Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000

by L. Ron Hubbard

  Jonnie shook hands. They would bow! So he bowed and this pleased the Chinese enormously.

  “Speaking of languages,” said the coordinator, “they had a little show for you. They’re all over there, so would you see it now?”

  Jonnie glanced a bit uneasily at the sky. An escort was up there, very alert. He himself was not too far from the plane. He sent the German over to stand by his. Yes, he’d see the show. He felt bad; all their banners were on the ground, their musical instruments upside down in the turf.

  About eighty people in reddish yellow robes were sitting now in precise rows. They were some of Chief Monk Ananda’s people. As Jonnie approached he could see that they were anywhere from eight years old to fifty. They all had shaved heads. They were boys, girls, men and women. They were trying to be very solemn as they sat with legs folded under them, but a gleam of mischief was in their eyes. An old monk was standing in front of them with a long scroll.

  “We had trouble last spring,” said the coordinator. “Nobody, absolutely nobody, could talk to these people. Not in India or Ceylon—that’s an island—or anywhere could we find any trace at all of the Tibetan language or this one. We really looked. But we solved it. Listen!” He gave a signal to the old monk.

  The Buddhist read a line from the scroll. The whole group sang out as one, a singsong, but not a repeat.

  It was Psychlo!

  The old monk read another line.

  The group sang out the translation in Psychlo.

  Jonnie was incredulous. The performance went right on, singsonging along.

  “He’s reading a language that was once called ‘Pali,’” whispered the coordinator. “It’s the original language in which the canons of Buddhism were written. The monastery for some reason had in its possession a huge library of all the quoted tenets and words of Gautama Siddhartha Buddha, the man who started that religion about thirty-six hundred years ago. And they are literate in that language. But it is extinct. So we got a Chinko—”

  “—instruction machine,” finished Jonnie, “and taught them Psychlo from scratch!”

  “And they converted it back to Pali! That Psychlo minesite down there is pretty smashed, but it had a dictionary and some other books in a fireproof safe, and they’ve been going like a racehorse ever since. So we can talk to them.”

  The singsong was going on. They were speaking with a Chinko accent, just like Jonnie and the pilots!

  “You like that, Lord Jonnie?” said Chief Monk Ananda in Psychlo. “They not only sing it out, they also talk it really well.”

  Jonnie applauded them loudly and they cheered. He knew what he was going to propose here.

  “Is this all of them?” said Jonnie.

  No, there were about forty more, but it was quite a scramble down here from the monastery. It took ropes and climbing skill and help from the Sherpas.

  The idea of a religious teacher’s words of peace, as he had heard them in that singsong, being put into Psychlo, where all such sentiments went unused, was marvelous to Jonnie.

  Some musicians had recovered their instruments and began to play on small horns and long horns and drums. Some women had gotten fires going and their slight amounts of food were being warmed.

  The pilots came back from the minesite with an ore carrier. Jonnie got massive amounts of help, and they manhandled the patrolcraft into the big plane and put the Tolnep in it, very securely strapped down.

  “There’s a lot of aircraft down there,” said Jonnie’s copilot. “The Scots that hit it must have set off an explosion in the compound. They must have blown the breathe-gas—the domes are scattered in pieces over about five acres. They didn’t bother to blow up the ammunition and fuel dumps. The hangars are on a lower level. There are about eighty or ninety battle planes in there. Some are singed but they look all right. There’s a lot of tanks and machinery. And there are about fifty of these ore carriers, Lord knows why. Bunch of shop and storehouse material. Looks like they shipped a lot of bauxite from here. No live Psychlos.”

  Jonnie made up his mind. He went to his plane and put the radio on planetary. He called the American base—Dunneldeen.

  Jonnie remembered Dunneldeen’s joke. “You didn’t know I had fifteen daughters. It’s quite urgent they wed.”

  “Got it,” said Dunneldeen and broke the connection.

  Jonnie knew he would have fifteen pilots—even though not all were graduated—within the next ten or twelve hours. Dunneldeen knew where he was.

  The reception had gotten going now. People were over their shock. They were serving food. They were smiling as they passed him. More bows.

  Two escort planes were aloft. Jonnie’s and the third plane were ready to scramble.

  Evening had come and they had found enough wood to make a fire. But an enemy would show on a viewscreen up in the sky.

  They made speeches. They were grateful to Jonnie many times and he was a welcome guest. Then it was Jonnie’s turn.

  He was flanked by a coordinator who knew Chinese and a monk who also knew Sherpa. Jonnie had to speak in English for the Chinese-speaking coordinator and in Psychlo for the monk, and the monk had to translate into Sherpa or Tibetan or whatever it was so it took a bit of time waiting. But not too much.

  After some pleasant responses to their speeches, Jonnie got right down to it. “I can’t leave you here,” he said and pointed at the sky. “And you can’t leave any you have left at home.”

  Oh, they surely agreed with that!

  Jonnie looked at their firelit faces as they sat in their different groups. “It is cold in these mountains.” They certainly agreed with that, particularly the Chinese. “There apparently isn’t much food.” Oh, he was so very right; Lord Jonnie was very perceptive and he knew how thin their children were. “There are ways you can help. Ways you can help to defeat the Psychlos, possibly forever, if they come back. Ways you can help defeat the aliens in the sky.”

