The Hive Read online

  “There are plenty of people who might,” said Bingwen. “Those two hundred marines died because of this man’s act of cowardice. Every single one of those dead marines is connected to other living marines in the Fleet. Buddies from basic training. Fellow enlistees. Friends from back home. Maybe even family members who took the blue. Siblings. That’s a lot of people who would be angry at the captain for his actions and who might blame him for the death of a friend or a family member.”

  “Assuming these people know the captain was responsible,” said Mazer. “Assuming they know where he is in the Fleet and can create a means to access him.”

  “There are over two hundred marines on this ship who are passengers to GravCamp,” said Bingwen. “Any one of them could have volunteered for special-ops training solely because they knew that assignment would likely put them on this transport and in reach of the captain.”

  “You’ve given this a lot of thought,” said Mazer. “And now what? You’re going to trace the histories of every one of the marines on board to see if any one of them has a link to any of the marines who lost their lives because of the captain? That sounds like an investigative nightmare. Probably impossible, particularly with the records on this ship, which is all you’d have to work with and which aren’t comprehensive enough to give you the connections you’re looking for. This is a dead end, Bingwen.”

  “Which is what makes it the perfect setup for a homicide,” said Bingwen.

  “Maybe,” said Mazer. “But I think it’s more likely that this death is what it purports to be. A suicide. The deaths of two hundred marines is an unforgiveable tragedy. No question. But I think it far more likely that any marines affected by those deaths are focused on the real enemy. The Formics. I’m not convinced that marines would abandon their duties all in the pursuit of a personal vendetta. Not now. Not in the middle of war. We’re trained to be killers, Bingwen. Not murderers.”

  “But there are murderers among us,” said Bingwen. “You don’t know Colonel Li like I do, Mazer. He’s a killer. I’ve seen him shoot people at point-blank range.”

  “Because he considered the people criminals,” said Mazer. “They were committing what he deemed treasonous acts against China. You’ve told me the story. I’m not saying he was justified. He wasn’t. It was murder, plain and simple. But that was in China, under that regime. Do you think Li would try something like that now, in the Fleet?”

  Bingwen shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. But maybe. You didn’t spend years with the man. You didn’t see how he manipulates and controls and devalues people. A human life is nothing to him. He would put people in my path that he knew would try to kill me, not because he wanted them to harm me, but because he wanted to force me to harm them. He wanted to corner me like an animal, so I’d strike and become a killer just like he is. That’s his mindset. A human life is a means to an end. Why do you think he took me and the other boys and started this whole initiative with the Chinese military? Why did he push the same initiative secretly with the Fleet? To make us into the commanders of the future? Because he wants to see bars on my shoulder someday? That’s his stated purpose, but I know better. This is about him, Mazer. About elevating his career. My presence here gives him unique purpose within the International Fleet. This program is his baby. He knows that it protects his career and gets him recognized with top brass. That’s all he cares about. And yes, I think he would kill again if it protected him, if he thought he could get away with it. And if there are murderers like him within the Fleet, there have to be others, too.”

  Mazer changed the setting on his magnetic greaves and took a knee in front of Bingwen so they were eye level. Bingwen might be thirteen years old, but he was still exceptionally small for his age. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation in the open like this,” said Mazer. “It’s dangerous to have this conversation at all, anywhere. I’m sorry you’ve endured what you have, Bingwen. I can’t undo that. Nor can I blame you for being skeptical or suspicious of an event like this. If I had experienced the years with Colonel Li that you have, I’d likely be equally skeptical and equally uneasy. If it were up to me, you’d never have to associate with the man again. Frankly, if it were up to me, you wouldn’t be involved in this war at all. You’d be back on Earth going to school and doing all the things that thirteen-year-old boys should be doing. You certainly wouldn’t be out here in a war zone, witnessing and experiencing the horrors of war.”

