The Hive

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The Hive Page 30

by Orson Scott Card


  “Because of the state of the war?”

  “Because of a lot of things,” said Rivera. “The fact that we’re losing is a big part of it, but it’s also the age-old problem between leaders and the armies they control. The military doesn’t mind being told to go to war by their commander in chief, but they don’t like being told how to go to war. Their attitude is: ‘Give us the go order, and then get out of the way and let us do our job.’ But that’s not Ukko Jukes’s style.”

  “You’re making a huge supposition on circumstantial facts,” said Victor. “Maybe the Vandalorum was simply the ship in the best position to pick me up.”

  “We were,” said Rivera. “But only because we were forced to be there to get you. Most of the ships out here could have done it. The Vandalorum got the assignment the same time you got yours, eight months ago.”

  “But why would the Hegemon bring me here?”

  “My guess? Because you’re the only person in this fleet moving toward the motherships who has ever been inside a large Formic vessel. You’ve seen the enemy up close. You’ve interacted with their tech. You’ve maneuvered through the tunnel systems on their ships and dug through their asteroids. Maybe by virtue of your experience the Hegemon trusts you more than he trusts his own commanders.”

  “But why?” said Victor.

  “For the same reason guys like Captain Hoebeck don’t trust you. You’re not military. You don’t have an agenda or a career to protect. You only care about the mission at hand. And you have an excellent track record when it comes to these kinds of missions.”

  “It’s not a track record. I just happened to be the person in the right place at the right time.”

  “That’s not true,” said Rivera. “In every circumstance, you learned information at the same time as a lot of other people. But you were the one who did something about it. You acted. You put yourself in the right place at the right time and did what needed to be done. Fluke coincidence or luck or whatever had nothing to do with it. And you didn’t concern yourself with pleasing superiors and getting a commendation while doing it.”

  “You’re describing every rank-and-file member of the military,” said Victor. “Marines get things done. Marines go where they need to go.”

  “Of course,” said Rivera. “But always at the mercy of their commanding officer. They can’t go rogue. They have to follow the chain of command. That’s the order of things. And when you have intelligent, noncareerist commanders, the chain of command works. But when you don’t have excellent commanders then you’re inefficient, poorly managed, and destined to fail. No one knows that better than Ukko Jukes because he sees the Fleet as a whole with the eyes of a businessman and a manufacturer. He understands models of efficiency. That’s his expertise. If something is mucking up the system or slowing down the assembly line, you remove it. And right now he sees a lot of poor commanders, and it terrifies him. So what does he do? He calls upon someone who he knows will get things done despite the obstacles the Fleet creates. And it’s a person unhindered by loyalty to any one side in the military. You’re not American or Armenian or Pakistani or whatever. You don’t have a national agenda, or a personal one. You simply do what needs to be done.”

  “I’m not some secret weapon of the Hegemon,” said Victor. “I barely know the guy.”

  “You don’t have to know him,” said Rivera. “You don’t even have to communicate with him. He just has to drop you into the right situation, and he knows you’ll get things done. In fact, maybe he worries that communicating with him, or taking specific direction from him, might even cripple you out here because your Fleet commanders will then be all the more resentful of you and hinder you at every turn out of spite.”

  “This is all speculation,” said Victor. “And even if this theory of yours is right, my situation is different now. Because now I’m in the system. I’m beholden to a CO like everyone else.”

  “Then he expects you to find a way to get things done within the chain of command.”

  “First you tell me not to barge into the helm and demand to speak to the captain, and now you’re telling me I should.”

  “I don’t know what the approach is,” said Rivera. “I only know that doing nothing isn’t an option, and everything I’ve tried so far hasn’t worked. So you tell me, now what?”

  Victor unstrapped himself from the seat and drifted upward. “Where’s this door to Deck Three?”

  Ten minutes later Victor and Lieutenant Rivera approached a marine standing guard at the door to Deck Three.

