“I’m going,” Rosita said.
I looked at her. She still had dust all over her face. It made her look so much older, like the photo of her mother that hung on her bedroom wall. She gave me a look that said,Try to stop me.
“My brother and I will go, too,” Lulu said. “It will be me and Ollie and Rosita along with anyone else who wants to go. We’re the only ones who know anything about the honeybees and we’ll know what to look for. This is not negotiable, Roger. Do you have a plan to deal with the bad guys in Burnt Ends?”
To my surprise, Roger didn’t object. “There is a plan, yes. The danger to you will be minimal, but it is not without risk.”
I raised my hand. Roger turned to me.
“Do we know how many of these, uh, guys are coming tonight?”
“I have been gathering data and monitoring the social feeds. Apex has not published the number of total sign-ups, but there are estimates. I believe they can field a total of seventy-five hundred mechs at a time with thePinnacle, their print ship. Using this knowledge and comparing that to the published map depicting all the assault zones and the destruction already wrought upon Burnt Ends, along with the data gathered from Priscilla’s encounter with the Apex drop unit, I do have a very rough projection. I believe the most likely scenario we will face is that several hundred mech units will be dropped in the area of Burnt Ends along with groups of four or five deployment units scattered throughout the peninsula. If the opponent is not aware of our defense until it is engaged, I suspect our very first encounter with the enemy will be light, and unless we are unlucky, it will not occur for several hours post–first wave, perhaps not until later tomorrow. I do not have enough data on what the subsequent waves will entail.”
Shit,I thought.
“What’s a deployment unit?” Lulu asked.
“Excellent question, Lulu, but you did not raise your hand. Please look at this.” An image appeared on the screen. It was of a round carousel-like device, almost like six vertical coffins back-to-back in a flower pattern. The picture was from Priscilla the scout’s point of view, taken just before she’d gone offline. The photograph changed to a scientific line-drawn illustration. The logo forOperation Bounce Houseappeared in the bottom right corner. The image was labeledMPF-DU-6.
“According to the information on the Apex website, this is how the majority of mechs are dropped and then retrieved. Each deployment unit has space for six mechs. The center section deploys separately as an AI drone that can bring ammunition and repairs to units on the field. There are larger deployment units as well, but it appears they are only utilized in special circumstances. Yes, Oliver?”
I lowered my hand. “That thing that swooped in and blew up the mech we saw. Was that a repair drone?”
“Negative. That was a separate vehicle launched from the main ship. I do not have enough data on this ship’s capabilities. If it is the ship I am thinking of, it is one of four such ships attached to thePinnacle, the Apex mother ship. It is called a Moderator.”
A chill washed over me.
“Yes, I have a question,” Mr.Gonzales said.
“You must raise your hand. But please ask your question.”
“What’s the point?”
We all turned to look at him. The man looked tired, so tired.
Mr.Gonzales had been a constant in my life. He was our closest neighbor; his fields adjoined our own. He and his wife had had two boys once upon a time. The Sickness had taken both before they’d managed to have children of their own. Recently, Sam and I had been going over to help him in his fields. We guessed he had maybe only one or two seasons left in him.
Still, the man was always smiling, always happy. I rememberedhe’d always have candy for us. His wife—the chubby, always smiling Mrs.Gonzales—kept the two rooms of her dead children pristine, as if she was expecting them to come home any day now. She, too, was always friendly, always cheerful. It wasn’t until recently that I had finally started to notice the cracks in the façade—the same cracks that had been there all along in all of the non-natives, those who’d been born on one of the fifteen generation ships, all who had helped build this world from the ground up only to have their legs swept out from under them.
And now it was happening again.
“Please clarify,” Roger asked.
Mr.Gonzales removed his ever-present hat and wiped his brow. His hands were shaking. “They’re trying to kill us. They’re doing it for fun, for their game. The moment they realize we’re not going to play along and die like good little settlers, they’re just going to drop a kinetic strike on us from above. All the honeybees in the world aren’t going to stop that. All of this.” The elderly farmer waved his hands. “All it’s going to do is attract more attention. We’re better off scattering into the forest and waiting it out. They say they’re only here for five days. Why not hide? We can hide for five days.”
A full moment of silence followed. Roger whirred and clicked. “Such a technique is not without merit, but it’s not the type of defense I am designed to facilitate. If you wish to run and hide, I suggest you go home, grab supplies, and get moving now. Remove your bracelet and all radiation-emitting materials. Build a shelter at least a hundred kilometers from the closest population center, one that disguises your heat signature, and do not leave for at least one month past the last date you notice vehicles coming in or out from orbit.”
Roger turned away.
Rosita was shaking. She wouldn’t do that, and I knew it. Neither would Lulu. This was our home. I still didn’t understand why Earth was really doing this, and I feared I never would. My sister was looking at me, and I met her fierce eyes.
It’s funny how quickly everything can change.Grandpa Lewis used to say that. We’d sit atop the barn and eat Popsicles, looking through the telescope at theForlornand then at the transfer gate. Bugs would zip by, harassing us. They’d land on me and Lulu, but they’d ignore Grandpa.Never be surprised when it does. Just be ready.
A console on the left side beeped, indicating the arrival of the grain transports.
Lulu was still looking at me.
We could run. It was the prudent thing to do. Mr.Gonzales was right in that they could turn us to sludge whenever they wanted. We had no planetary defenses. So what was the point of fighting them?
