Bingwen grabbed Grandfather’s belt to steady him more, and Grandfather nodded his thanks. Then Grandfather took a breath and, moving slower than before, continued down the staircase.
We won’t get home before sunrise, Bingwen realized. Not at this pace. Not with three kilometers of rice fields to traverse. He watched Grandfather’s feet, shuffling forward, carefully maneuvering each step.
Step. Shuffle. Step. Shuffle.
Bingwen looked up. It was a cloudless night. The Milky Way and millions of stars arced across the sky. One of the stars seemed particularly bright. At first Bingwen thought it might be a plane or a high-altitude skimmer. But the light didn’t move. It didn’t blink. It stayed there, staring down at him, unflinching. Bingwen kept his eyes on it, waiting for it to drop from the sky and spill fire.
CHAPTER 11
HERC
Mazer doubted he would get through to the NZSAS, but he went to his office to try contacting them anyway. It was the middle of the night, and the administration building was dark and deserted when he arrived. The holodesk was on and waiting for him, cycling through images of Chinese soldiers in combat gear. Mazer wiped his hand through the field, and the images disappeared, replaced with a menu of Chinese characters. The base didn’t have an English model, but Mazer knew enough characters to operate the thing. He tapped out the appropriate commands and waited.
The star icon spun in the field, indicating the uplink was pinging Auckland. Mazer had tried this hours ago, but the grid had been too congested then. Trying now, moments after the alien ship had fired upon news shuttles and essentially declared war on the human race, would almost certainly prove a waste of time; every secure link in the New Zealand Army would be in use now.
To Mazer’s surprise, there was a chime, and a New Zealand comms technician appeared in the holofield. The tech was young, barely eighteen, and looked frazzled.
“NZ comms,” said the tech. “You are connected. Identify. Over.”
“Captain Mazer Rackham requesting immediate contact with Colonel Napatu at Papakura. NZSAS.”
“One moment, sir.” The tech busied himself with offscreen controls.
Mazer watched him. He’s not frazzled, Mazer realized. He’s afraid. He’s scared out of his buck-private mind because the world he thought he knew, a world in which nothing questioned our position at the top of the food chain, was just thrown out with the bathwater.
The tech finished whatever he was doing. “I’m sorry, Captain. Colonel Napatu is inaccessible. Shall I patch you through to the SAS switchboard?”
“Yes, please.”
“One moment.”
The kid disappeared. The star icon returned. Mazer waited for ten minutes. Finally Sergeant Major Manaware, Colonel Napatu’s assistant, answered. Before Mazer could say a word, the sergeant major said, “Your orders are to maintain your position, Captain.”
The holofield chimed, and a memo from Colonel Napatu appeared as an icon in the field. A form order, no doubt.
Mazer exhaled to keep his cool. “Sergeant Major, if the SAS deploys, my team needs to be on hand. No one knows the HERC like we do.”
“Captain, I know you’re frustrated, but the colonel’s got seventeen strike teams on assignment all over the planet, and right now we don’t have the means to bring you all home. And even if we did, the colonel is asking everyone to stay put. We don’t know what we’re up against, and we are not yet in a state of war. The alien ship remains in geosynchronous orbit. We’re not circling the wagons just yet. Colonel Napatu is on conference with the admiral and other unit chiefs as we speak. In the meantime, watch the feeds and stay informed.”
“That’s just it,” said Mazer. “We can’t watch the feeds anymore. After the alien ship destroyed the news shuttles, the Chinese blocked all public access to the feeds. We’re in the dark. We have no idea what’s going on now. I think the Chinese are trying to prevent a panic, but they’re liable to only make things worse.”
“Then check in with us on the switchboard every few hours, we’ll keep you informed.”
“I usually can’t get through,” said Mazer. “It’s a miracle I got through this time. Request permission to keep this line open.”
“Negative. I need every available line. If you can’t check in with us, then use your receivers to access one of our satellites.”
“We can’t do that either. The Chinese only allow access to their own satellites. They jam everything else. It’s been that way ever since we got here.”
Manaware was getting impatient. “Then talk to the Chinese. Even if they’ve blocked public access, the military will still have access to feeds. Ask them to keep you informed.”
“Yes, but—”
“Captain, I’ve got twenty holos in my queue to answer. Excuse me.”