"The purpose of education is not to get the child to think. It is to get them to accept the facts."
Edwin Lau, teacher, Beijing Education Centre 226
Starship Troopers: Miner Disruption
Chapter 17: Blessed Be the Children
26 years old, and Sonia Liang was back at school.
Not as a student, granted, but not, on the other hand, as a teacher. Standing in one of the classrooms of Douglas Hampstead Boarding School, she was, in fact, standing by the door of the dimmed room, as thirty-seven students sat at their desks, looking at the projection on the whiteboard in rapt attention.
"A world that works," declared the narrator. "No crime, no poverty, no disagreement. Citizen rule makes the world better for everyone."
Liang smiled as she watched the events play out. Showing numerous cities on Terra, with numerous happy people, all doing their part to serve the Federation in numerous happy ways. It showed seven year-old children marching in uniform, singing the Citizen's Anthem. It showed those same children learning how to use Morita rifles. It showed the justice system at work, where criminals were caught, prosecuted, and sentenced on the same day. A joyous couple, thrilled that due to their service to the Federation, they'd been granted their reproductive licences.
"But even paradise must have its walls," the narrator intoned. "The brave men and women of the Federal Armed Services stand ready to defend against the Bug."
An Arachnid horde appeared on screen, overrunning a Federation firebase on some nondescript world. Some of the children whimpered, while others drew forward in rapt attention, as Bugs tore through the Federal defences.
"To defend our worlds, and push on into their domains," declared the narrator. and ensure prosperity and security for all humanity."
Most, but not all, of the children were glued to the projection. It was one thing to show them the paradise of a world that most of them would never see, another to show them the Fleet and Infantry in action – Fleet bombarding the attacking Bugs, and Infantry descending to finish the job. Because if there was a universal constant in the human condition, it was a need for violence, Liang reflected. And the film that the children were being shown had plenty of it.
Great warships in the skies of alien worlds. Dropships descending from their guts, like angels from on high, as Bug plasma rose to meet them.
Troopers, backed up by Marauder walkers. Some in standard BDUs, others in power armour. Holding the line, before advancing. Bugs being slaughtered by the thousands.
Victory for the Federation, as five troopers moved a flagpole into position, the Eagle flying high over a former Arachnid world.
Some of the footage was real. Some of it was staged. A veteran of eight years, Liang could tell which was which. She could tell First and Second Klendathu apart, and recognise the killing fields of Tango Urilla. She could tell what footage had been obtained from the jungles of Sirius III directly, and which had been shot in the Amazon as an stand-in. She could tell when a Marauder Mk. II was real, and when it wasn't, based on how exceptional its acrobatic feats were.
As advanced as the Mk. II was, summersaults in mid-air were a bit out of its purview.
The violence ended with Federal victory, and some of the children cheered. With a fire in her chest, Liang fought the urge to join in.
"Everyone's doing their part," the narrator declared, as he walked into the image in the backdrop of warships and walkers. "Are you?"
No-one answered. Maybe it was the finger being pointed at the children, maybe it was because none of them had an answer. Or, most likely, they knew when to be quiet.
The projection stopped, and the lights went up. Liang blinked as her eyes adjusted, but she could still see Professor Kinshana step out. Smiling as only an eighty-something professor of the Federal Education System could.
"Wasn't that fun kids?"
A wave of noise erupted from the children.
"That was awesome."
"Can those super suits really do that?"
"Is Earth really that pretty?"
"How can I do my part?"
Kinshana smiled, but Liang didn't join her. The enthusiasm was there, but it wasn't universal. Some kids were holding up their hands and calling out, some were quiet and sullen. Their cheeks pouted, their gazes downward.
Introverts, perhaps? Or maybe they didn't like a Federation teacher taking over their classroom for one hour a day.
"Alright, alright," Kinshana said, as she got the class to quiet down. "I'm glad to see you have so many questions. And today, I've got a special guest to answer them for you." She gestured to the trooper in the corner with her left arm, her right missing in action. "Captain Sonia Liang, of the One-Oh-Second Mobile Infantry Division, Fox Company, Liang's Lions." She winked. "Better known as the one who stomped down on the Bugs ten weeks ago."
