“Get them out before they bleed over everything,” said Li.
The three Chinese soldiers set their rifles aside. One of them slid open the side door, and a burst of cold air filled the cargo hold. The gunfire was louder now. Bingwen could see nothing but forest outside, but there were flashes of light from the gunfire ahead. The three soldiers dragged the dead men to the door and dumped them outside onto the gravel. It took two of them working together to move Shihong.
Lieutenant Li tapped something into his wrist pad. “Very clever of you, Bingwen. Distracting them like that, winning their trust. That made this much easier.”
Bingwen stared down at the pool of blood by the pallet. It was thick and black in the semidarkness.
All was quiet outside now. The four soldier hostages appeared at the door and climbed inside, each carrying a small pistol. More soldiers followed them in, wearing body armor and carrying heavy rifles.
Li faced Bingwen “You hate me. But governments cannot tolerate banditry. Ever. We can’t negotiate with bandits because it never ends. More people turn to banditry because it pays. Still, we did their village a service. Now they have thirty fewer mouths to feed. We may have just saved the lives of the rest of the villagers.”
Bingwen’s eyes were vacant, his arms slack at his side. He stared at the blood.
“And maybe we didn’t,” said Li. “But I saved the rations my soldiers need. I fed you. I kept you alive. Was I wrong?”
“There is no right and wrong,” said Bingwen. “You decided. You acted. You won. Now we clear the track and get the train moving again.”
Li nodded and holstered his weapon. “I see that you understand war.”
What I understand is you, thought Bingwen. Power without honor, order without civilization.
He was not going to run away, he decided. He would go to this school. He would become a soldier. But he would not become the monster of war they hoped to make him. He would not become Lieutenant Li. He would become what the world needed. A Mazer Rackham. Decisive, yet kind. Lethal, yet gentle. Otherwise, the Lis of the world would run the military, and it would make no difference if we won or lost this war.
CHAPTER 21
Strike Team
When the MOPs’ shuttle arrived on Luna, they all came down the exit tube with such giant, clumsy, bumbling steps, bouncing off the walls and each other, laughing like a bunch of schoolchildren, that Victor was certain the whole operation was doomed to failure.
“These are our super soldiers?” he whispered to Lem. The two of them were standing in the terminal, waiting to greet the arrivals.
“They’re not used to Luna’s gravity,” said Lem. “Everyone’s like this their first time. They’ll adapt.”
Two MOPs collided at the end of the tube and fell into the terminal on top of each other. This seemed like an invitation to the others to add to the dog pile, and soon there was a mountain of flailing arms and legs in puffy spacesuits, amid laughter and curses and a good deal of shoving.
“This isn’t instilling in me much confidence,” Victor said to Lem.
Three more soldiers appeared in the tube, bringing up the rear. They moved with greater caution, taking measured steps. Victor recognized their faces through their visors: Wit O’Toole, Mazer Rackham, and Shenzu. By the time they reached the terminal, the other MOPs were on their feet and steadying each other.
Wit shook hands with Lem and Victor. “So much for making a good first impression.”
“You made your first impression long ago, Captain O’Toole,” said Lem. “Welcome to Luna.”
There were introductions all around. Victor had already learned their names and faces from their dossiers, but he made a show of learning them now.
“Space born, eh?” said Cocktail. “We must look like a pack of uncoordinated imbeciles to you.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” said Victor. “Right now your mind is accustomed to your body moving in a certain way. The gravity here throws that out of alignment. Once we get in zero-G, you’ll find it much easier.”
They loaded into a large skimmer and left the gate, heading back toward the warehouse.
“There are a few legal matters we must attend to before leaving Luna,” said Lem. “I apologize in advance. Our corporate attorneys want to ensure that we don’t get sued in the event of an injury or your demise. You’ll need to sign a few things.”
“‘Your demise,’” repeated Bungy. “I love lawyer-speak. ‘Your demise.’ It’s so polite. In reality it means an alien gutted you and melted your face with toxic goo, but ‘demise’ is so much more delicate.”
