Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000

by L. Ron Hubbard

  “Yes, I can see that,” said Terl. “Go through it and find mountains.” He moved off, elaborately interested in some ancient posters on the wall, holding the leash.

  Jonnie started opening drawers. Some were stuck; others had their front tabs missing. But he finally found the drawers for M. He began to go through the cards. He came to Modern Military Science.

  “I’ve found something,” said Jonnie. “May I have a pen to write the numbers?”

  Terl handed him a pen several sizes too big for Jonnie’s hand and then gave him some folded sheets. Terl wandered off again. Jonnie wrote down the numbers of several books.

  “I have to go over to the shelves now,” said Jonnie. And Terl paid out more line.

  After a little while, and after a minor battle with a ladder that had sunk into and stuck to the floor, Jonnie got up to a higher shelf and raised the protective sheet. In a moment he was swiftly scanning through a section of a book headed Defense Systems of the United States.

  “Anything about mountains?” said Terl. Jonnie bent down and showed him a page entitled MX1 Anti-Nuclear Silos.

  “Yep,” said Terl.

  Jonnie handed him the book. “We better take this one. There’s some more.”

  In rapid order he fought the ladder along the shelves and took out another half-dozen books: Nuclear Physics, Congressional Hearings on Missile Installations, The Scandals of Nuclear Mismanagement, Nuclear Deterrent Strategy, Uranium—Hope or Hell, and Nuclear Waste and Pollution. There were more but he felt rushed, and the seven books were heavy for a man about to run.

  “I don’t see any pictures,” said Terl.

  Jonnie quickly pushed the ladder along. He grabbed a book, Colorado, Scenic Wonderland, glanced at it, and gave it to Terl.

  “That’s more like it, animal.” Terl was pleased with the gorgeous views of mountains, particularly since many were purple and the aging ink had turned bluish. “More like it.”

  Terl put the books in a sack. “Let’s see if we can locate the relief map.” He gave the leash a yank that almost tumbled Jonnie off the ladder. But Terl didn’t lead the way to another floor right then. He wandered over to the door first and seemed to be listening. Then he came back and went up some stairs.

  There was a relief map laid out on display, possibly not a permanent fixture. Terl knelt down and looked at it searchingly.

  Jonnie, keyed up as he was, was made very uneasy by the colored relief map. It showed the nearby mountains very accurately by his estimation. The passes and Highpeak were plain. And there was the meadow of the village in plain sight. Of course the map had been made ages before there was a village. But still, there it was. It made Jonnie nervous. He knew the recon drone must have spotted it long since and that Terl undoubtedly had pictures of it.

  There, also, was the long canyon, and Jonnie knew he was looking at the location of what he had taken to be an ancient tomb. He looked as closely as he could without calling it to Terl’s attention. No, there was no tomb or anything else marked at the head of that canyon. As a slight diversion, he traced out with his finger some of the letters: ROCKY MOUNTAINS, PIKE’S PEAK, MOUNT VAIL.

  Then he saw that he needn’t have bothered to dissemble. Terl’s attention was glued on a deep, long canyon. A talon was carefully tracing a cliff face and the river below it. The monster, seeing Jonnie was watching, quickly traced some other canyons in the same way. But he came back to that one canyon.

  Terl stiffened for a moment, head jerking up. Then he became very bland. “Seen all you want, animal?”

  Jonnie was happy to get him away from the relief map. It was too much like Terl staring down at Jonnie’s people.

  Terl went down the stairs toward the front door, pools of ancient dust stirring as he walked.

  The sound of their footsteps had obscured it. Jonnie was certain he heard the hoofstrike of a horse!

  7

  Terl was standing just outside the library, looking down the grass-grown street.

  Jonnie shifted his position to see what Terl was looking at. He went rigid with shock.

  A hundred yards away, there was Windsplitter!

  And somebody on him and three other horses behind him.

  Terl was just standing there watching the street.

  The moment had come. It was not coordinated. But Jonnie knew he was having his last chance.

  He snapped the metal tool out of his ankle cuff and slashed the leash.

  It parted.