Most of the children cheered. Many of them clapped. Others, mainly those at the back, remained silent. As she walked to the front of the classroom, and shook Kinshana's left hand with her right, she smiled at the children, even if it was forced. Negativity-bias or otherwise, the kids at the back were taking up more of her attention.
Eventually, the cheering stopped. The children sat. And Liang's attention became less focused on the kids at the back, and more on the children in general.
"Um, hello," she said.
For a moment, she was taken back to her days at Beijing Education Centre 226. She'd spent sixteen years of her life there, and more than once, been called up to give a report, be it in History and Moral Philosophy, Xenobiology, or anything in between.
"I see that you have questions."
Some of the kids were squirming on the edge of their seats, barely able to contain themselves. And yet, her tongue remained tied.
Focus, damn it. She closed her eyes, recalling the sessions she'd had with Suharto. Psychic prods that had caused her nightmares to recede. Taking comfort from them…of the warm certainty of…certainty, she likewise recalled the countless reports she'd given as a CO, spoken or otherwise. Victories, defeats, and everything in-between, to even the highest echelons of Terran Command.
How could a bunch of seven year olds be more terrifying than that?
"So, questions," Liang said. "Let's hear them."
Hands went up.
"Are the Arachnids scary?"
Questions were asked.
"If you're a trooper in the Federation, nothing scares you."
Answers, in line with the creed of the Department of Information, were given.
"Are the Bugs really that evil?"
"More than you can possibly imagine."
Others, from her own heart.
"When can I join up?"
"What's a fox?"
"What's a lion?"
"Is it hard to fly a starship?"
"Why do you have metal legs?"
Reeling from having to explain what lions and foxes were, and no, you couldn't find them on Wallach II, Liang smiled as she answered that question. "Because the Bugs got my lower half, but I still had plenty of fight within me."
"Can Ms. Kinshana get her arm back?"
"Um…" Liang looked at the teacher awkwardly.
"Maybe someday," Kinshana said, smiling. "But I'm afraid my fighting days are over."
"When did they end?"
"Are you doing your part?"
"Have you ever seen a fox, Ms. Kinshana?"
"Now, now," the teacher laughed. "Please, let's keep questions focused on Captain Liang."
Some hands fell down. More hands shot up.
"How long has the war been going?"
"Do those legs of yours come off?"
"Can you show us your gun?"
Liang glanced at the pistol in her holster. "That's…not something for children."
"My daddy took me hunting snap beasts once. He used a gun."
"And I'm sure your daddy used proper trigger discipline."
"I-"
"Next question!"
To Liang's relief, the questions that followed were ones that she could answer.
"What's the sky marshal like?"
"Can I be sky marshal someday?"
"Are there other things I could do to be a citizen rather than Fleet or Infantry?"
"When will Mister Mandela come back?"
Liang, in the midst of answering the last question ("yes"), and avoiding the truth (but good luck getting into them), turned to the child who'd asked about Mister Somename.
"Who?"
"Mister Mandela," the boy whispered. His gaze shifted to Kinshana. "She comes here an hour a day, but all she teaches us about is the Federation."
"I…" She shifted her look to her counterpart. "I'm sure Mister Mandela is happy to take time off and-"
"We heard him shouting in the hall. Something about indoctrination."
"What's indoctrination mean?"
"It means you're being brainwashed."
"That's not what my mum says."
"But it's what he says when he has the class and-"
"Miss! A girl raised her hand. "If you fight the Bugs, why are you being so mean to my dad?"
Liang's head swivelled back. "What?"
"He's working so hard he doesn't even have time to vid with me. Something about long shifts and fascists?"
"We…have to ensure that the Federation gets its titanium."
"But why do you have to be so mean?"
One of the boys at the front swivelled round. "You questioning the Federation?"
"I-"
"If we don't do our part, the Bugs will come back!"
"Exactly!" declared Kinshana. She walked forward and put a hand on Liang's shoulder. "And we should all be very grateful to Captain Liang, and to all the Federation, for ensuring that the Bugs won't come back!"
Many children cheered. Almost as many didn't.
"In fact, why don't we sing Captain Liang the song I taught you last week?" She looked at Liang. "A very special song."
Liang, seeing the look in Kinshana's grey eyes, took the hint immediately. "A song for me?" She asked. "I'd love to hear that!"