“What’s the difference between a porcupine and two lawyers in a sports car?” asked ZZ. After a silence he said, “The porcupine has the pricks on the outside.”
The men chuckled. Victor didn’t get it. Apparently prick had multiple meanings.
“What’s the difference between a catfish and a lawyer?” asked Cocktail. “One is a bottom-dwelling, garbage-eating scavenger. The other is a fish.”
The men laughed. They were not at all what Victor had expected. He had envisioned gruff men with steely eyes and serious dispositions, lethal killers ready to snap a neck at a moment’s notice. But these men were like his uncles and his father: easygoing, relaxed, a family. To Victor’s surprise, this didn’t unsettle him. If anything it put his mind at ease. He had worried that soldiers would scoff at his direction and dismiss him as so many others had done. But these men, like the men of home, seemed like the type who would listen to any idea, regardless of where it came from.
“What happens after we appease the lawyers?” asked Wit.
The men fell silent. It was down to business now. All eyes were on Lem.
“We’ll leave Luna for a cargo freighter called the Valas,” said Lem. “It’s positioned out in space just beyond Luna’s gravity well. It’s one of the largest vessels this company has ever built and it will serve as our base of operations. All of our equipment and support team are already there. We’ll stay on the Valas for a few days as you learn to move in zero-G. Victor will be your teacher. You’ll have very specific duties once you’re inside the Formic ship, and you’ll train for those as well.”
“What duties?” said Wit. “We’ve chased your dangling carrot, Lem. We’re here. Now tell us how we’re going to destroy the ship.”
“By being plumbers, Captain O’Toole.”
“I beg your pardon.”
Lem laughed. “Plumbers, Captain. You know, wrenches, elbow grease, exorbitantly high hourly rates. You need not show your butt crack when you bend over, however. Victor will explain everything shortly.”
They docked at the warehouse. Ramdakan was waiting inside with a team of lawyers. Tables had been set up. Documents were presented and signed. It was all very quick and orderly, but it dampened the mood considerably. The MOPs never questioned anyone. They read their documents and signed. When it was done, Ramdakan thanked them, wished them luck, gathered his crew, and left.
“It’s ironic,” said Deen. “Usually lawyers pounce on you after you’ve destroyed something.”
Lem then introduced the MOPs to the various warehouse workers who had come out to meet them and wish them well. The MOPs were kind and gracious. They went around the room thanking everyone for their hard work and contributions. The more Victor watched them, the more convinced he became that Lem had chosen well. They were obviously fine soldiers—their accomplishments in the field were evidence of that. Yet they were also decent human beings, which was just as important, if not more so.
Simona took vids of everything with her holopad.
“Are you recording that for PR or for you?” Lem asked her.
“For you,” she said. “You’ll want to show your grandkids someday.”
Ukko Jukes arrived minutes later, surprising everyone. He went around the room, shaking hands like a politician up for reelection. Victor could tell Lem was annoyed, though Lem was doing his best not to show it. Simona continued with the vid r
ecording.
Victor wanted to approach Ukko and put a boot between his legs. Hello, Mr. Jukes. This is for nearly killing Imala with the drones. Kapow! But he kept quiet and stayed in the back of the room as far from Ukko as possible.
When Ukko was done making the rounds, he spoke loud enough for all to hear. “When I learned that my son was planning this mission, I’ve never felt prouder as a parent.” He paused as if overcome with emotion.
Victor rolled his eyes. Was anyone believing this for an instant? He looked around the room. Everyone was attentive except for Lem, who was picking a piece of invisible lint off his jacket.
“I’m proud that Juke Limited could help in some way,” said Ukko. “If there is anything you men need, just say so, and I will see to it personally.” He smiled warmly. Then he extended his hands to the side. “I know all of us come from different countries and cultures, but let us link hands for a moment. All of us. Don’t be shy. That’s it. Everyone take the hand of the person to your right and left. You too, son. You’re the leader here. We need you most of all. That’s it. Now I want each of you to look around this circle. Look at the faces before you. This is what Earth can be. All of us joined together in purpose, working as one against a common enemy. This is true strength. The talents and skills of all. United.”
