Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000

by L. Ron Hubbard

  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.

  6

  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 referring 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.

  7

  Terl drove straight north, following the overgrown bed of an old highway. For all his joviality he was thinking very hard. Fear and leverage. If you didn’t have leverage you could make fear work. He felt he had already accomplished a little bit: the animal had seemed impressed back there. But he had a lot to do to get both fear and leverage and get enough of them to break this animal and cow it completely.

  “Comfortable?” asked Terl.

  Jonnie snapped out of his daydream and became instantly alert. This was not the Terl he knew. Casual. Chatty even. Jonnie was on his guard.

  “Where are we going?” he said.

  “Just a little drive. New ground car. Doesn’t she run well?”

  The tank ran well all right. The plate on the panel said:

  Mark III General Purpose Tank, Executive, ‘The Enemy Is Dead,’ Intergalactic Mining Company Serial ET-5364724354-7. Use Only Faro Power Cartridges and Breathe-Gas. ‘Faro is the Breath and Power of Life.’

  “Is ‘Faro’ part of Intergalactic?” said Jonnie.

  Terl took his eyes off driving for a moment and looked suspiciously at Jonnie. Then he shrugged, “Don’t you bother your little rat brain about the size of Intergalactic, animal. It’s a monopoly that stretches across every galaxy. It’s a size and scope you couldn’t grasp if you had a thousand rat brains.”

  “It’s all run from home planet, isn’t it?”

  “Why not?” said Terl. “Something wrong with that?”

  “No,” said Jonnie. “No. Just seems an awfully big company to be run from one planet.”

  “That isn’t all Psychlo runs,” said Terl. “There’s dozens of companies the size of Intergalactic and Psychlo runs them all.”

  “Must be a big planet,” said Jonnie.

  “Big and powerful,” said Terl. Might as well add a little more fear. “Psychlo can and has crushed every opposition that ever stood in her path. One imperial check mark on an order and a whole race can go phuttt!”

  “Like the Chinkos?” said Jonnie.

  “Yes.” Terl was bored.

  “Like the human race here?”

  “Yes, and like one rat-brained animal will go phuttt if it doesn’t shut up,” said Terl in sudden irritation.

  “Thank you,” said Jonnie.

  “That’s better. Even becoming properly polite!” Terl’s good humor returned, but it wouldn’t have had he realized that the “thank you” had been for vital information.

  Abruptly their headlong pace swept them into the outskirts of the city.

  “Where are we?” said Jonnie.

  “They called it ‘Denver.’”

  Aha, thought Jonnie. The Great Village had been named Denver. If it had a name to itself, that implied that there were other Great Villages. He reached for the Chinko guidebook of the area and was just reading about the library when the ground car came to a stop.

  “Where’s this?” inquired Jonnie, looking around. They were at the eastern edge of the town and slightly to the south.

  “Knew you had a rat brain,” said Terl. “This is where you”—he laughed suddenly and that made it hard to talk—“where you attacked a tank!”

  Jonnie looked around. It was indeed the place. He looked through all the slits, taking in the area. “What are we doing here?”

  Terl grinned in what he was quite certain was his most friendly grin. “We’re looking for your horse! Isn’t that nice?”

  Jonnie thought fast. There was more to this. He had better be very calm. He saw no bones but that meant nothing, for wild animals would have been at work. He looked at Terl and realized the brute actually believed a horse would wait around. Windsplitter most probably had trotted on after them a while and then wandered back toward home in the mountains.

  “There are countless animals out in the open here,” said Jonnie. “Picking out those two horses—”

  “Rat brain, you don’t have a grip on machines. It shows. Look here.” Terl turned on a large screen set into the instrument panel. The immediate vicinity showed up on it. Terl turned a knob and the scene was viewable from different directions.

  Then Terl pushed a button and there was a dull pop like a small explosion in the top of the car. Looking up through the overhead port Jonnie saw a spinning object fly up in the air a hundred feet. Terl pushed a lever up and the object went up. Terl pulled the lever down and the object came lower. What it was seeing registered on the viewscreen.

  “That’s why you can’t get away,” said Terl. “Look.” He changed a lever on the screen and the image became enlarged. He pushed a button marked “Heat search” and the screen and spinner above went onto automatic.