The children took the hint as well. So as Kishana began to conduct, they launched into their song.
For the Eagle. For the Eagle.
For the Eagle high!
Oh, you blessed Eagle,
I'll fight for you and die!
From Terra fair to Klendathu,
In space and air and ground.
I'll do my duty every day,
Slaughter Bugs where they be found!
For the Eagle. For the Eagle.
For the Eagle high.
As citizens, for all mankind,
We'll fight for you and die!
The song ended. Liang, knowing how to play the game, burst into applause.
"Beautiful!" she exclaimed.
To be fair, their rhythm was on point, if not their tone.
"That was spectacular! How long did it take you to learn that?"
"Only an hour," said a boy proudly.
"Only an hour," said Liang. She looked at Kinshana. "You must have a very special teacher."
Kinshana gave a mock curtsy. The children remained silent. Whatever their thoughts on Ms. Kinshana, Professor in History & Moral Philosophy, they could still sing a good tune.
I could sing it better. Liang gave a small smile as she was taken back to her childhood. When they'd learnt For the Eagle and other patriotic songs. Usually in class, and how at the end of each year, they'd march on the school grounds for their parents. Wearing their little grey uniforms, while waving their little blue and white flags. Ever in the shadow of Cho and Bai, it was one of the few times when Liang felt her parents were genuinely proud of her. To see their little girl march in sync with hundreds of other children. Singing their heart out to the parents and families of Education Centre 226.
And there was that one time when they'd been allowed to sing in Mandarin. One of the countless languages the Federation had erased in order to bring harmony to the world, but Headmaster Kai-shek had allowed it. It had raised some eyebrows, but the result was a lot of cheering, and even weeping. Especially from the elderly.
Wéi liǎo lǎoyīng. Wéi liǎo lǎoyīng.
Wéi liǎo xióngyīng!
É, nǐ zhùfú yīng,
Wǒ huì wéi nǐ ér zhàn, ránhòu sǐqù!
She didn't understand the words, but singing it had brought her eight year old heart joy. A feeling that nothing, on Terra or any other world, had since matched. Thousands of languages had been spoken on Earth before the Collapse, so when the Federation was established, it had wisely sought to eliminate any risk of miscommunication. "One people, one tongue, one destiny," as the mantra went. Obviously, it was a directive that had paid off, but even so…to sing such ancient words…
"Now then," said Kinshana. "While Captain Liang is here, I thought we'd engage in a special activity." She walked over to her desk, took a pile of papers under her arm, and began to put one on each desk. "You're to write why you want to be a citizen."
Liang raised an eyebrow. She'd started taking History & Moral Philosophy when she'd turned twelve, as had everyone else she knew. It was the one subject that every student on Terra had to take, regardless of any other elective or extra-curricular activity. Also the one subject that you were never graded for. The teachers had given her the facts, but had never outright pushed for the students to earn their franchise. True, there was a silent expectation that they would become citizens, especially in this age of interstellar war, but even so…
A citizen accepts personal responsibility for the safety of the body politic, defending it with his life. A civilian does not.
The words of Josef Neumeier, one of the founders of the Federation, and architect of the entire concept of citizenship, rang in her ears as surely as they always had. But even so, why was HAMP being taught to these children? She understood that Kinshana was but one of a number of professors who'd been sent from the Ironside to Hampstead. The Ironside was a bulk transport vessel, designed to deliver support as needed, and that even included academics who had to bring dissidents back into the fold.
And fair enough, any member of this dirthole who wanted to sign up was welcome in her eyes. But to teach it to children this young?
Did anyone try educating the peace terrorists on Juno Terengai?
She shook the thought away. Obviously the Federation knew best, she told herself, and had chosen the right person for the job. Of what she'd read of Professor Kinshana, she'd served in the Mobile Infantry, lost her arm in the Vega Uprising, and had retired to teach. Be it by choice or otherwise, she'd never had her arm replaced by cybernetics. Kinshana had been in her sixties when the Bugs had smeared Buenos Aires, and while humans these days could live up to 150 years, physical and mental deterioration still occurred.
Kinshana clearly hadn't deteriorated mentally. But physically, her best days were behind her. And even if she'd never fought against the Bugs, she'd done her Federal service, and Liang respected her for it. Especially considering that Vegans…well, under that giant sun of theirs, Vegans tended to be a bit crazy.
