The Hive

by Orson Scott Card

  Subject: Arming marines with NanoCloud

  * * *

  Dear Dr. Benyawe,

  I wrote a rather convincing email to you pretending to be a captain of marines in the Belt in need of your assistance. I was afraid that if you knew my true identity you would dismiss me outright and delete this message. Then I reminded myself that you must be an enormously intelligent and open-minded person who is smarter than my first email gave you credit for. So I scrapped that email and started anew. Here goes.

  My name is Bingwen. I am currently stationed at GravCamp in a secret IF initiative designed to train future commanders. I’m taking a risk in divulging that, but I need your help and trust. And trust is earned.

  Formics are blocking asteroid tunnels with hullmat. I don’t know if that’s classified or not, but it shouldn’t be because we need the best brains on this. The hullmat makes it impossible for marines to reach the Formic warship and hive at the asteroid’s center. The only weapon that penetrates hullmat is the NanoCloud. But there is no delivery mechanism for an individual marine to carry NanoCloud into the tunnels and physically apply it to hullmat. Will you please give this consideration and offer possible solutions? I recognize that I’m breaking protocol by beseeching your help directly, but every warship birthed from an asteroid leads to thousands of lives lost. Time is short.

  Your prompt reply is appreciated.

  Bingwen

  PS: This is not a joke.

  PPS: Lem Jukes can vouch for me.

  * * *

  Mazer was surprised by the alert on his wrist pad ordering him to immediately report to Airlock Three. His assumption was that Colonel Dietrich had arranged to get rid of him. Keeping Mazer sequestered in his quarters was costing the space station food and oxygen and getting Dietrich nothing in return. And since it was easier to throw Mazer onto the first transport out of GravCamp than to actually think up a use for him that didn’t give Colonel Li a victory on the matter, Colonel Dietrich would simply send Mazer packing. Adios. Sayonara. Don’t let the screen door hit you on the butt on the way out.

  Mazer didn’t have any personal items, so he left his quarters empty-handed and followed the directions on his wrist pad to the airlock. He considered going by Bingwen’s barracks to say goodbye, but then thought better of it. That would create a scene. Bingwen didn’t need a scene. Nor did he need another reason for Colonel Dietrich to despise him. Report to the airlock immediately, the order had said. And Mazer followed orders. He could write Bingwen a message once he was on the transport.

  But there was no transport waiting at Airlock Three. Colonel Li was there instead, along with a small two-man service shuttle. “We’re going for a ride,” said Li. “Get in.”

  Li flew into the docking tube that led to the shuttle. Mazer followed. Li climbed into the passenger seat. “I assume you know how to pilot one of these.”

  “There’s not much to it, really,” said Mazer.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Move us away from the space station.”

  Mazer climbed into the flight seat, decoupled the shuttle from the docking tube, and maneuvered the shuttle out into space.

  “This is a repair shuttle, sir,” said Mazer. “With a very short flight range. Dare I ask where we’re headed?”

  “Take us on a leisurely circle around the space station.”

  “All right.”

  Mazer eased the shuttle away from GravCamp and began a wide slow rotation. They flew in silence for a few minutes.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why I brought you out here?” said Li.

  “I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” said Mazer.

  “This isn’t why I brought you out here,” said Li, “but I should start by offering you an apology.”

  Mazer glanced at him, surprised.

  “What?” said Li. “You don’t think I know how to apologize?”

  “With all due respect, sir, you’ve never struck me as the apologizing type.”

  “You’re making me rethink my apology.”

  “Sorry. Please continue.”

  “I knew Dietrich would be difficult. I didn’t know he’d be a worm. I brought you all the way out here, away from the fighting, which I know you hate missing. And now you’re locked in a room, not because of any infraction on your part, but because Colonel Dietrich can’t punish me and he can’t punish the boys. You’re the only viable target. So he punishes you.”

  “I appreciate the apology,” said Mazer. “Any chance of resolving this? Prison doesn’t suit me.”

