But no, five days was an eternity away. If they started to approach that, if it looked like they would be delayed, then Lem would radio them to abort.
He went back out to the warehouse and tried busying himself with other things while they finished. Nothing held his attention, and he eventually returned and hovered over them until it was done. Men with lifters came and took the camouflaged ship into an airlock. Benyawe and Dublin had done a good job with the decoy. It attached to the recon ship quite nicely and looked as realistically like junk as the recon ship did.
Victor and Imala were waiting by the airlock entrance already in their spacesuits. “You have the explosive?” Lem asked.
“Wouldn’t be much of a trip without it,” said Victor.
Lem nodded. No one spoke. There was nothing more to say. Lem extended his hand. “Good luck.”
Victor considered the hand, hesitated. Imala poked him in the ribs with her elbow and Victor took the hand and shook it. “Thanks.”
“Thank me when you get back,” said Lem.
Victor and Imala entered the airlock and climbed into the cockpit. Lem stood at the glass and watched them take off. It seemed strange to watch a hunk of junk fly like a ship, but that was the beauty of the idea, Lem supposed. The ship accelerated, getting smaller and smaller as it moved into the blackness. Lem watched it until it was nothing more than a dot in the distance. In less than a day it would decelerate and approach the Formic ship at a drifting speed, but for now it shot away like a rocket.
Now that they were off, the whole idea seemed utterly ridiculous. A ship disguised as junk. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Now, with them out of sight, it felt like a fool’s errand.
Benyawe came and stood beside him at the glass, looking out into space, her long gray braids dangling to her shoulders. “They’re going to do fine,” she said.
He turned to her. “You’re a scientist. You act and think and decide based on facts. Do you honestly believe that? Do you honestly believe this has a chance?”
“Probably not.”
He exhaled and turned back to the glass. “That’s what I thought.”
“But the scientist is only part of who I am, Lem. There’s also the wife part and the mother part and the sister and the friend and all the other parts. Those parts say we cannot lose. And those parts are the ones I choose to believe.”
CHAPTER 28
Drill Sledges
The military base was little more than rubble and burned earth and bloated, rotting bodies lying scattered in the sun. Most of them were Chinese soldiers, but Wit saw Formics among the dead as well. Wrecked troop transports, downed skimmers, the husk of a burned-out Chinese helicopter. Wit had expected the sight, but it pained him to see it nonetheless. It was further evidence that the Formics were winning the war. The Chinese didn’t even have the manpower to bury their dead.
Mazer directed the vehicles to a hangar at the airfield. There were two aircraft inside that Mazer called HERCs. They both appeared undamaged. “We lucked out,” said Mazer. “At least one of these is sure to fly.”
They then drove northeast of the airfield to a bunker overlooking a muddy valley. There Wit saw the three drill sledges Mazer had told him about during the drive from the lander.
“They’re still there,” said Mazer. “Miracles never cease.”
“Vehicles are not a plan,” said Wit.
“The underside of the lander isn’t shielded,” said Mazer. “So we attack it from the bottom, underground. We tunnel in with these three drill sledges and punch a hole through the underside of the lander.”
“And do what?” asked Wit.
“There are too few of us to take on the whole structure with small arms. I say we plant explosives and cripple the lander.”
“Not good enough,” said Wit. “We nuke it. We wipe it off the face of the Earth. If we only cripple it, they’ll realize the underside is their weak spot and they’ll extend the shield down. If that happens we’ll never penetrate it.”
“So all we need is a tactical nuke?” said Bingwen. “Oh, I thought it might be something hard to come by.”
“I don’t like this kid’s sarcasm,” said Calinga.
“Bingwen has a point,” said Mazer. “There are explosives here on base that I’m aware of, but nothing on the scale of a nuke.”
“Leave that to me,” said Wit.
“You have a secret stash somewhere?” asked Bingwen.
“He keeps talking like he’s one of us,” said Calinga.
“He is,” said Mazer. “I’m beginning to think some children are made for war.”
“The Chinese will give us the nuke,” said Wit. “We’ve been building contacts within the military since the start of our campaign. Many are high-ranking officers who have contacted us anonymously. We share tactics, make suggestions, keep the intel flowing. We’ve saved their bacon, they’ve saved ours. I’ll tell them what we plan to do and ask for supplies.”
“And they’ll just hand you a nuke?” said Mazer.