  Like a streak of light Jonnie sprinted out of the door past Terl. Suddenly yanking talons caught in the buckskin. It ripped.

  Zigzagging like a hare, Jonnie headed for the nearest tree cover, momentarily expecting a pistol blast in the back.

  He halted with his back braced against a broad aspen.

  It was Chrissie!

  And not only Chrissie, there was Pattie.

  A sob surged up through Jonnie.

  Chrissie’s glad cry rang out. “Jonnie!”

  Pattie yelled with delight. “Jonnie! Jonnie!”

  And Windsplitter started to trot toward him.

  “Go back!” screamed Jonnie. “Run! Oh my God, run!”

  They halted, perplexed, their gladness turning into alarm. At a distance behind Jonnie they could see a thing. They started to turn the horses.

  Jonnie crouched and whirled. Terl was still standing in the library door. Jonnie grabbed the handgun from his pouch and threw the safety off. He let the handgun show.

  “If you fire on them you’re dead!” he shouted.

  Terl just stood there.

  There was a turmoil of horses behind Jonnie. He risked a glance back. Windsplitter had reared. He had seen no reason not to approach his master. He was fighting to come forward.

  “Run, Chrissie! Run!” screamed Jonnie.

  Terl was walking forward, rumbling, indolent. He had not drawn his gun.

  “Tell them to ride up closer,” called Terl.

  “Stand where you are!” shouted Jonnie. “I’ll shoot!”

  Terl leisurely strolled forward. “Don’t get them hurt, animal.”

  Jonnie stepped out from the tree. The handgun was extended. He was sighting it on Terl’s mask tube.

  “Be reasonable, animal,” said Terl. But he stopped.

  “You knew they would be here today!” said Jonnie.

  “Yes,” said Terl. “I’ve been tracking them by recon drone for days. Ever since they left your village. Put the gun away, animal.”

  Behind him Jonnie could hear the horses milling. If only they would run!

  Terl, paw staying clear of his gun, was reaching for his breast pocket.

  “Stay still or I’ll shoot!” called Jonnie.

  “Well, animal, you can go ahead and pull the firing catch if you like. The electrical connector has a dummy wire in it.”

  Jonnie looked at the gun. He took a deep breath and lined it up. He clenched the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  Terl finished his motion to his breast pocket. He took out the gold coin and tossed it in the air and caught it. “I, not Ker, sold you the gun, animal.”

  Jonnie pulled a kill-club from his belt. He braced himself for a charge.

  Terl’s paw motion was swifter than the eye. His belt gun was out. It fired a sharp bark.

  An inhuman scream racketed out behind Jonnie. He glanced back. A pack horse was down, threshing.

  “Your friends will be next,” said Terl.

  Jonnie lowered the club.

  “That’s better,” said Terl. “Now help me round these creatures up so we can get them in the truck.”

  8

  The truck bumped southward with its cargo of freight and despair.

  Collared and cinched up to a bracing, Jonnie looked over the scene in misery.

  Pattie, bruised from a fall in the melee, was sitting bolt upright, arms lashed to her sides and her back lashed to a truck stake. She was in shock and her face was gray white. She was eight now.

  The wounde
d horse, still bleeding from a deep blast penetration in its right shoulder, still burdened with its pack, lay on its side, legs kicking slightly from time to time. Terl had simply picked it up and dumped it into the truck bed. Jonnie worried that it might kick out and break the left leg of another horse. It was one of Jonnie’s old string, named Blodgett.

  The three other horses were snubbed tight to the truck stakes and their nostrils were flaring in fear as the plain fled fast below the vehicle.

  Chrissie was lashed to a bracing across from Jonnie. Her eyes were shut. Her breathing was shallow.

  Questions had surged in Jonnie but he blocked them with tight lips. His own plans looked futile to him. He blamed himself for delaying his escape. He might have known that Terl had it all worked out. Hatred of the monster choked his throat.

  At length Chrissie opened her eyes and looked at him. She saw he was watching Pattie.

  “I couldn’t leave her,” said Chrissie. “She followed and I took her back twice, but the third time we were too far out in the plain; it was better to go on.”