  One could have heard a snowflake fall, it was so still. He thought they hadn’t understood him. He opened his mouth to repeat. And this orderly throng became totally disorderly. Forgotten were manners. They surged forward; they pressed so tightly close to him he had to stand up.

  Only one eager question was being roared at him now in at least three tongues. “How? How can we help?”

  These beaten people, these ragged, starved remnants of once-great nations had not really dreamed they could be of value. That they could assist. That they might have a role to play besides to hide and starve. It was a mind-shattering thought. To help.

  The coordinators and chiefs somehow got them back in their places around the fire but they couldn’t sit down. They were too excited.

  When Jonnie could speak again, it was into a new stillness. But he suddenly realized he might have more audience than he intended. Could the visitors upstairs monitor this? Probably. He held a hurried consultation, low-voiced, with a senior coordinator. Yes, the man whispered back. There was a large hall beneath the palace. It had been cleaned out.

  Jonnie spoke to Chief Monk Ananda. Wild-eyed with excitement, the Buddhists went into the hall. Jonnie got a mine light from the plane. He closed the door. This was an atmosphere they loved.

  Jonnie spoke to them very quietly. They spoke Psychlo. They spoke Pali, a dead language. They also spoke some tongue known as Tibetan. Yes! they whispered back. Jonnie told them he would see their library was flown out to a safe place. They could have a deep section of the Russian base for it and their temple. But were they afraid of heights? They laughed; that was a silly question to ask mountain people. Did they mind being scattered all over the globe and living with other tribes? No, no. That was fine. They were not really withdrawn from the world just because they lived in a monastery. They had to live in the caves because of danger.

  He told them what a communicator was. If people gave them a message in Psychlo, they could put it on the radio in Pali and the Buddhist at the other end could put it back into Psychlo. And the enemies upstairs would never u
nderstand. They thought it was marvelous. A whole worldwide Pali-speaking network. Yes, yes, yes!

  But now there was a sobering thought. At some time, one of them might be captured and made to give messages. And if so, they would give the message in Tibetan, and that was their secret. It was dangerous.

  All life was dangerous. They accepted, every man, woman and child of them, and accepted for the ones at home too! Jonnie tried to tell them their pay would be a credit a day, which was fair pay in most tribes, but he didn’t get a chance. They would go and that was that. And they knew it was secret and they would tell nobody. They even tiptoed out the door.

  The next were the Sherpas. There was a lot of hunting to be done; there were even occasional peaks to climb elsewhere. There were huge plains in Russia, teeming with sheep and cattle. There was an awful lot of meat drying and preserving to be done. Could they, all of them, go to Russia and help stock that base with food? Food? They themselves were starving. Yes, indeed, they would hunt and stock the base with food.

  Then Chief Chong-won brought in his people. Secrecy was a breath of life to them. Jonnie began by telling them there was a place that was not too healthy, that had a fly that carried a sickness, but proper precautions and nets could handle it. There were also savage beasts, but there would be armed guards and they too could learn to shoot. Insects? Beasts? They didn’t care about those! Where was this place? What did he want them to do? They would leave right away. Was it a far walk?

  Jonnie told them they would go by plane. But there was another thing. Although the place was a mile high, it could be hot there.

  Hot? A place that was hot? How marvelous! How absolutely marvelous! Who cared how hot?

  Jonnie asked them whether they could build things. They proudly told him they had kept up their studies. Some of them were engineers. They could build anything.

  Now all this was very secret, said Jonnie, but he had a place near a large power dam that had to be cleared up and cleaned out and the hills dug into and bunkers made. They would get technical assistance. They would even get machines and operators and could themselves learn—

  They had eight trainees over in America right now learning about machines! Why were they delaying here talking? Where was this place?

  Jonnie told them they would get a credit a day each and bonuses for completions. And they could have land afterward.

  Chief Chong-won asked the people whether they agreed. And they thought he was just delaying things. Of course they agreed!

  Jonnie returned to the celebration. But it was not a celebration now. Little groups had their heads together working it all out but whispering and in incomprehensible tongues. Jonnie told them good night and they all faced him and bowed and he bowed back.

  En route to pass the night in his plane, just in case, he stopped by the ore carrier where the Tolnep lay. He had an impulse to call Half-Captain Rogodeter Snowl and chew on him. But he didn’t. Let the half-captain stew. That was a future battle.

  5

  In Scotland, Jonnie delayed a meeting with the chiefs as long as he could. He was expecting disks and further progress from America. But Glencannon had not arrived.

  Finally, Robert the Fox, who had come up for the meeting from Africa, told him the chiefs were getting restless so Jonnie accompanied him.

  The house Chrissie had found was just by Castle Rock and it was only a short walk. They didn’t talk en route, eyeing the overcast sky above them.