  “Sadly, no,” said Li. “At least not at the moment. I’m waiting for the colonel to cool. As long as you stay confined, he allows himself to believe that he won. Though what he won exactly, I still don’t understand. His belief that I’m some conspirator in a plot to replace him with Chinese officers is absurd.”

  “Dietrich is a man driven by fear,” said Mazer. “Fear that you were sent here by CentCom to spy on him or replace him. Fear that CentCom believes him inadequate. Fear that his authority will be diminished by having another colonel at GravCamp.”

  “You think him that shallow?”

  “I’ve seen worse,” said Mazer. “CentCom is full of worse.”

  “Those are strong words,” said Colonel Li. “Dietrich might even say treasonous words.”

  “To call our commanders incompetent isn’t treason,” said Mazer. “It’s merely observational.”

  “I’m a commander,” said Li. “Would you say the same about me?”

  “You and I have very different philosophies, sir,” said Mazer.

  “You’re avoiding the question, but I’ll let it pass. How do our philosophies differ? And on what subject? Leadership?”

  “Permission to speak freely,” said Mazer.

  “You’re already speaking freely,” said Colonel Li. “I haven’t pulled a gun yet.”

  “You and I see differently on many subjects, sir,” said Mazer. “How you treat the boys, for instance.”

  “They’re not boys, Mazer. Their childhoods ended when the Formics slaughtered their parents in China. Bingwen found his parents burning in a field. That changes a person. That flips who someone is in an instant. Cruel, yes. Tragic, certainly. But that is what the Formics have done to all of us. They have robbed us of the life we were all intended to live. They have twisted the orientation of every single human being and given us a new path we did not deserve. Bingwen is no exception. His old self ended in that instant, and a new self emerged. Not a boy, but a soldier. Maybe not in training, maybe not in skills. But in his mind. You saw it. Why else would you have asked for his help in China?”

  “I was alone and wounded,” said Mazer. “I didn’t know the language. Or the landscape.”

  “And Bingwen did,” said Li. “You used his skills. You capitalized on a boy’s abilities, meager though they were at the time, to accomplish a military objective. What I’m doing now is no different. These young men can offer the world a great deal once their training is complete.”

  “They don’t have to be commanders to be great soldiers,” said Mazer.

  “Of course not,” said Li. “I don’t assume they’ll all achieve command. Nak and Jianjun are followers, for example. Perhaps they might learn to be excellent intelligence officers one day. With some pushing they might even lead an intelligence agency.”

  “They can also be useful as loving husbands and fathers,” said Mazer. “Contributors in their communities. There’s greatness in that as well.”

  Li rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend to be sentimental, Mazer. Someone must always lead. If we don’t control who receives that position of power, it will be someone we wish wasn’t there. And then it won’t matter how many good fathers and husbands the community has. When the seat of power is filled with a tyrant, everyone suffers.”

  “Is that your end game?” Mazer said. “Putting one of these boys on a throne?”

  “The world no longer believes in kings and queens, Mazer. At least not as rulin
g governors. But we do have our share of leaders like them. What is the Hegemon, if not a king? What is the Strategos, if not a king? The Polemarch? Different names, different duties, all with checks and balances, but monarchs all the same. Colonel Dietrich fancies himself a king. GravCamp is his fiefdom. He rules with an iron fist because he’s an imbecile and has no concept of command. Is that who you want leading us in the future, Mazer? Men like Dietrich? Men who know nothing of leadership? Whose only concern is self-preservation? Who will step on the back of anyone to ascend to a position of power? If that’s what you want, then you’re in luck, because the Fleet is flooded with such men. We have them by the hundreds, by the thousands, maybe.”

  “We have good commanders as well,” said Mazer.

  Colonel Li nodded. “Some, yes. But not nearly enough. You know I’m right. The only good apples are at the junior officer level. That’s why you created the backchannel intranet, to give those junior officers a voice and a means for sharing decent ideas, rather than having their ideas beaten down, dismissed, or ignored by self-serving superiors. You’ve seen it your entire career. So have I. Vaganov treated you like trash for his own gain, and the Fleet made him a rear admiral. There are rumors that he’s being considered as a replacement for the Polemarch. A horrifying thought, wouldn’t you agree? And yet such horrifying considerations are bandied about every day in the halls of CentCom.”

