Battlefield Earth (17 page)

     Terl was not at all surprised to see the smaller Chamco brother come nervously into his office.

“Terl,” he said hesitantly. “You know that good-luck credit note you lost to me. Well, I won’t be able to exchange-”

“What are you talking about?” said Terl.

“That good-luck credit note. You lost it to me and I promised to exchange it with you. I wanted to tell you-’

“Wait a minute,” said Terl. He fished out his wallet and looked into it. “Hey, you’re right. It isn’t here.”

“You lost it to me playing rings and I promised to exchange it back. Well-’

“Oh, yes. I have some dim recollection of it. That was quite a night. I was drunk, I guess. What about it?”

The smaller Chamco brother was nervous. But Terl seemed so open and pleasant he was emboldened. “Well, it’s gone. Stolen.”

“Stolen!” barked Terl.

“Yes. Actually the five hundred credits I won and a hundred sixty-five more besides. The good-luck bill was among-’

“Hey, now. Slow up. Stolen from where?”

“My room.”

Terl got out an official pad and began to make notes. “About what time?”

“Maybe yesterday. Last night I went to get some drinking money and I found-’

“Yesterday. Hmmm.” Terl sat back thoughtfully and gnawed at the top of his pen, “You know this isn’t the first theft reported from rooms. There were two others. But you’re in luck.”

“How so?”

“Well, you realize of course that I am responsible for security.” Terl made an elaborate demonstration of searching through piles of junk on his back bench. He turned to the smaller Chamco brother. “I shouldn’t let you in on this.” He looked thoughtful, then seemed to make a sudden decision. “I can trust you to keep this secret.”

“Absolutely,” said the smaller Chamco brother.

“Old Numph worries all the time about mutinies.”

“He should after that pay cut.” “And so- well, you understand, I wouldn’t do this on my own initiative-but it just so happened that your room was under surveillance yesterday- along with several other rooms, of course.”

This did not much shock the Chamco. The company often put work areas and quarters under surveillance.

Terl was fumbling through stacks of discs among the clutter. “I haven’t reviewed them. Actually, never intended to. Anything to keep management happy…ah, yes. Here it is. What time yesterday?”

“I don’t know.”

Terl put the disc on a player and turned on the screen. “You’re just lucky.”

“I should say so!”

“We’ll just scan through this disc. It was on for two or three days…I’ll give it a fast-forward.”

“Wait!” said the smaller Chamco brother. “Something flashed by.”

Terl obligingly reversed it. “Probably just you going in and out. I never review these things. It takes so long and there’s so much to do. Company regulations-”

“Wait! Look at that!”

Terl said. “Here?”

“Yes. Who’s that?”

Terl brightened up the screen.

“That’s Zzt!” cried the Chamco. “Look what he’s doing! Searching the room. Hah! He found it. Crap! Look at that! There’s your bill!”

“Incredible,” said Terl. “You sure are lucky there was a mutiny scare on.

Where you going?”

The Chamco had made an angry dive at the door, “I’m going down and beat the crap out of that low-’

“No, no,” said Terl. “That won’t get your money back.” And it wouldn’t either, for the money was nestling in a wad under Terl’s front belt. He had taken it from the room soon after the Chamco had hidden it. “This has become an official matter because it was detected on an official disc, during an official surveillance.”

Terl opened a book of regulations, Volume 989, to Article 34a-IV. He turned several pages and then spun the book about and showed the Chamco where it said “theft of personal monies from the quarters of employees by employees,” and “when duly evidenced” and “vaporization.”

The smaller Chamco read it. He was surprised. “I didn’t know it was that stiff.”

“Well, it is. And this is official, so don’t go rushing off to take the law into your own hands.”

Terl took a blast rifle out of the rack and handed it to the smaller Chamco. “You know how to use this. It ’s fully charged. You’re now a deputy.”

The smaller Chamco was impressed.

He stood there fumbling with the catches and made sure the safety was on. “You mean I can kill him?”

“We’ll see. This is official.”

Terl picked up the disc and a smaller portable screen and player and the book of regulations, then looked around to see whether he had everything. “Come along. Stay behind me and say nothing.”

They went to the quarters and found an attendant. Yes, the attendant had seen Zzt coming out of Chamco’s room. Yes, he knew Zzt by sight. He didn’t recall whether it was the thirteenth or the fourteenth of the month. But he’d seen him. He was cautioned to say nothing, for “it was official and had to do with mutiny surveillance,” and the attendant obligingly signed the witness report, vowing to himself to be sure to keep quiet. He didn’t care much for executives anyway.

And so it was that Terl, followed by the smaller Chamco brother with a blast rifle in ready position, came to the maintenance area of the garage. Terl snapped a small button camera on the wall and pushed its remote.

Zzt looked up. He had a heavy wrench in his paw. He looked at the blast rifle and the set faces. Fear stirred in him.