  Bingwen politely thanked him but didn’t say more. He didn’t want to reveal to Mazer how hurtful Mazer’s words were. Well-intentioned words, yes. Kind, even. But hurtful, nonetheless. Because Bingwen had no home on Earth. That had ended the moment the Formic lander destroyed his village in China, the moment the Formic soldiers burned his parents to a crisp and left their corpses smoking and charred in a field for Bingwen to find. How could China be his home now? And why should he be there in a school, doing what other boys his age “should be doing”? What did that mean, anyway? Playing stickball? Passing notes to girls? Skipping stones at a pond? Did Mazer think that little of him? Did Mazer think Bingwen belonged on Earth doing such pointless, stupid exercises? Accomplishing nothing? Didn’t Mazer realize that this was all Bingwen had? That without this his life had no purpose? He was here to find and destroy the Hive Queen, to end all the suffering that she had poured into the world. That was his reason for being. His squad was not his family. Mazer was not his family. And Colonel Li definitely was not his family. He had none. He had only his purpose. And for Mazer to wish that away from him was beyond hurtful.

  “I’ve said the wrong thing,” said Mazer.

  “No. I’m just unsettled. Death in any form bothers me. Saddens me. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  He left because he didn’t feel like talking anymore.

  That evening Colonel Li called him to his office. As the highest-ranking officer on the ship, Li had been given accommodations equal to the captain’s: a small, private room adjacent to the helm with a sleep sack and terminal.

  “I wanted to see how you were handling this,” said Li. “The death, I mean. Very troubling.”

  “Yes, sir. Very troubling.”

  “At ease, Bingwen. Don’t stand there like a Greco statue.”

  Bingwen visibly relaxed.

  “You think I did it,” said Colonel Li. “Killed the captain, I mean. You think I went into his office, put a laser through his brain, and then made it look like a suicide.”

  For a microsecond Bingwen wondered if Mazer had spoken with Li, but of course Mazer would never do so. This was simply Li being Li.

  “I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” said Bingwen.

  Colonel Li smiled. “Your candor, Bingwen. I’m not sure if it’s what I love most about you or hate most about you.”

  “I can’t lie to you, Colonel. I learned that a long time ago.”

  “Yes. And a critical lesson to learn. Anyone who lies, whether to me or to his subordinates, is not fit for command.”

  It was one of the colonel’s favorite phrases: fit for command. He is fit for command. She is not fit for command. Everyone and anyone could be measured by whether or not he or she was fit for command. And in Colonel Li’s mind, the list of those who were fit was a very short list indeed.

  “The thought may have crossed my mind, sir, but of course you have no motive. Not unless you were connected to someone killed by the captain’s cowardice. And even if you had been, you wouldn’t risk your standing or command simply to commit an act of vengeance. You’re smarter than that.”

  He explained to Li what he had learned about the captain’s previous service and the many deaths attributed to his command.

  “Yes,” said Li. “I did some digging of my own. The captain was a fool and a coward and had no business commanding this ship. Also, I’m flattered that you would think me too smart to kill him myself. Such high praise for my intellect.”

  Bingwen said nothing.

  “But I must
admit,” said Colonel Li, “your murder theory intrigues me. It creates an interesting hypothetical in my mind. Suppose this captain had kept his original post and still commanded a warship. And let’s further suppose that you are an officer at the helm of his warship, and he is about to make another decision that will result in the death of two hundred more marines. Do you kill him to prevent him from making that decision?”

  “You’re asking me if I would commit murder,” said Bingwen.

  “Call it whatever you want to call it,” said Li. “My question is: Is such an act justified in times of war? Would it not be better to kill that man and allow a more competent commander to take his place, than to allow a crew of several hundred to be killed needlessly?”

  “Murder is murder,” said Bingwen.

  “That’s not an answer,” said Li. “If by taking this man’s life, you knew that you would save the life of two hundred marines, would you do it?”

  It was another of Colonel Li’s tests. The game he always played.

  “I would pursue another option,” said Bingwen. “I would have him removed from office another way.”