  “Excuse me, Corporal,” said Victor. “Would you kindly call the helm and inform them that Victor Delgado requests a few minutes of the captain’s time regarding a matter of grave importance?”

  “That’s your big plan?” said Rivera.

  “Sometimes the direct approach is the best approach,” said Victor. “Also, I’m testing my own theory.”

  “Shouldn’t you at least tell the helm what this matter of grave importance is?” said Rivera.

  Victor shook his head. “If I tell them there’s a giant invisible Formic fortress out near Saturn, they’ll think I’m high on hallucinogenic drugs that my nurse gave me.”

  “Good point,” said Rivera. “Better keep it vague. Do as he says, Corporal.”

  The marine relayed the vague message, and the response came back almost immediately. “My apologies,” said the marine. “I’m to inform you both that the captain is not to be disturbed for the duration of our flight.”

  “Did this denial come directly from the captain?” Victor asked.

  “The message came from the second assistant helm officer,” said the marine.

  “The second assistant,” said Victor. “Walking up the chain of command, how many people are between the second assistant helm officer and Captain Hoebeck, would you say?”

  The marine looked to Rivera, the highest ranked among them, and gave his answer. “I’m not certain, ma’am. Maybe four or five?”

  “Thank you, Corporal,” said Rivera.

  Victor stepped away a few paces down the corridor, out of earshot, and Rivera followed. “Welcome to chain of command,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Now what?”

  “What’s a great honor given to a commander?” asked Victor. “A medal or award for meritorious service? Think big.”

  “The highest medal is the Hegemony Congressional Medal of Honor,” said Rivera. “Awarded for valorous actions in direct contact with the enemy. Why?”

  “That doesn’t work,” said Victor. “What’s an award that you might give someone for an act that doesn’t involve enemy contact?”

  “If you’re trying to dangle a carrot in front of Captain Hoebeck,” said Lieutenant Rivera, “it would be the IF Commendation Medal. He may already have one of those, but if you’re Hoebeck, you can’t have too many ribbons on your jacket.”

  “Then we’ll call the helm again and inform them that I wish to take a photo with the captain as part of the application I am submitting for the captain to be considered for the IF Commendation Medal for his heroic rescue of me and my zipship.”

  “That’s not how it works,” said Rivera, “having you submit the application, I mean. A commendation would come from Hoebeck’s superiors.”

  “I’m new to the IF,” said Victor. “I don’t know the protocol. You explained to me the process, but I’m determined to inform Hoebeck’s superiors of his actions as he is too humble to do so himself. Hoebeck will be all too happy to tell me who to contact to get it done.”

  “That isn’t going to work,” said Rivera. “Hoebeck is difficult, but he isn’t that vain.”

  The captain saw them immediately.

  An aide came to escort them, and a minute later, they were all posing for a photo in front of the holotable at the helm. Hoebeck was in his early fifties, bald, and with a touch of belly fat. He was flanked by his aides and helm officers, with Victor at his immediate right giving a thumbs-up as Lieutenant Rivera snapped the photo with her table
t.

  “There you are, young man,” said Hoebeck, patting Victor on the shoulder. “You have your photo. If we survive this assault, the world might actually see it.”

  One of Hoebeck’s lieutenants leaned in and said, “It was a heroic act, sir. You certainly deserve a commendation of the highest order for that rescue. Well done.”

  Victor exhibited great restraint by not rolling his eyes.

  Hoebeck grinned at the praise. “Yes, well, all of us deserve the credit. That is the value of having a properly trained crew. Every man can be a hero.”

  “You’ll be a hero ten times over if you give me five minutes of your time,” said Victor. “It’s concerning a matter of utmost importance to the survival of the Fleet.”

  There was an awkward pause as everyone realized that Victor had come in under false pretenses. The aides and lieutenants looked warily to Captain Hoebeck, unsure how he’d respond. “Is that so?” said Hoebeck finally, without enthusiasm. “Well, if you have something of importance for the Fleet, I’d be wrong not to hear it, wouldn’t I?” He gestured to his left. “Please. My office.”

