The Swarm

by Orson Scott Card

  He rendezvoused with his crew two days later. The two ships docked, and Ibrahim greeted him at the docking tube, grabbing Khalid’s forearm as was the custom. “Wearing blue now, brother?”

  “And a bit of red as well, I see,” said Maja. She appeared beside Ibrahim and traced a finger down the line of splattered blood across Khalid’s chest, now a dried rusty brown.

  “You have not damaged my ship, I hope,” he said to Ibrahim.

  Ibrahim removed the earpiece and handed it to his captain, smiling. “No more than she already was.”

  Ibrahim floated down the docking tube and took in the interior of the IF ship, whistling at what he saw. “A regular pleasure cruiser, this one, brother. Fresh off the shipyard, I’d say.” He inhaled deep. “Even has that new-ship smell.” He knocked on a bulkhead and produced a heavy metallic clang. “Built for war. She can take a beating and then some. And faster than the sun, they say.”

  “Not even close to lightspeed,” said Khalid, “but faster than most ships out here, yes. And shielded.”

  Ibrahim clapped his hands twice in celebration, laughing. “I told you you were crazy, brother. They’ll send you straight to the grave, I said. No judge, no jury, just a needle in the arm and the kill juice. No way would they let you wear the blue. They can smell a vulture a million klicks away. And look at you, all gussied up like the Polemarch himself.” He clapped again and looked down the corridor, rubbing his hands together like a child eager to open gifts. “Which is my room? The one nearest the kitchen, I hope. Or maybe I’ll just put my hammock in there. Captain of a ship like this keeps chocolate, I bet.”

  “We’re not taking the ship,” said Khalid.

  Ibrahim’s smile vanished in an instant. “But—”

  “The ship has a signature. They’d track us.”

  “Let them! Bring on the whole Fleet. We’ll outrun them.”

  “They have ships as fast as this one,” said Khalid. “And if we take her, they’ll know what to look for. We wouldn’t get six months out before they’d snag us. No, we strip her now, clean her to the bone and leave her to drift. Then we disappear back into the Black, and they won’t have a scent to follow. We’ll hole up somewhere and mount the drive and shield generator onto the Shimbir.”

  “But—” Ibrahim spread his arms wide, gesturing at the walls around him. “Look at this, brother. This is a palace, a palace built on heavy taxes that squeeze our country like a vice. You want to forgive this? You want to toss this aside?”

  Khalid removed his IF uniform, for Maja had emerged from the docking tube with one of his own jumpsuits. He allowed her to help him into it as he spoke to Ibrahim. “You are like the little monkey who reaches through a narrow hole in the side of a box to grab a walnut. With the nut clenched in his fist, the monkey’s hand is now too wide to extract it from the box. He screams and kicks and panics because he can hear the monkey hunters coming through the brush with their heavy clubs. If he would just drop the nut, he could pull his hand free and escape with ease. But the foolish monkey clings to his prize, and the monkey hunters arrive and bash his brains in. I like my brain, Ibrahim. I might even like yours if you used it every once in a while.”

  “Then what did we do this for?” asked Ibrahim. “You said we were taking this ship, brother.”

  “We’re taking what’s of value. The drive system, the holotable, life support, and last of all, the shield generators. We’ll mount it all on the Shimbir.”

  “But the Shimbir is junk compared to this.”

  Khalid struck him with the back of his hand. It was not as hard of a blow as it could have been, but since Ibrahim wasn’t anchored, he spun away from the blow and into the far wall, bouncing off it and catching himself clumsily on a handhold. Ibrahim touched the side of his mouth, and his fingertips came back red.

  “The Shimbir is your home,” said Khalid. “You will give it respect. Now gather the men and empty the Shimbir’s cargo bay. Dump anything we can. Make room. Then organize the men and get back in here to start stripping what we can. But carefully. Damage nothing. This haul isn’t for the pawners and the scrap collectors. It’s for us. Is that asking too much, little brother?”