Ukko scanned the crowd, meeting their eyes. “Now, let us take a moment of silence. And in that silence, pray to whatever god you have. Pray that those who are about to embark on this dangerous effort will return to us whole and sound. Pray for our brothers and sisters in China, and for the soldiers there, too, and their families and loved ones. And most of all, pray that Earth will be ours again, a stronger Earth, a better Earth, an Earth that will never shake again at such evil.”
Ukko bowed his head. Everyone in the circle did the same except for Lem, who stared straight ahead at his father, saying his own silent prayer, perhaps.
After a full minute, Ukko lifted his head and thanked them again. Then as quickly as he had come, he waved and departed.
Lem took control of the scene again, and ten minutes later he, Victor, and all the MOPs were loaded into the shuttle and lifting away from Luna.
They docked with the Valas, and everyone undid their harnesses and floated through the hatch. Imala and Dr. Benyawe were there to greet them, having come up earlier. More introductions were made; then they all moved to the helm where the holotable had been prepped. Lem instructed everyone to anchor their feet to the hooks in the floor around the table, and then he turned the time over to Victor.
The Formic ship appeared in the holofield. Victor used his stylus to rotate it 360 degrees so that everyone could see it from all angles. “This ship is still largely a mystery.” He pointed to the crown of tubular rods encircling the point of the teardrop. “This apparatus here, for example. We have no idea what this is. Many suspect that it’s field-generation equipment, and I tend to agree with them. But how the Formic shields work is still a giant unknown. They block tiny space particles as the ship moves through deep space, and they deflect any projectile fired at the ship. Yet I was able to approach and enter the ship without any resistance. Why? Does the shield require an enormous amount of energy to maintain and thus is only turned on when the Formics are in flight or when they detect a threat? We don’t know. All we do know is that this type of tech is priceless.” He zoomed in on the field generators. “Humans don’t know how to do this. Yet field generation is critical if ever we want to attempt interstellar flight.”
He zoomed in to the rear of the ship. “And this is the propulsion system. It’s powerful enough to move a ship of this mass up to a significant fraction of the speed of light. We’re nowhere close to tech like that.”
He zoomed back out. “And what about Formic communications? How does one ship speak to another? We have no idea. I didn’t find anything in the ship to answer that question, but the answer must be there somewhere. And whatever it is, it has the potential to revolutionize our own communication infrastructure, both out here in space and down on Earth. I could go on. My point is, there are likely hundreds, if not thousands of innovations inside this ship far beyond anything we’ve developed or ever could develop. It is a treasure trove of tech that could open new doors and possibilities for all of us. I’m not exaggerating when I say this ship could change the world.”
“So this is about seizing tech?” said Shenzu. “I thought we were fighting a war here.”
“We are,” said Victor. “But this is also about making Earth stronger. We can’t simply blow the ship to smithereens.”
“Why not?” said Shenzu. “That would certainly swing the war in our favor. Who cares if we get a shield generator? I’m more worried about ending this.”
“But that’s exactly Victor’s point,” said Mazer. “Destroying the ship would not be the end. Winning this war may not be the end. This ship came from somewhere. There are more Formics out there. And the reason why they have beat us so far is because their tech is so superior. But if we can learn their tech and reverse engineer it, we can better protect ourselves from future attacks. We would level the playing field. This isn’t about creating a tech boom on Earth, it’s about winning this war and any future war. It’s about strengthening ourselves militarily. If we blow that ship up, we’ll have destroyed our best chance at defeating the Formics next time.”
“Mazer’s right,” said Wit. “And even if the Formics never bother us again, there’s a chance something else will come along. Something worse. We should always learn everything we can from the enemy and use that to better defend ourselves.”
“So we don’t blow it up,” said Shenzu. “Agreed. But what is the plan? We still have a war to end.”