  The helm officers glared at Victor as he and Lieutenant Rivera followed Hoebeck into his office, a small room adjacent to the helm with a holotable and a view of space projected on one wall. The suck-up lieutenant came in as well and stood off to the side.

  Captain Hoebeck gestured to him. “This is my aide. First Lieutenant Al-Baradouni, from Yemen.”

  Al-Baradouni nodded an acknowledgment to Victor and Rivera.

  Captain Hoebeck initiated his magnets on his back and rear and sat in his office chair. “I’m listening,” he said, with a slight air of annoyance.

  “Sir,” said Victor, “I have reason to believe that the Formics are building a superstructure beyond the outer rim of the Belt and that they have the capability to conceal the structure from traditional scopes and infrared. Considering the number of asteroids the Formics have gathered at this place and the lengths they have gone to to hide them from the Fleet, I believe this superstructure could possibly represent a significant Formic target. Perhaps even the primary Formic target.”

  “And what primary target is that?” said Captain Hoebeck, raising an eyebrow.

  “Sir, the Fleet may have discarded the idea of a Hive Queen, but there must be some command structure to their army. Some leadership. The idea of a collective hive mind gets no serious traction among formicologists.”

  Captain Hoebeck waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not interested in litigating theories on Formic command, Ensign Delgado. And frankly I don’t care if you believe in the Hive Queen or the Formic General or some hokey Formic collective brain mumbo jumbo. I operate on corroborated facts. Hard evidence. Intelligence. And judging by your preface, you don’t have facts. You used words like ‘I believe’ and ‘could possibly’ and ‘perhaps,’ which leads me to believe that you’ve got a whole lot of nothing that you’re trying to make into a whole lot of something.”

  “I have facts,” said Victor, “and I think you’ll agree they are facts worthy of investigation, if you’ll allow me to explain.”

  Hoebeck folded his arms and frowned but didn’t object.

  Victor placed the data cube in the holotable. A starmap appeared, showing a segment of the Asteroid Belt, with nine asteroids marked with small red flags. “I was in that zipship for nearly eight months,” said Victor. “Every day I monitored and tracked asteroids seized by the Formics.”

  “The IF tracks asteroids as well,” said Hoebeck. “We probably have an army of people on the task. You think you saw something they didn’t?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” said Victor. “I don’t know what they’ve seen and reported.”

  “So you could be wasting my time?” said Captain Hoebeck.

  “It’s possible, yes,” said Victor. “In fact, that’s my hope. I would sleep much better knowing that the IF had already thoroughly investigated these. But I highly doubt that’s the case for a number of reasons. My scans picked up what they did because of my position high above the ecliptic, which afforded me an unobstructed view of vast areas of the system at once. Even this ship and others in this fleet don’t have that advantage because of their direction of flight.”

  Captain Hoebeck considered in silence, then waved a hand for Victor to continue.

  Victor pointed to one of the asteroids in the animation. “What first caught my eye, sir, was that the Formics seized this asteroid here, which is strange because it’s a snowball.”

  “Snowball?”

  “That’s a term we asteroid miners use, sir. It means a rock that’s mostly ice and frozen ammonia, mixed with gravel and small segments of rock. We usually avoid them because they’re fragile and are dangerous to mine. The instant you start drilling into them, they shatter. A junk rock. Not worth flying to and digging.”

  “Okay. It’s a snowball. So what?”

  “Well, sir, we haven’t seen Formics seize snowballs before. We’ve only seen them seize dense rocky asteroids, which they use to build their warships.”

  “I know what the Formics do with asteroids, Delgado. What’s your point?”

  “My point, sir, is that the Formics have no use for a snowball that we know of. They can’t build a warship inside one. The asteroid would break apart the instant they started digging through it.”