“Put down that wrench,” said Terl. “Turn around and hold onto that chain-lift rail with both paws.”

Zzt threw the wrench. It missed. Terl’s paws batted him across three dollies. The Chamco danced around trying to get in a shot.

Terl put his boot on Zzt’s neck. He waved the Chamco back.

His body obscuring the Chamco’s view,

Terl knelt and, with a rapid sleight of paw, “extracted” the wad of bills from Zzt’s rear pocket.

Terl handed them to the Chamco. “Are these your bills?”

Zzt had rolled over and stared up at them from the greasy floor.

The Chamco counted. “Six hundred fifty credits. And here’s the good-luck bill!” He was ecstatic.

Terl said, “You’re witness to the fact they were in his back pocket.”

“Absolutely!” said the Chamco.

“Show that bill to the camera on the wall,” said Terl.

“What is this?” roared Zzt.

“Back up and keep that blast rifle ready,” said Terl to the Chamco. Then, keeping himself out of the fire path to Zzt, he laid the things he had carried on the bench. He opened the book of regulations and pointed it out to Zzt.

Zzt angrily read it aloud. He faltered toward the end and turned to Terl. “Vaporize! I didn’t know that!”

“Ignorance is no excuse, but few employees know all the regulations. That you didn’t know it is probably why you did it.”

“Did what?” cried Zzt.

Terl turned on the disc. Zzt looked at it, confused, incredulous. He saw himself stealing the money!

Before Zzt could recover, Terl showed him the attendant’s signed statement.

“Do I vaporize him now?” begged the Chamco, waving the rifle about and fumbling off the safety catch.

Terl waved a conciliatory paw. “Chamco, we know you have every right- no, actually the duty- to carry out the execution.” He looked at Zzt, who was standing there stunned. “Zzt, you’re not going to do this sort of thing again, are you?” Zzt was shaking his head, not in answer but in dumbfounded confusion.

Terl turned back to Chamco. “You see? Now, listen, Chamco, I can understand your anger. This is a first-time mistake for Zzt. You’ve got your money back- and by the way, we’ll exchange that bill now. I’ll need it for the evidence file.”

The Chamco took the note Terl offered and handed over the good- luck bill. Terl held the bill up to the wall camera running on remote and then laid it down on the statement.

“You see, Chamco,” said Terl, “I can keep this file open, but in a safe place where it can be found if anything happens to either of us. It can be activated at any time. And would be activated if further offenses occurred.” His voice took on a pleading tone. “Zzt has been a valuable fellow in the past. As a favor to me, lay aside your revenge and let it lie.”

The Chamco was thoughtful, his bloodlust cooling.

Terl glanced at Zzt and saw no attack signals. He put out his paw to the Chamco. “Give me the rifle.” The Chamco did and Terl put on the safety slide. “Thank you,” said Terl. “The company is indebted to you. You can go back to work.”

The Chamco smiled. This Terl was sure a fair and efficient Psychlo. “I sure appreciate your getting my money back,” said the Chamco and left.

Terl turned off the camera he had put on the wall and restored it to his pocket. Then he picked up the things on the bench and made them into a neat package.

Zzt was standing there restraining the tremble that threatened to engulf him. The aura of death had gripped him all too nearly. Stark terror flared in his eyes as he looked at Terl. He was not seeing Terl. He was seeing the most diabolical devil ever drawn in the mythology of the Psychlos.

“All right?” said Terl quietly. Zzt sank slowly down on a bench.

Terl waited a bit but Zzt didn’t move. “Now to business,” said Terl. “I want certain things assigned to my department. A Mark III ground car, executive. Two battle planes, unlimited range. Three personnel freighters. And fuel and ammunition without inventory. And a few other things. In fact, I just happen to have the requisitions right here for you to sign. Oh, yes, there are some blank ones, too. All right?”

Zzt did not resist the pen as it was pushed between his claws. The thick sheaf of requisitions was slipped onto his knee. Lifelessly he began to sign each one.

That night a very cheerful Terl, who said he felt lucky even though a bit drunk, won all six hundred fifty credits back from the smaller Chamco brother in a very narrowly contested game of rings.

Terl even bought kerbango for the whole crowd out of his winnings as a good- night gesture. They cheered him when he happily rumbled off to a well-earned sleep.

He dreamed beautiful dreams wherein leverage made him wealthy, crowned him king, and got him far away from this accursed planet.

     Jonnie laid down his book and stood, stretching. There was more than a smell of spring in the air. The snow had run off and only lingered in shady places. The air was crystal, the sky a beautiful blue. There was a surging tension in his limbs and muscles. It was one thing to be cooped up in winter. It was quite another to sit in a cage in spring.

He saw what had distracted him a few moments before. Terl drove up to the cage gate in a long, sleekly gleaming, black tank. It purred quietly, hiding awesome power behind its gun muzzles and slitted ports.

Terl bounded out and the ground shook. He was very jovial. “Get your clothes on, animal. We’re going for a drive.”