  “Just rest, Chrissie,” said Jonnie.

  The horse Blodgett moaned as the truck banged over some rough ground.

  “I know I was early,” said Chrissie. “But Windsplitter came home. He was on the plain below the pass, and some of the boys were out to drive some cattle up and they saw him and Dancer and brought them in.” Dancer was the lead horse Jonnie had taken, a mare.

  Chrissie was quiet for a while. Then: “Windsplitter had a fresh scar on him like a puma had raked him and it looked like perhaps he might have run off and left you. I thought maybe you were hurt.”

  Yes, thought Jonnie. Windsplitter could have wandered back last year and when he tried to mount up through the passes found them blocked with snow. He would have wandered back to winter on the plain, followed by Dancer. There was a deep furrow, now healing, on Windsplitter’s rump.

  “It’s all right,” said Jonnie soothingly.

  “I couldn’t stand the idea of you lying down there hurt,” said Chrissie.

  The truck bumped on for a while.

  “Jonnie, there was a Great Village,” said Chrissie.

  “I know,” said Jonnie.

  “Jonnie, that’s a monster, isn’t it?” She twitched her head toward the cab.

  “Yes,” said Jonnie. “It won’t harm you.” Any lie to calm her.

  “I heard you speak its language. It has a language, and you talk it.”

  “I’ve been its captive for almost a year,” said Jonnie.

  “What will it do? To Pattie? To us?”

  “Don’t worry too much about it, Chrissie.” Yes, God alone knew what the monster would do to them now. There was no reason to tell her this had messed up his escape. It wasn’t her fault. It was his own. He had delayed too long.

  The truck swerved across a broken bridge and jolted on.

  Jonnie decided he had better tell her something to calm her. “It apparently wants something from me. I will have to do it now. It won’t really harm you. Just threats. When I’ve done whatever it is, it will let us go.” He didn’t like to lie. He had felt all along that Terl would kill him when he had served his unknown purpose.

  Chrissie managed a shaky smile. “Old Mr. Jimson is parson and mayor now. We got through the winter all right.” She was silent for a while. “We only ate two of your horses.”

  “That’s good, Chrissie.”

  “I made you some new buckskins,” said Chrissie. “They’re in that pack.”

  “Thank you, Chrissie.”

  Pattie, her eyes dilated, suddenly screamed, “Is it going to eat us?”

  “No, no, Pattie,” said Jonnie. “It doesn’t eat living things. It’s all right, Pattie.”

  She subsided.

  “Jonnie.” Chrissie paused. “You’re alive. That’s the main thing, Jonnie.” Tears welled out of her eyes. “I thought you were dead!”

  Yes. He was alive. They were alive. But he didn’t know for how long. He thought of Terl breaking the legs of the cattle.

  The truck rattled through an expanse of brush.

  “Jonnie,” said Chrissie. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

  Oh, dear God. Mad at you. Oh God, no. He couldn’t talk. He shook his head.

  The roar of the mine became louder in the distance.

  9

  They had been left in the truck throughout the chilly night. Terl had simply put a couple of button cameras on it, one at each end, and had gone off to his quarters.

  But it was midmorning now and Terl had been bustling about the cages since before dawn. Jonnie had not been able to turn his head enough to see what he was doing; the collar and leash had never been so tight.

  Terl came to the back of the truck and dropped its gate. He led the horses out and tied the lead ropes to a tree. Then he bodily shoved the wounded horse off the truck and when it hit the ground shoved it further out of the way. It was trying to stand and he cuffed it, knocking it down again.

  He came onto the bed and unfastened Pattie. He had a collar in his paw and he clamped it around Pattie’s throat. He pulled out a welding torch and welded it shut and then welded a lead to it. Picking the little girl up with one swoop, he went off with her.

  Presently he came back. Chrissie shrank away from him. He had another collar and he welded it on. Jonnie had a closer look at it as the leash was fastened. This collar had a red bulge on its side. Jonnie realized that Pattie’s had had one too.

  Terl looked at Jonnie’s eyes. They were ice-blue and deadly. “Your turn in a moment, animal. No need to be cross. A whole new life is opening up for you.” He scooped up Chrissie and packed her off the truck.