  “Maybe they don’t grab snowballs to build warships,” said Hoebeck. “Maybe they grab them for the same reason we do. For the ice.”

  “That was my thinking as well, sir. Ice gives them oxygen for their ships and fuel for their thrusters. And with the ammonia they could make fertilizer for their gardens, which also produce oxygen on their ships. Ice would be a valuable resource. But here’s where it gets weird. Sixty-seven days after this snowball deviated and assumed a new trajectory it disappeared from my scopes.”

  “They blew it up,” said Hoebeck. “This happens all the time. The Formics blow the asteroids, and the resultant fragments are too small to be seen by our scans. This is nothing new.”

  “Sometimes the debris is too small for our scans, yes,” said Victor. “But not always. On the larger rocks, we usually detect a debris field whenever an asteroid is destroyed. Also, keep in mind why the Formics blow the asteroids. They’re building a warship inside it. The explosion breaks apart the asteroid to release the ship. Except in this case, the asteroid in question is a snowball. There is no warship to release. Nor has the asteroid reached any destination for ice processing. So why would they blow it up?”

  Hoebeck shrugged. “Logical answer is they didn’t blow it up. It shattered on its own as they were moving it. You said these asteroids were fragile. The Formics move these suckers by attaching a mini-thruster to the rock. The G-forces from the thruster became too great, the ice cracked, the whole thing shattered. End of story. Your presentation is going nowhere.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Victor. “That was also my conclusion. This asteroid appeared to be a dead end. But now I had some useful information. I knew the direction the asteroid was headed before it vanished. I had its new trajectory. And from that I could possibly determine where the ice rock was being taken for processing.”

  Victor made a series of finger gestures in the hologram, and a dotted red line extended from the asteroid and moved from its original position in the outer rim to just beyond the Belt.

  “What I found,” said Victor, “is that the snowball was basically going nowhere. There is no Formic structure in that direction that we know of.”

  “Another dead end,” said Hoebeck. “I hope you actually have a point to all of this.”

  “I’ll spare you the story of each of these other individual asteroids that I’ve flagged,” said Victor. “Suffice it to say, each was seized by the Formics, each left its traditional trajectory, and each deviated toward the same point in space out beyond the outer rim.”

  Victor made another hand gesture, and dotted red lines from each of the remaining flagged asteroids arced upward and coalesced
on the same point outside the Belt.

  “Again,” said Hoebeck. “None of this is new. The Formics have been doing this for the better part of a year. They move asteroids all over the place. Sometimes they build a ship inside them. Sometimes they move asteroids just to make us chase them down. Decoys. Deception. Sometimes they cluster the asteroids together and begin building a structure, which we reach and promptly destroy. You’re giving me old news.”

  Victor gestured to the red lines and flags. “These asteroids are different. Unlike all the decoys and all the rocky asteroids we’ve seen captured and moved, these asteroids here all disappeared from view at roughly the same time. Right when the snowball did. From within sixty to ninety days after the asteroids altered course, they vanished. Stranger still, sometimes that vanishing took three days as the asteroid’s albedo slowly dimmed. Also, each of these asteroids was moving at a unique velocity. When you take into consideration their distance from this destination point, you realize that they’re all arriving at this rendezvous point out beyond the Belt at roughly the same time. Now, you can argue that this is simply another Formic deception, that they seized these asteroids and then blew them all up at once because they thought we were tracking them. But in each case, sir, my scans found no debris fields. Nothing. These asteroids literally vanished without a trace. And some of them are three to five kilometers across, sir. With an asteroid that big, with that much rock, we would absolutely see a debris field. And yet with all nine of them we see nothing whatsoever. Which leads me to believe that the Formics didn’t blow them up, sir. They made them invisible.”

  Captain Hoebeck, to Victor’s surprise, did not laugh. Instead he glanced at First Lieutenant Al-Baradouni.

  Victor read the brief look between them. “I take it from your lack of surprise that you’ve seen the Formics make an asteroid invisible before.”

 

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