  Ibrahim wiped at his mouth again and scowled. “Of course not, brother. Anything for the wise and powerful Khalid.” He launched toward the docking tube and climbed inside it, disappearing from view.

  When he was gone, Maja said, “You are too hard on him. I think that unwise.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “I would much rather follow you, than him. Even little brothers have their breaking points.”

  Khalid buttoned up his jumpsuit, saying nothing.

  Maja drew close. Her finger traced the line of his jaw. “A month is a long time to be away, Khalid. Were you lonely and cold in that tin can? Did your body hunger for warmth?”

  Desire began to well up inside Khalid, but he knew better than to heed it. “It was quiet,” he said, gently pushing her hand away. “I had forgotten what a rare gift silence can be.”

  Maja frowned at him, disappointed. Then she turned away and joined the crew in emptying the cargo bay. Khalid smiled to himself. There was power in him now, he realized. Respect. Even Maja, cold as she was, could sense it. It had filled her with desire, and Khalid had turned her away. He had actually turned a willing woman away. He almost laughed aloud at the idea. The old Khalid would have surrendered in an instant. But the new Khalid—no, the true Khalid—was stronger than the desperate cries of the flesh. No, nothing could weaken his will now.

  Four days later, the IF ship was stripped bare of all its essentials and left adrift.

  Khalid and Ibrahim retired to Khalid’s quarters, where the IF holotable had been installed. Starcharts and data readouts hovered in the air above the table. A wealth of information. The entire International Fleet at Khalid’s fingertips.

  Ibrahim was almost giddy. “Look at this, brother. This is the mother lode. With this data, we can avoid their gunships. We can hit their supply lines at their most vulnerable points. It will be easy now.”

  Khalid patted his brother’s cheek, as if speaking to a child. “Of course it will be easy, brother. I am Khalid.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Armor

  To: imala.bootstamp%e2@ifcom.gov/fleetcom/gagak

  From: ketkar%polemarch@ifcom.gov

  Subject: Your orders

  * * *

  I have been informed that Edimar Querales’s findings about enemy movements may be accurate. Using intel she provided, we now suspect that there are eight motherships on approach, four above and four below the ecliptic.

  We have yet to confirm how many Formic miniships have seized asteroids within the system, but we know for certain of at least one besides 2030CT. An IF probe near one of the Belt asteroids mentioned in Edimar’s report returned a visual confirmation. We have since sent additional probes and manned vessels to investigate other asteroids, but no one is as close to their target as you are to 2030CT. Your orders therefore are to fly Victor Delgado to the asteroid in the modified quickship. He will then penetrate the canopy and reconnoiter, gathering intel on enemy conditions, numbers, weapons, etcetera. He will record a live feed, which your crew will relay to me immediately.

  As we cannot send a civilian into a hostile environment, Victor Delgado is conscripted into the International Fleet effective immediately. Rank: E2. Your crew should be prepared to fire on the asteroid using any available weaponry, should I give the order. Make all necessary preparations.

  Ketkar

  Victor crashed into the wall, shoulder first, and grunted slightly in pain. His body bounced off and drifted back toward the center of the cargo bay, disoriented and completely upended. As he floated he rotated his shoulder experimentally. To his relief he felt no piercing stab of pain, no grinding of broken bone, just the slight lingering shock of impact. The armor, it seemed, worked after all.

  He brought his arms in tight to his body and tapped his thumb throttle slightly. The ti
ny jets in the back of his suit released just enough propulsion to set him upright again and push him toward the nearest wall. Victor caught a handhold and paused to catch his breath.

  “You’re not screaming in pain,” said Magoosa. “That’s a good sign.” He was anchored to the floor, watching Victor from below. “But I’m not sure this is the best way to test your armor.”

  “I didn’t crash on purpose, Goos,” said Victor. “I was actually trying to land.”