  Mazer didn’t respond. Vaganov as Polemarch? Horrifying was an understatement.

  “There are people jockeying for positions, Mazer. Dangerous people. People who do not deserve to hold a mop, much less an admiralship, or the Hegemony. God preserve us if they get those positions. And while the rest of us sit back in shock at our misfortune at being led by such fools, the Formics will win this war. Then it won’t matter who sits on any throne, because the Formics will wipe us all out. So you may disagree with my tactics, Mazer. You may shudder at my methods. But in the end, you know I’m right. Who would you rather have directing you in battle? Vaganov or Bingwen? And I don’t mean Bingwen as an adult. I mean Bingwen now. As a thirteen-year-old. Hell, pick any commander in the Fleet against Bingwen. Who would you choose?”

  “Bingwen is exceptional,” said Mazer. “I can’t argue that.”

  “He’s more than exceptional. He has a better mind for war than most of our commanders in the field. Why? Because part of him is still a child. He has an unbridled imagination. He’s not burdened by fear of what others may think of him, or of preserving his career, or of impressing his superiors, or even of failure. His strategic mind, like Nak’s and Jianjun’s, is not clouded with the emotional burdens of adulthood. Children create what the grown mind never can. Children see what few adults are capable of seeing. You may think my initiative of shaping child commanders irresponsible, but one day you’re going to have to make a choice: follow these incompetent commanders into destruction or save the world from their stupidity.”

  Mazer didn’t respond.

  “That’s why the world needs us, Mazer. Because the world keeps making idiots. It’s up to people like you and me to shape and mold the real leaders who will save us from the fools.”

  “You and I have very different ideas on how to shape and mold,” said Mazer.

  “No question,” said Li. “But both are needed. Bingwen follows you because he loves you, because you filled the vacancy left empty by his parents. But hate can be just as useful and influential as love. Sometimes even more so. Bingwen needs me as much as he needs you. My yin to your yang. I can tell from your expression that you disagree.”

  “Bingwen doesn’t need hate. You see him as a tool. As a device. As a weapon to be wielded. Not as a human being. Not as a child unjustly thrown into war.”

  “You’re wrong, Mazer. I see Bingwen for what he truly is far better than you ever will. And Bingwen would agree with me. You would wrap him in a blanket and send him somewhere safe. You would shield him, protect him, guard him, stop him from taking a single step into danger. When all Bingwen wants and needs is to burn the Formics down. To set a torch to their castle and watch it crumble to ashes. Yes, I see a weapon, but it’s a weapon that chooses to be one. A weapon that needs to be hurled at the enemy, not sent off to his room. Did you ever stop to ask Bingwen what he wants, Mazer? Did that ever enter your consideration? Or did your adult arrogance make that decision for him? Oh yes, we adults are so wise. We have all the answers for the ignorant children. We know what’s best. ‘No, no, don’t trouble yourself, child. These problems are for the adults to solve.’ Do you have any idea how offensive that thinking is to Bingwen? How hurtful? How much he loathes being thought of as a victim, as a child? Spare me your sanctimony, Mazer. Bingwen may hate me, but at least I see him for what he really is.”

  Mazer said nothing. Because he realized for the first time that perhaps Li wasn’t wrong. Not entirely. Not about Bingwen’s mindset, at least. Not about what Bingwen wanted.

  “But enough about Bingwen,” said Li. “That’s not why you’re here. I didn’t drag you into this shuttle to defend my training philosophy or to critique yours. You’re here because my superiors need someone with an astute analytical mind. Someone who sees things that others may not. Someone who knows what he knows and knows what he doesn’t. As simple as that sounds, it’s a rare skill in this army. My superiors believe that someone is you.”

  Mazer glanced at him, surprised. “Is this a recruitment conversation?”

