Earth Afire

“If they ship me out, you mean.”

 

 

“Think positive,” said Imala. “The world is desperate. They’d be insane not to take someone with your talents.”

 

Victor entered the building and told the woman at the counter why he’d come. She directed him to a room where a handful of other men around Victor’s age were waiting. An hour passed as more men trickled in. They were from all nationalities. Some were nicely dressed. Others wore mismatched hand-me-down garments as was the norm among most free-miner families.

 

Eventually a uniformed soldier entered and addressed them. “NATO does not take walk-ins,” he said. “We take trained soldiers only. Our forces come from the existing armies of our member countries. So we can’t enlist any of you into our service. However, through that far door we have recruiters from every member country. You can enlist in their army, and once you’ve received training, you can request a transfer to a NATO force. If you are not a citizen of any country, if you don’t have a birth certificate, I’m afraid no country is going to take you. Please exit back this way.” He pointed to the door they had come through. “Give your contact information to the woman at the desk. If our policy changes, we will make an effort to contact you.”

 

“How?” said Victor. “How will you contact us? My ship was destroyed, and how would you contact a ship anyway? Most communications are down.”

 

“Sorry. That’s what I’ve been asked to say.”

 

“You mean that’s what they told you to tell us space borns to make us go away.”

 

The room was quiet. The soldier said nothing.

 

“What difference does citizenship make anyway?” said Victor. “People on Earth are dying. Do you think they care if their rescuers have a birth certificate?”

 

“Look, I don’t make the policy,” said the soldier.

 

“No, you just follow it. You’ll let the world be destroyed because of a policy.”

 

“With all due respect, friend, one person can’t stop the world from being destroyed.”

 

Victor was on his feet. “With all due respect, friend, you’re wrong.”

 

He went through the door and passed the front desk without stopping.

 

Outside, Imala and Yanyu instantly saw that it hadn’t gone well. “You okay?” asked Imala.

 

All the rage and disappointment in Victor fizzled out, replaced with embarrassment. “I’m not even a second-class citizen, Imala. I’m nobody.”

 

“Not true,” said Yanyu. “You are a first-class citizen. First-class friend. Come. I will cook you my turnip cakes. They will make you happy.”

 

Cakes made from turnips? The idea didn’t sound promising. But Victor put on his best smile for her sake and followed them toward an available track car.

 

*

 

 

 

Yanyu’s apartment was cramped but well organized, adorned with trinkets and art prints from China. There was plenty of food to go along with the turnip cakes—pan-fried noodles with bean sprouts, congee with dried minced pork, and sweet tea, all of it in sealed containers that magnetized to the table. Victor never would have thought of it as breakfast food, but it was all good nonetheless.

 

The turnip cakes, as Yanyu had promised, did in fact make him happy. They were thick, pan-fried, square-shaped rice cakes filled with sausage and Jinhua ham. Victor had eaten four of them before Yanyu explained that they weren’t actually made with turnips.

 

“Then why call them turnip cakes?” Victor asked with a mouthful.

 

Yanyu shrugged. “Why do Americans call them hamburgers if they’re made from beef and not pork?”

 

“She has a point,” said Imala.

 

When they had eaten and cleared the dishes, Yanyu asked, “What will you do now?”

 

“If an army won’t take us, we’ll form our own,” said Victor. “The three of us.”

 

“What can three people do against the Formics?” asked Yanyu.

 

“Tell us more about yesterday’s attack on the mothership,” said Victor. “What did the Formics do exactly?”

 

“They won,” said Yanyu. “They fired at anything that moved. Some of the shuttles came in slowly and got close, but the Formics vaporized them before they reached the ship. It made humans look foolish.”

 

“Do you have any footage from the battle?” asked Victor.

 

“We recorded it with the Juke scopes.” She pushed off from the table and moon bounced into the family room, where she pulled up several vid files on the holoscreen. “Help yourself, though you will only find it depressing.”

 

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