  “In that case I give your landing a score of zero. And that’s being generous.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d like to see you leap around in this thing.”

  “Can’t,” Magoosa said. “The armor’s custom-fit to your body. Though I’m beginning to think it’s better suited for breaking your bones than protecting them.”

  “Actually it worked pretty well,” said Victor. “I probably would have broken something without it.”

  “You wouldn’t have crashed if you weren’t wearing it,” said Magoosa.

  That was true enough, Victor thought. The exosuit of armor fit perfectly atop his mining suit, but it was taking some getting used to. It was a lot of additional mass, and launching and landing required a lot of power from Victor’s legs. He had only been jumping back and forth between walls for fifteen minutes and already his quads, hamstrings, and calves were on fire.

  He was getting better, though. His first jumps had been laughable. But now he could at least rotate and spin his body in the way he wanted to. He just wasn’t rotating far enough.

  He was getting into position to try another launch when Imala came in and handed him her wrist pad, looking furious.

  “Our orders,” she said.

  He read the e-mail on screen. It informed him that he was conscripted into the International Fleet.

  Victor handed the device back to her. “I suspected this.”

  “You did?”

  “If they send a civilian into a hostile environment the IF would be held liable for whatever happens. They’d subject themselves to all kinds of civil litigation. By making me a soldier, however, it’s business as usual. They can do whatever they want with me.”

  “You’re not angry?” she asked.

  “It’s not something I can control, Imala. Getting angry won’t help. I’m more worried about the crew. Do they know about this?”

  “I came to you first. No one is going to like that you were drafted. They’ll all worry that they’ll be next, that the IF will pull them from their children. We should gather everyone in the helm and hear their concerns. Otherwise they’ll be grumbling behind our backs.”

  “Can you blame them?” said Victor. “The Polemarch has as much tact as a mountain lion. He isn’t exactly great with civilians. He comes off as callous and indifferent and a little bullish. He simply gives orders and expects them to be obeyed.”

  “That’s how the military works, Vico. That’s his world.”

  “I know,” said Victor. “But it wouldn’t hurt him to be a little more sensitive. This ship is full of women and children. What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll have Arjuna read the orders to everyone. The crew’s already a little hostile toward me. I’m getting a lot of grumblings and eye-rollings whenever I give any orders at the helm. If Arjuna reads the orders maybe they won’t grumble so loudly.”

  “Good idea,” said Victor.

  “How quickly can we go?” she asked.

  “The quickship’s ready. It will be a cramped flight, but we both should fit. You’re going to need armor, though. Even if you’re staying in the quickship. No one should approach the shell unless they’re fully protected. I’ll need at least three days for that. Will the IF wait that long?”

  “The IF doesn’t have a choice,” Imala said. “If we’re not ready, we’re not ready. I’m more worried about the crew. They don’t like being this close to the enemy. Everyone’s feeling very exposed and vulnerable.”

  “Talk to Arjuna,” said Victor. “Have him read the orders and help with crowd control.”

  “You’re not going to try to talk me out of going along with you?”

  “I tried,” Victor said. “Didn’t work. Besides, I’m in the Fleet now. I can’t argue with my commanding officer.”

  “Technically we’re the same rank.”

  “Yes, but you’re the captain. That makes you the presiding authority.” Victor smiled. “Same rank is nice, though. Means we can still legally date.”

  * * *

  They gathered everyone in the helm. Arjuna hadn’t even finished reading the orders when the objections began.

  “Conscripted?” Sabad said. “So they can take whoever they want now? We don’t even get a choice? Is that how this works? First they take our ship, and now they steal our crew? Who will they take next? Arjuna? Me? Cojo?” She gestured to the infant harness wrapped around her chest, where the little Cojo was asleep, sucking on a pacifier.

  “The IF isn’t going to take our children,” Victor said.

  “Maybe not our children, but what’s to stop them from taking us away from our children?” Julexi said.

