,” said Bingwen.
“How can you be certain that the Formic you saw and killed was a daughter of the Hive Queen? What makes you so certain it was the Hive Queen’s offspring? How do you know it was even female? Maybe it was another male in a different stage of the Formic life cycle. Like a caterpillar before it becomes a butterfly. Anatomical differences are not necessarily evidence of a second gender. We’re not even certain that the Formics have multiple genders. They might be genderless. Or hermaphroditic, or have nine genders, for all we know. To assume that there are only two and that we can identify them without any concrete understanding of their anatomy and reproduction is speculation, not fact.”
“Are you saying you don’t believe in the theory of the Hive Queen anymore?”
“I’m saying they don’t believe anymore,” said Mazer. “And that’s what matters because it makes it extremely difficult for us to do our job.”
“So you do believe in the Hive Queen?”
“Until someone gives me a more logical explanation for what we’ve witnessed,” said Mazer. “Or until I see evidence to the contrary. I’m not certain, of course, just as you’re not. But I’d be an idiot if I abandoned the idea simply because CentCom told me to.”
Bingwen nodded, relieved. “For a second there, I thought you were losing your mind.”
“I lost that a long time ago. The question we have to ask ourselves now is what do we do about this memo?”
“We ignore it,” said Bingwen. “Obviously. We pretend it never reached us.”
Mazer shook his head. “Colonel Dietrich is a landmine waiting to be stepped on. He’d be delighted to have reason to indict us. We’re Li’s minions in his mind, and attacking us would be a swipe at Li. One hour ago I would have said a frivolous charge like this would never lead to a court-martial. Then I met Dietrich.”
“We can’t let the pursuit of the Hive Queen die because of blind stupidity.”
“Agreed,” said Mazer. “So how do we keep it alive?” He nodded toward his terminal display as if to prompt Bingwen. On screen was the forum Mazer had created on the IF intranet for the sharing of information among junior officers. A sort of digital think tank for tactics, strategies, maneuvers, and tech that might aid in the war effort.
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