“Shields,” said Mazer. “That must be how they’re stripping the land. It’s the same technology they’re using to protect the lander.”
“I do not know technology,” said Danwen. “I only know that they are evil. Destruction and death is their only business. First they spray the mist. Whatever it touches wilts and dies quickly. Then the wind carries it elsewhere. Over time the plants touched by the wind wilt as well, sometimes an hour later, sometimes as much as a day. Soon everything shrivels and dies. Then the Formics return and scoop it all away.” He looked behind him, saw that Bingwen was still squatting by the fire twenty meters away, and spoke almost in a whisper. “The boy’s parents are dead. I found them a few days ago in the valley behind us. They had been killed with the mist. I went back the next day with a shovel to bury them, but the land had been stripped. They were gone. Their bodies are there in the rotting mountain. I have not told Bingwen. No boy should have to know such things.”
Mazer was quiet a moment then said, “Is that where you found the sword? Down in the valley?”
Danwen nodded. “Off a dead man from our village. It is not much. Hardly any edge to it. But we needed something when we lost the rifle. I will protect Bingwen with my life.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” said Mazer.
Danwen smiled. “Yes. And you’re lucky to have him.”
A sound of an aircraft in the distance made them both turn in that direction.
“What about the war?” asked Mazer.
“For the first few days there were many planes and battles in the air. Our fighters were better than theirs. I saw two Formic flyers destroyed in a dogfight. I watched the whole thing from right here.” He pointed west. “They crashed five kilometers or so in that direction. I felt like dancing. But these are little victories. The rumors are that wave after wave of Chinese soldiers are dying. Great battles northwest and southeast of here. The Formics mow them down. It is a one-sided war, and we are losing.”
“What about the lander?”
“What of it?”
“Has anyone attacked it?”
“The air force made a great show of it. Dozens of aircraft, flying in formations and firing every kind of missile and laser. We heard the explosions for days. Boom boom boom. Nothing gets through to the lander, though. It is protected. After a while the air force gave up. They haven’t come back.”
“What about Chinese infantry? Have you seen any tanks or military presence near here?”
“I have seen nothing,” said Danwen. “Not a single Chinese soldier.”
“You should have left me here and moved north with the others,” said Mazer.
“Bingwen wouldn’t hear of it. I suggested having the water buffalo pull you again, but you were too weak. Too sick. You probably wouldn’t have made it. Bingwen refused. He can be very stubborn.”
“And very smart.”
“Yes. That too.”
“I’m sorry I kept you. You can move on now. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
Danwen laughed quietly. “Bingwen says we are safer with you than we would be out in the open. He says you’ll protect us. That’s why he brought you back. For protection. Again, a very smart boy.”
“I’m not going north,” said Mazer. “When I’m well enough I’m going south, toward the lander.”
“Why?”
“To destroy it.”
“You are one man. Wounded and without any weapons. How can you destroy such a thing?”
“Find a hole in their shield and exploit it.”
“And what if there is no hole?”
“Then I’ll make a hole.”
Danwen shook his head and laughed sadly. “You are as stubborn as the boy, Mazer Rackham. As stubborn as the boy.”
CHAPTER 21
Homecoming
Lem’s ship, the Makarhu, landed at the Jukes North Dock on Luna just as Father had instructed, arriving precisely at the appointed hour. Lem could have arrived twelve hours earlier, and he had been tempted to do just that to throw Father off his game. But in the end he had decided against it. To ignore Father’s specific instructions would be to fire the first shot of whatever war would play out between them, and for now Lem thought it best to play the part of the conciliatory son. Better to see first what Father was playing at and then react accordingly.
Lem stood at Makarhu’s airlock in his best uniform. He had not yet turned on his greaves, and he could feel the light gravity of the moon pulling at his feet. It was a welcomed feeling. The first sign of home.