  “If they intended that, they would have done it already,” Victor said. “They could have drafted every person here eighteen years old and older in one swoop. But they didn’t. They conscripted only one of us, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the person they chose is one of the only single adult members of the crew. I don’t have children. I’m not married. I’m the age of most enlistees. They asked me because I’m the least tied down.”

  “They asked you because you have experience fighting the Formics,” Naishihi said. “You’ve done this before and successfully.”

  “Yes, but my point is, they asked only one of us,” Victor said. “If they didn’t care about our children or your responsibilities as parents, they would have conscripted a platoon of us and sent us all in there together. Strategically that would have been the better option because that would have produced far more intelligence than just a single soldier. But they didn’t. Right now they need the full support of the public, and drafting parents of small children won’t win them much support from Earth.”

  No one argued that point.

  “He’s right,” Arjuna said. “And it doesn’t do us any good to dwell on what the IF will or won’t do next. We have our orders. It’s what we came here to do anyway.”

  “We’re not doing it our way, though,” Julexi said. “The IF is giving the orders.”

  “What they’ve asked us to do is essentially what we always intended,” said Victor. “And I think it’s best if they’re involved anyway. We’d be gathering the intel for them regardless.”

  Sabad narrowed her eyes at Victor. “You can’t say ‘they’ like you’re not part of them. You’re one of them now.”

  “The IF is not our enemy, Sabad,” Arjuna said. “There is only one enemy. The Formics. The human race needs to be cooperative or we don’t stand a chance.”

  “We don’t stand a chance anyway,” Sabad said.

  There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

  “If the IF wants to cooperate,” Ubax said, “they can do so without bossing us around. Subjecting ourselves to their leadership isn’t the only way to cooperate.”

  More murmurs of agreement.

  “Why should we allow them to seize our ship and tell us how to use it?” Naishihi said. “We know how to use it better than they do.”

  The crowd all started talking at once, all of their grievances and annoyances pouring out in a sudden flood.

  Arjuna waved his arms. “Enough!”

  The crowd stilled.

  “We have our orders,” said Arjuna. “Imala has offered to give me back the captainship many times. You all know that. I have refused. We need to work with the Fleet. Have you forgotten why they exist? Their only goal is to protect us. You may disagree with some of their decisions, you may not like how they appear to speak down to us, but we’d be fools to spurn the very people who are willing to give t
heir lives to save our home. Now, I’ll not have any more of this attitude from anyone. I’ve seen how you look at Imala and complain about her orders and skulk around and whisper behind her back. Before she took this position she was the most beloved person in this crew. There was not a one of you that questioned her loyalty to this family. Now you treat her like a pariah. All because she’s been put in a position that she did not choose. Is that how quickly we turn our backs on one of our own? Imala has worked as hard as any member of this crew since she got here, if not harder. She has saved our skin a number of times in business negotiations and she has managed our finances in a way like I have never done. She has treated every one of you like family. And what I’m seeing right now feels like the seeds of mutiny. It stops. As of this moment it ceases completely. This is a vessel of the International Fleet. You may not like that, but that’s a fact. And so we will treat our commanding officer with respect or there will be consequences. We are not going to win this war. The International Fleet is. And if they want our help, this ship is going to give it to them.”

  Silence. No one said a word. There were a few obstinate faces in the crowd, but not many.

  Imala stepped forward. “Victor needs three days to finish preparing the equipment. Then he and I will launch. Until then we’ll continue running the practice drills with the laser. If the IF commands us to go in and attack, we’ll be ready. Dismissed.”

  The crowd dispersed and Victor launched to where Imala was anchored to the holotable.

  “Thank you,” Imala said to Arjuna. “You’re a lot better at this than I am.”

  “You’re doing fine,” said Arjuna. “The problem is with the crew. They’ve never been in a situation like this before, and uncertainty leads to fear. Just keep Victor safe. We’ll be ready with the laser.” He gave her arm an encouraging squeeze and moved off.