  Jonnie watched as groups of animals were zeroed in, enlarged, reduced; other groups found and inspected up close; more animals spotted and examined . . .

  “Just sit and watch that,” said Terl, “and tell me if you see your horse.” He laughed. “Security chief of Earth running a lost-and-found department for an animal owned by an animal.” He laughed more loudly at his own joke.

  There were cattle and cattle and cattle. There were wolves—small ones from the nearby mountains and huge ones down from the north. There were coyotes. There was even a rattler. There were no horses at all.

  “Well,” said Terl, “we’ll just drive along to the south. You keep your eyes open, animal, and you’ll get your horse back.”

  They drove at a leisurely pace. Jonnie watched the scope. Time went on. Still no horses, none at all.

  Terl began to get irritated. Leverage, leverage. His luck was out today!

  “No horses,” said Jonnie. And he knew very well that if he had seen Windsplitter he would have kept still.

  Terl finally looked at the scope. Ahead of them was a small hill, rocky on top, with a lot of trees distributed around it and darkness in among the trees. There were cattle, some with rather big horns just to the north of it in the open. Fear, then. The day wouldn’t be wasted. He swerved the car into the trees and stopped.

  “Get out,” said Terl. He put on his breathe-mask and hit the door buttons. He threw out the leash and then reached into the huge compartment under the seat and drew out a blast rifle along with a bag of grenades.

  Jonnie stood in the open and took off his mask. He switched tanks before he put it on the seat. It had been a long drive.

  Terl took a position at the edge of the trees, the rocks behind him, the open plain in front. “Come here, animal,” he said.

  The leash was trailing. Jonnie walked over to Terl. He wasn’t going to give the monster a chance to gun him down.

  “I’m going to give you a little exhibition,” said Terl. “I was top shot in my school. You ever notice how neat the rat heads were blown off? Some of them were fifty paces away. You’re not listening, animal.”

  No, Jonnie was not listening. He had caught a whiff of something and he looked at the rocks behind them. There was an opening in them. A cave? There was the whiff again.

  Terl reached down and jerked the leash, almost snapping Jonnie off his feet. Jonnie
got up from his knees and looked again toward the cave. He gripped the kill-club in his fist.

  With an expert motion, Terl snapped a grenade onto the end of the blast rifle. “Watch this!”

  There were a half-dozen cattle about eighty paces out on the plain. Two of them were heavy horned bulls, old and tough. The other four were cows.

  Terl lifted the blast rifle muzzle-high and fired. The grenade soared in a long arc over the top of the cattle and landed well beyond them. It exploded in a bright green flash. One cow went down, hit by a fragment.

  The others leaped and began to run. They ran away from the sound and straight toward Terl.

  Terl leveled the blast rifle. “Those hoofs are moving,” he said. “So you won’t think it’s an accident.”

  The bulls were coming on in a headlong rush, the cows behind them. The ground shook. The distance was closing quickly.

  Terl began to fire in quick single shots.

  He broke the legs of the following cows and they tumbled to earth, bawling.

  He broke the right front leg of the farthest bull. The other was almost upon them.

  One final shot and Terl broke the right front leg of the nearest bull, which skidded to a crumbled heap, mere feet in front of them.

  The air was shattering with the bawls of pain from the cattle.

  Terl grinned as he looked at them. Jonnie looked back at him in horror. That grin behind the faceplate was of pure joy.

  Jonnie felt revulsion for the monster. Terl was—Jonnie suddenly realized there was no word for “cruel” in the Psychlo language. He turned toward the cattle.

  Walking out in front with his kill-club to put them out of their agony, he heard a new sound, a rustling rumble.

  Jonnie whirled. Coming away from the cave, awakened and angered by all the racket, charging straight at Terl’s back, was the biggest grizzly bear Jonnie had ever seen.

  “Behind you!” he yelled. But his voice was drowned in the bawling of the cattle. Terl just stood there grinning.

  A moment later the bear roared.

  Terl heard it and started to turn. But he was too late.

  The grizzly hit him in the back with an impact that sent out a shock wave.