  Colonel Li waved a dismissive hand, getting agitated. “There is no other way in this hypothetical, Bingwen, or in the heat of battle when decisions have to be made that will either save people’s lives or condemn them to death. Do you kill the man or not?”

  “Yes,” said Bingwen. “If it would save the lives of two hundred marines.”

  Colonel Li smiled. “There. For a moment I didn’t think you’d see reason.”

  “But then I would surrender myself to a military tribunal to stand trial for the murder of the captain.”

  Colonel Li’s smile faded. “Just when I think you show promise, Bingwen. You demonstrate shortsightedness.”

  “Without respect for laws, sir, there can be no order. Without order, the entire command structure would crumble. Authority would no longer exist. And who would you command then?”

  Colonel Li smiled again and shook a playful finger. “You save yourself with that tongue of yours.” He handed Bingwen a data cube. “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Whenever an IF officer is promoted or a senior officer is transferred, the requests go through a series of approvals. Some of those approvals are done by algorithms, some are done by real living human beings. If this incident with the late captain has taught me anything, it’s that within the International Fleet, men and women hold command who have no business holding it. They are unfit for command. And yet the IF, to its great peril, continues to promote these people. I want you and your squad to tell me why. What you’re holding in that data cube is the service records and full files of every marine that has received a new duty assignment or been promoted in the last six months. I made the request of CentCom immediately after the captain’s unfortunate demise, and they responded swiftly. You and your squad are to identify not only who didn’t deserve the promotions they received, but why you believe they were given the promotion in the first place. There are men and women in this fleet rising in authority to the detriment of us all. I’d like to at least inform CentCom why it’s happening, how it’s happening, and what can be done to keep it from happening. Without the proper leadership, we lose this war.”

  Bingwen looked down at the data cube now in his hand and then back up at Colonel Li. “Are there no privacy concerns here, sir? The squad and I aren’t authorized to review service records.”

  “You’re also not authorized to review autopsy records or incident reports, but that didn’t stop you.”

  Bingwen said nothing.

  “I’m granting you authorization to review these files,” said Li, “and since I know you’ll ask for it, I will send you that authorization in writing. This is an academic exercise, Bingwen. And considering all the excellent instruction I’ve given you over the years, it should be a fairly easy assignment. Tell me why people are getting promoted and being given command who don’t deserve either. Help the IF identify the flaws in its current rank-advancement practices. You want to help with the war while being stuck on a transport? Here’s how.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll get on this immediately.”

  “Also, I’ll forewarn you. The current commanding officer at GravCamp is Colonel Dietrich, a German. You should know that he is strongly opposed to your presence at GravCamp. He finds a thirteen-year-old in uniform offensive to the extreme. He is insisting that you and the other boys in your squad not be allowed to train at GravCamp or, for that matter, to be permitted to leave this transport. It’s a battle he will lose, and I’m taking care of it. I simply wanted to inform you that you will not be well received once we arrive. I’ll forward you a copy of his email, to give you a more accurate idea of his vehemence.”

  “Thank you for the forewarning, sir.”

  “As a result, you’ll no longer refer to yourselves as a squad. That will give Dietrich the ammunition he needs to claim we’re now enlisting children into the International Fleet, which of course we are not. That would be illegal. Therefore, to protect the Fleet from accusations of unlawful child soldiering, you and the other boys are now officially enrolled in what CentCom is calling Commander Candidates Academy. You are a student, not a soldier. A citizen, not a marine. I want to be absolutely clear in this regard. You are technically not a member of the Fleet. You hold no rank. Nor have you ever since you were issued a blue uniform. The rank you held in the Chinese army did not translate once you took the blue. You know this, of course, but I’m stressing these facts again for emphasis. The school is official. I am its superintendent. You will report to me. You will not be under Dietrich’s chain of command. He has no control over you. Are we clear?”

  “Understood, sir. What about Captain Rackham?”

  “Mazer is going to GravCamp as an instructor of marines trained there. Therefore he will be under Dietrich’s command. However, I am securing authorization for him to help with the academy as well. What is an academy if it doesn’t have any teachers?”