Jonnie was dressed in buckskin.

“No, no, no,” said Terl. “Clothes! Not hides. You’ll stink up my new ground car. How do you like it?”

Jonnie was suddenly alert. Terl asking for opinion or admiration was not the Terl he knew. “I’m dressed,” said Jonnie.

Terl was unhooking the leash from the cage. “Oh, well. What’s the difference? I can stand it if you can. Get your air mask. You’ll be inside, and I am damned if I’ll drive around in one. Bring your clubs, too.”

Now Jonnie was alert. He put on a belt and a pouch with flints and the bits of glass for cutting. He put the thong of the kill-club over his wrist.

Terl checked the air bottles and playfully snapped the elastic of Jonnie’s mask as he put it on him. “Now get in, animal. Get in. Some ground car, eh?”

Indeed it was, thought Jonnie, as the gunner’s seat engulfed him. Blazing purple fabric, gleaming instrument panel, and shining control buttons.

“I checked her all out for remotes,” said Terl. He laughed and laughed at his joke as he climbed in. “You know what I’m refer ring to, rat brain. No over the cliff on fire today.” He hit a button and the doors closed and sealed. He turned on the breathe-gas louvers and the atmosphere changed in a blink. “Crap, were you stupid!” he laughed some more.

The ground car went hurtling toward the open, four feet above the earth, accelerating to two hundred miles per hour in a breath, almost breaking Jonnie’s spine.

Terl unsnapped his face mask and threw it aside. “You see those doors? Don’t ever hit a latch or try to open one when I’m not wearing a mask, animal. This thing would wreck with no driver.”

Jonnie looked at the latches and buttons and noted the information carefully. What a good idea.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Oh, just a drive, just a drive. Seeing the sights.”

Jonnie doubted that. He was watching every control action Terl was making. He could identify most of the levers and buttons already.

They sped north and then in a long curve headed south of west. Despite the blur of speed, Jonnie could see they were following some ancient, grass-overgrown highway. By the sun he marked their course.

Through the heavily plated gunner’s slits he could see a mass of ancient buildings and a field. A high mountain lay beyond. A range lay to the west. The ground car slowed and drew up a distance from the largest building. Jonnie looked at the desolate scene of ruin.

Terl reached into the ground car bar and drew himself a small pan of kerbango. He drank it off and smacked his mouthbones and belched. Then he put on his face mask and hit the door button. “Well, get out, get out and see the sights.”

Jonnie shut off his air and removed his mask. Terl flipped the leash to give it length and Jonnie got out. He looked around. In a nearby field there were some mounds of what had been machines, perhaps. The structures before him were impressive. Near where they stood was a sort of trench, long overgrown, curving. The grass was tall and the wind from the mountains moaned lonesomely.

“What was this place?” said Jonnie.

Terl stood with his elbow braced against the top of the car, indolent, very casual. “Animal, you are looking at the primary defense base of this planet during the days of man.”

“Yes?” prompted Jonnie.

Terl reached into the car and brought out a Chinko guidebook and threw it at him. A page was marked. It said, “A short distance from the minesite lies an impressive military ruin. Thirteen days after the Psychlo attack, a handful of men stood off a Psychlo tank for over three hours, using primitive weapons. It was the last resistance that was overcome by the Psychlos.” That was all it said.

Jonnie looked around.

Terl pointed at the curved trench. “It happened right here,” he said, with a sweep of his paw. “Look.” He dealt out more leash.

Jonnie crept over to the trench. It was hard to see where it began and ended. It had some stones in front of it. The grass was very tall, moving in the wind.

“Look good,” said Terl.

Jonnie moved down into the trench. And then he saw it. Although a great time had passed, there were scraps of metal that had been guns. And there were scraps of uniforms, mainly buried, hardly more than impressions.

Suddenly he was gripped by the vision of desperate men, fighting valiantly, hopelessly. He glanced across the field before the trench and could almost see the Psychlo tank coming on, withdrawing, coming on, battering them at last to death.

Jonnie’s heart rose, swelled in his chest. Blood hammered in his ears.

Terl leaned indolently against the car. “Seen enough?”

“Why have you shown me this?”

Terl barked a laugh behind his mask. “So you won’t get any ideas, animal. This was the number-one defense base of the planet. And just one measly Psychlo tank knocked it to bits in a wink. Got it?”

That wasn’t what Jonnie had gotten. Terl, who couldn’t read English had not read the still-plain letters on the building. Those letters said, “United States Air Force Academy.”

“Well, put on your mask and get in. We have other things to do today.”

Jonnie got in. It had not been the “primary defense base.” It was just a school. And that handful of men had been schoolboys, cadets. And they’d had the guts to stand off a Psychlo tank, outgunned, hopeless, for three hours!

As they moved off, Jonnie looked back at the trench. His people. Men! He found it hard to breathe. They had not died tamely. They had fought.