“We kill all the Formics on board,” said Mazer. “Then we cripple the ship so it can’t go anywhere.”
“Mazer’s right,” said Victor. “We don’t want the ship running back to wherever it came from and rallying reinforcements. Our primary mission is to make sure it has flown its final flight.”
“How?” said Wit.
Victor tapped the ship with his stylus and two dozen cannons appeared on the surface. “The ship has two main defenses. The first is the cannons. Each of them is stored in a recessed hole that closes at the top when not in use. When the ship is threatened, the cannons emerge, unfold, and fire at whatever is approaching the ship. When they’re done, they fold back inside, and the aperture over the hole seals shut again. The good news is, many of the cannons were destroyed by Ukko Jukes’s drones. So much of the work has already been done. The other good news is, taking out the others will be easy.”
He moved to the side and called up another model in the holofield—this one of a large closed aperture. “We know precisely where all of these cannons are located. To take them out of commission, all we need to do is weld the aperture shut so it can’t open.”
He picked up a sheet of steel that was attached to the side of the table. It was roughly two meters long and one half meter wide. “Each of your cocoons has been designed to carry eight sheets of steel this size. That’s more than you’ll need, but you’ll be carrying extras in case something happens to any one of you en route. To disable the cannons, you and a partner will weld three sheets of steel atop each cannon aperture.”
Three sheets of steel appeared atop the closed aperture in the holofield. They were positioned a short distance away from each other near the center and formed a triangular shape. “As you can see, each sheet of steel lies across at least two blades of the aperture, locking it closed. This triangular shape is the strongest. You and your partner will be assigned two cannons. This is your welding tool.” He held up the small, handheld device. “You’ll lock down each sheet of steel with magnets, then you’ll wipe the welder along the edge of the steel. It will melt easily. Apply light pressure and you’ll push the melted steel onto the Formic surface. It will feel like spreading icing on a cake. And that’s it. Locked with the steel, the apertures can’t open. Cannons are inoperative.”
“Easy enough,” said Cocktail.
“The next part isn’t so easy,” said Victor. He moved back to the holo of the ship and tapped it with his stylus. The hull vanished, revealing the network of pipes beneath the surface. They numbered in the hundreds, with all of them running parallel to each other from front to back.
“This looks like the skeleton of the ship,” said Victor. “Like framing rods. But these lines are actually pipes filled with laserized gamma plasma. Every few meters along these pipes, there are T-shaped nozzles.”
He tapped with the stylus again, and hundreds of dots appeared along the pipes. Then he zoomed forward to one of the dots, revealing it to be a nozzle.
“Each of these nozzles is connected to an aperture on the surface of the ship. These are small apertures, no bigger than a dinner plate. When attacked, the Formics open the apertures and nozzles and fire a beam of gamma plasma from the pipes.”
A brief animation played, showing what Victor described.
“Our job,” said Victor, “is to access the pipes from inside the ship. Once we’re done disabling the cannons, we’ll gather here at this destroyed cannon. This is where I entered the ship. The hole inside is already cut and ready. There’s a shaft there that leads directly to the cargo bay. It’s a tight squeeze, but we’ll likely go undetected.” He zoomed forward into the ship, coming to rest in the cargo bay. “The pipes are behind the inner wall, which is composed of dense metal plates. We’ll first cut away a large section of plates and expose the pipes underneath. I’d suggest we remove at least forty square meters of plates.”
Victor drew a square on the inner wall.
“That’s huge,” said Deen. “That’s almost half the size of an American football field.”
“For us that’s big, yes,” said Victor. “But remember, this is a big ship.” He zoomed back out to see the ship as a whole. Forty square meters suddenly looked demonstrably smaller.
“Removing these plates will be tricky,” said Victor. “We have to do so without damaging the pipes underneath. If we sever one, we’ll unleash gamma plasma inside the cargo bay and kill us all.”
Earth Awakens (The First Formic War) Page 33