  “Agreed, sir.”

  “This means, of course, that Mazer will be placed in the uncomfortable position of reporting to two diametrically opposed colonels. I assure you I will try hard not to make his life difficult.”

  “For which he’ll be grateful, I’m sure,” said Bingwen.

  “Lastly,” said Li. “If this is indeed Commander Candidates Academy, as we have now officially called it, we must train you to become a commander. From this moment forward, therefore, you will not think of yourselves as a squad, but rather as an army. And since every army must have a commander, I am officially assigning you command over your army.”

  “Me, sir? Why not Nak or Chati?”

  “That is not the response of a commander. The response of a commander is yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  “Why should you be the commander?” said Chati. “I’m older than you.”

  Bingwen was gathered with the other boys in one of the ship’s storage closets.

  “Command isn’t awarded by age,” said Nak. “Ever heard of Alexander the Great?”

  Chati scoffed. “Bingwen’s no Alexander. And he’s nearly a head shorter than me.”

  “Height isn’t how we determine command either,” said Nak. “This is rudimentary knowledge, Chati. Are you sure you took the same tests we did?”

  Chati scowled. “Keep talking, fartface. See if I don’t send you out the airlock with the dead captain.”

  “That’s enough,” said Bingwen. “You think Li is going to give you a shot at command if you constantly denigrate fellow soldiers?”

  “I won’t take orders from you,” said Chati. “You’re not my commander.”

  “Yes, that’s a brilliant strategy,” said Nak. “Demonstrate to the colonel how fit you are for command by being insubordinate.”

  Jianjun said, “Bingwen is the only one of us that’s actually had command before. He led marines back home in China. It makes sense for him to be the
commander.”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense,” said Bingwen. “It’s the reality we’ve been given. Chati, if you want to take it up with Colonel Li, no one here will stop you. But you know him as well as I do. Do you really think you’re going to convince him with any argument about your age and your height?”

  Chati scoffed. “There are plenty of reasons why I should be commander.”

  “Really?” said Nak. “Because at the moment all I see is a glaring reason why you shouldn’t be.”

  “Shut up,” said Chati.

  Bingwen took a softer approach. “Chati is right. There are plenty of reasons why he should have command. There are plenty of reasons for each of us. The colonel wouldn’t have brought us all the way out here if that wasn’t the case. But this isn’t about who deserves it the most. This is about us playing along with Colonel Li. This is simply another one of his games for us. And we all play along because it keeps us in the war. We may despise Colonel Li, but right now he’s our link to the IF. He wants us here, and that, as much as I hate to admit it, makes him our ally. Because not everyone thinks we should be here.”

  Bingwen read them the email from Colonel Dietrich that Li had forwarded.

  “Wonderful,” said Chati. “Now we’ll have two nightmarish colonels in our lives.”

  “Assuming we even get to stay at GravCamp,” said Jianjun. “This Dietrich character sounds like he’d rather send us all home.”

  “He’s involved an admiral and rear admiral in this,” said Nak. “I don’t like that. What if they take his side? They outrank Colonel Li. We could be screwed here.”

  “Did this guy say we’ll scurry around like rats?” said Micho. “How short does he think we are?”

  “We’re kids,” said Nak. “Kids get underfoot. Like rats.”

  “I wish I was a rat,” said Jianjun. “I’d scratch the báichi’s eyes out.”

  Bingwen said, “The point is, the guy has gone to war with Li. And Nak is right, with an admiral involved, Dietrich will be desperate to prove he was right. He can’t lose face with an admiral. So Dietrich will be looking for any excuse to justify his assessment of us as goof-off punks and get rid of us. Which means we need to be better than any platoon that’s training there. We need to be smarter and faster and more unified than every group of marines that man knows. We have to show him we belong in this army because he’ll be gathering all the evidence he can to prove to his superiors that we don’t. And if he wins, we go home. Is that what any of you want? Do you want to go home, Nak?”