  He was gone for some time. Jonnie heard the cage door opening and shutting as though being tested.

  Then the truck rocked as Terl’s enormous weight came onto it again.

  He looked down at Jonnie. “Any more dummy wires?” he said. “You sure you’re not sitting on a blast rifle that has its action dummy wired?” Terl laughed at his own joke. “You know, I am going to knock the crap out of Ker for not teaching you any better.” He was fumbling with Jonnie’s leash and lashings. “Rat brain,” said Terl.

  The recon drone rumbled in from the distance and passed over with an earsplitting roar. Jonnie glared at it as it passed.

  “Good,” said Terl, approving. “You know what spotted her and so you know what will spot you now, if you get up to anything I don’t like. Beautiful pictures we get with that thing. Tiniest detail. Get off the truck.”

  Jonnie was yanked toward the cage. Terl had indeed been busy. Several things were changed. One of them was his instructor machine and table. It now sat outside the cage. Terl yanked him to a halt.

  Chrissie and Pattie were tied to an iron rod that had been inset into the side of the pool. Chrissie was trying to massage some feeling back into Pattie’s arms and legs, and the little girl was crying with the pain of returning blood.

  “Now, animal,” said Terl, “I am giving you a briefing tour, so pay very close attention.” Terl pointed to an electric connector box on a nearby wall. His talon indicated a heavy wire coming from it that led to the top bars of the cage, wound around each one, enclosed the whole cage high up, and returned to the box. Each cage bar now had insulator wrappings around the bottom.

  Terl yanked Jonnie over to a clump of bushes. A coyote was lying there, its head muffled in wrappings, snarls coming from it. Terl put on an insulator glove and picked up the coyote.

  “Now tell those two other animals to watch this carefully,” said Terl.

  Jonnie said nothing.

  “Well, no matter,” said Terl. “I see they are watching.”

  With his gloved paw, Terl held up the struggling coyote and launched it at the bars.

  There was a searing puff of light.

  The coyote shrieked.

  An instant later it was a charred, crackling mess on the bars, turning black.

  Terl chuckled. “Animal, tell them
if they touch those bars, that’s what will happen.”

  Jonnie told them never to touch the bars.

  “Next,” said Terl, taking off the glove and putting it in his belt, “we have a real treat for you.”

  Terl reached into his pocket and took out a compact switch box. “You know all about remotes, animal. Remember your tractor! This is a remote.” He pointed at the two girls. “Now look closely and you will see they are wearing a different kind of collar. See that red bulge on the side of the collar?”

  Jonnie did, all too clearly. He felt sick.

  “That,” said Terl, “is a small bomb. It is enough to shatter their necks and blow their heads off. Understand, animal?”

  Jonnie glared.

  “This switch,” said Terl, pointing to his remote control box, “is the small animal. This switch,” and he pointed to another, “sets off the collar of the other animal. This box—”

  “And what is the third switch?” said Jonnie.

  “Well, thank you for asking. I didn’t think I was getting through to your rat brain. This third switch ignites a general charge in the cage that you do not know the location of and that will blow up the whole lot.”

  Terl was smiling behind his faceplate, his amber eyes slitted, flickering, watching Jonnie.

  At length he continued. “This control box is always on my person. There are also two other remotes in places you don’t know about. Now, is all that very clear to you?”

  “It’s clear to me,” said Jonnie, repressing his shaking anger, “that one of the horses can come over and get electrocuted. It’s also clear that you could accidentally trip those controls.”

  “Animal, we are standing here jabbering and omitting the fact that I have truly befriended you.”

  Jonnie was very alert.

  Terl took out a metal cutter and snipped off Jonnie’s collar. He then mockingly handed him its remains and the leash.

  “Run around,” said Terl. “Feel liberty. Frisk!”

  Terl moved off and started picking up some odds and ends of tools he had strewn about while working. The stench of the electrocuted coyote was rank in the air.

  “And what do I pay for this?” said Jonnie.

  Terl came back. “Animal, you must have realized by now—in spite of your rat brain—that your best course is to cooperate with me.”