  Li didn’t blink. “And what do you think I’d be recruiting you for?”

  “We’re speaking freely here, so I’ll push on. You’re an intelligence officer. Covert. That much is obvious. Either within the Fleet or, more likely, with the Hegemony.”

  “And why would you conclude that my association is with the Hegemony and not the Fleet?”

  “You despise the Fleet and all the careerists who weaken it.”

  “You despise the Fleet for the same reason,” said Li.

  “I love the Fleet,” said Mazer. “I despise the idiots.”

  “Can you separate the two?”

  “If we can’t, we lose this war.”

  Li smiled. “No argument there. This is not a recruitment conversation, Mazer. At least not yet. This is an assignment. A classified one.”

  “The last time you gave me a classified assignment, a team of Formics tried to blow me in half.”

  “And it was the most fun you’d had in months. This, I’m afraid, is far less dangerous fare. What do you know about Operation Deep Dive?”

  “That it’s a third of our fleet,” said Mazer. “That their objective is to target and destroy the Formic motherships far below the ecliptic.”

  “What do you know of their day-to-day operations?”

  “Next to nothing,” said Mazer. “They’re rarely included in the daily reports. I assume they’re still moving toward their targets.”

  “They’re not,” said Li. “They haven’t been for some time. They were essentially routed several months ago.”

  Mazer looked at him, shocked.

  “Deep Dive consisted of fifty-seven vessels. Most of those were combat vessels, but there were a good number of support ships as well. They were attacked by a fleet of Formic ships over three months ago. Seven of our warships were destroyed almost instantly. Three more were chased down over the next couple of days and annihilated. The rest of our fleet was scattered and dispersed. They’re still regrouping as we speak. As an organized military body, they’re all but destroyed. The Strategos and Polemarch are torn on what orders to give them now. Bring them home or send them on to the motherships to complete their original mission.”

  “Why would the Fleet keep this a secret?” Mazer asked.

  “Because it’s a humiliating defeat in a time when the world desperately needs a victory. And because two of the ships that were destroyed were the only two ships equipped with ansibles. For the longest time we had no idea what had happened to the fleet. They’re too far away for us to target accurately with laserline. All we
knew from their ansible communications was that they were suddenly under attack, and then their ansibles went silent.”

  “How could they suddenly be under attack?” said Mazer. “Our fleet was out in open space. They didn’t have any visible obstructions like we have in the Belt, asteroids and debris and whatnot. Our ships should have seen the Formics coming from way off.”

  “Sound familiar?” said Li.

  “The Kandahar,” said Mazer. “Same issue. They were suddenly attacked as well. They should have seen Formics coming but didn’t.”

  “We believe the Formics are now building blinds,” said Li, “or massive structures that are essentially invisible to scopes. Think of them as enormous, domed black shields dotted with stars. Huge pieces of camouflage. A surface so black that it somehow absorbs light rather than reflects it. Against the backdrop of space, these blinds are completely invisible. We believe the Formics placed some of these blinds along the path of our fleet. The Formic fleet then hid behind the blinds and waited. When our ships passed by, the Formics launched from their hiding places and attacked our ships from the rear, catching them completely by surprise. The only reason the Formics didn’t obliterate our fleet entirely was because their fleet was smaller. If they had built more blinds and had more ships, we wouldn’t be having this conversation because there wouldn’t have been any human survivors to tell us what had happened.”

  “These blinds,” said Mazer, “that’s why an asteroid disappeared. That’s what instigated the Kandahar’s investigation. An asteroid vanished, and we didn’t know why. You’re saying the Formics may have hidden the asteroid behind a blind.”

  “Or built a blind around it,” said Li. “We’re not completely sure what happened to that asteroid. But we think whatever tech allowed it to vanish is the same tech the Formics used to sneak up on the Kandahar. And it’s likely the same tech used to rout the ships of Deep Dive.”

  Mazer sat in silence. “If the Formics have the ability to camouflage their warships and hide their approach, the war has taken a drastic turn for the worse.”