  Two gillies armed with Lochaber axes and blast rifles let them into the entrance of an underground passage. The chiefs had found the remains of powder magazines and air-raid shelters from some ancient wars and had suspended reconstruction of their parliament house and had refurbished the deep caverns instead. Mine lights burned in niches and cast the shadows of clan banners upon the domed roof.

  The chiefs were all there. They had been there for hours. But they gathered around and shook Jonnie’s hand and clapped him on the back. Finally the chief of Clanfearghus brought the meeting to order.

  Robert the Fox played them some disks of the radio telescope intercepts. Aside from other items in them, the chiefs were amazed at the dissimilarity of faces in the combined force. They were also very interested in a game these creatures were playing by viewscreen: one of Robert’s prisoners had identified it as “klepp.” Each player had a board of six sides and six different sets of pieces, and when one of them made a move, the other players would make the same move on their boards. The pieces were little spaceships and tanks and marines and soldiers, and they had different movements and were held down magnetically to a board of 616 hexagons. It wasn’t the game that interested the chiefs but the fact that the announced stakes were different items of loot from this planet. It sobered them.

  Then Robert told them about infrabeams and that it would be unwise to discuss things out in the open. Sir Robert had gotten a full description of them from a Hockner prisoner. If you had to talk in the open you should turn on an “interference generator,” but they didn’t have those.

  The chiefs tried to pass a motion to forbid talking in the open air or telling people things they would then discuss in the open. It was also proposed that they begin a campaign with the slogan “The Enemy Has Long Ears.” But the chief of the Argylls took the floor and informed them that they could not pass legislation affecting all tribes because they were not the government of all tribes—that was located over in America, even though they would be at war with it eventually. What they proposed was usurpation of the powers of state.

  This was Jonnie’s cue. He got up and reminded them that the first government actions had been taken by them up in the Highlands, beside the lake and in the meadow, that they were the original legislative body. They must preserve the semblance of a government in America and not act as though that government didn’t exist, for this would ruin his plans. But action must be taken to protect the people of the planet. This ruling body here controlled the World Federation for the Unification of the Human Race. He was sure that body would take their orders and ignore those from America. They could call their orders “Federation Orders” and they would be international in effect.

  “Hear, hear!” said Sir Andrew MacNulty, head of the Federation.

  Dunneldeen, continued Jonnie, was a titular prince of Scotland, named, he thought, after this very Rock, Dunedin. He controlled the pilots or could control them—

  “Dunneldeen and you control the pilots,” the chief of the Campbells corrected him.

  Jonnie told them that this legislative body controlled the pilots. And the war chief of Scotland controlled all effective troops—omitting only the Brigantes. So in actual truth, it was this body that controlled the planet. If his argument prevailed with them they should pass confidential resolutions to this effect and then make dispositions as they saw fit.

  They discussed it a bit and then so resolved it. Sir Andrew MacNulty was to carry out their wishes with the tribes, Sir Robert was to execute their directives in the military sector. And due to the peculiarities of the situation, orders from the American governing body were to be ignored without creating suspicion. The American body had supported enemies of Scotland, enemies with whom Scotland had a blood feud. The present emergency required emergency actions.

  It was what Jonnie wanted.

  Sir Robert then got up and described the spread-out character of the few people remaining on the planet and put forth the principle that one must collect the population into a minimum number of strong points that could be defended. He had a plan that would do this.

  They wanted a summary of the situation as the MacTyler saw it. Since the MacTyler was part of and a member of every clan and for innumerable other reasons, his estimate would be valued.

  Jonnie privately had hoped to have further word from America before meeting such a question. So much depended on what Terl was doing, and there seemed to be a long blank period in which he had heard nothing. He was not going to give some of the data he needed to this body anyway, f
or he wanted no chance of leaks. But this body had quite a role to play.

  He rose and told them (a) they did not know for certain what had happened to Psychlo and there was some possibility of a counterattack; (b) the visitors were a heavy threat—he did not know why they were holding off and it was worrisome, but they were buying time with it and must be ready and should work fast; and (c) the primary concern was the preservation of the people of Earth—they were not just endangered as a race; they could quite abruptly become extinct.

  They thanked him and passed Sir Robert’s plan. They were very sober.

  There was other business.

  They called in Dr. Allen who was deeply involved with Federation tribal movements. In his opinion it was a danger to combine tribes and bring them too close together, due to the fact that their immunities to various diseases might have diminished. The tribes had long been separated from one another and epidemics of smallpox or typhoid fever and other diseases could occur. He had several assistants. He had been flying about doing what he could. He had read all available man-texts on vaccination, inoculation, sanitation, insect control and such matters, and they had prepared serums. He wanted two measures: the first was compulsory isolation of every person who seemed to have signs of illness; the second was compulsory inoculation and vaccination. He was getting excellent cooperation from coordinators and tribal chiefs but he wanted his program made official.

  The chiefs passed it as a Federation Directive with their approval, and the order was to be issued by Sir Andrew MacNulty.

  Then MacAdam of the Planetary Bank was ushered in. He had requested an audience with the chiefs for three reasons. Short and gray-haired and conservative, MacAdam was very courteous to them and very precise. He had a portfolio of papers and he put it down on the table.