"I advise you all to be honest," Kinshana said, as she continued to hand out the papers. "You can't enlist until you're seventeen, so you've got a good decade to go. But a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step and-"
"Ma'am?" asked a boy. "What if we don't want to be citizens?"
Something flashed in Kinshana's eyes. Her grey hair, bound in dreadlocks, seemed to flutter. Liang knew it was her imagination, but for a moment, she imagined Kinshana jumping through the air like some kind of warrior woman, and slapping the impudent brat from his chair.
"If you don't want to be a citizen…then you may write why you don't want to be a citizen."
The child looked like he
"Your time begins," Kinshana said tersely. "You have half an hour. And as a special reward, the student who writes the best essay will win their very own Morita Mark One."
"Cool!"
Liang didn't see who said it. But it didn't matter. Most of the class went straight into writing, the sounds of pencil on paper filling the air. It was far removed from the terminals of Liang's youth, but then, this was a more primitive world. One that, despite its lack of trees, still afforded the use of paper to young children.
Kinshana walked over to the desk, before rubbing her eyes. Liang walked over.
"They really get a Morita?" she whispered.
She snorted. "Is that so strange?"
Liang, recalling her youth, and how her parents had made her join the cadets, supposed it wasn't.
"Besides, it's a Mark One. Last I heard, even the Mark Threes are destined for the smelter once the Mark Four becomes standard issue."
Liang hoped so. Almost as much as she yearned for power armour to become standard issue as well.
"Look at them," Kinshana whispered, gesturing to the children, most of them scribbling furiously. "One hour a day, and in only a month, I've got them eating out of my hands." She sniggered. "Well, hand."
"And how does the school feel about that?"
Kinshana shrugged.
"The parents? Do they know that you and other HAMP professors have been integrated into the curriculum?"
"They might know, they might not. We've had some complaints, but they can't do anything."
Liang nodded, though she couldn't sense her feeling of unease. It was good, of course, that the children of this world were having a course correction in their studies, but…
"What about this Mister Mandela?" she asked.
"Him?" Kinshana snorted. "That old geyser's been a thorn in my side the moment I walked through that door. Bastard thinks I'm indoctrinating his precious sweethearts. Oh sure, he's a good teacher, but he's just so…so…"
"Stubborn?"
"Deluded!"
Some of the students looked up.
"Keep writing, please."
Heads returned to papers, and Kinshana's gaze returned to Liang's. "It's an uphill battle, getting these children to unlearn this planet's indoctrination. Back on Earth, everyone understands the necessity of Federal service, even if you've got some people who remain non-citizens, but here? Peaceniks and bumpkins."
Liang remained silent.
"You know that this school doesn't even have a cadet corps?"
"I…didn't," the captain admitted.
Kinshana sighed. "Bloody lucky you and your group arrived when you did. If those Bugs broke free from that mining site, these people wouldn't have lasted a day."
Liang supposed not. Granted, there was no guarantee the Bugs would have erupted from their site, or that their Queen could have produced the numbers required to take a planet, but then, they were Bugs. Any other consideration aside, they had to be eradicated like the rest of their species.
"Still," the teacher added, "we need all the meat for the grinder we can get. So if this is how I do my part…I'm in."
Liang nodded – partly for Kinshana's sake, partly for her own. Everything Kinshana said was true, and indeed, this planet had no shortage of kooky traditions. In isolation, that would be fine, but they were on the edge of the AQZ, and needed the Federation to protect them. Considering all the people of Wallach II had was a scattering of militias, it was amazing that the Bugs hadn't devoured them already.
But even so…children…
"So I understand you've been seeing Lieutenant Suharto," Kishana said.
Liang glared at her.
"Word gets around. The Ironside's big, but, well, not that big."
"Big enough that you know I've been seeing a psychic?"
Kinshana glanced around the room, before leaning closer to Liang. "So what's he like? Is he as spooky as rumours say?"
"No. He's, um…quite direct."
"Oh." Kinshana leant back, looking disappointed. "Shame. Y'know, when I did my Federal service, psychics were still the stuff of science fiction. Type of stuff you'd get in Lady of the Rings."
Liang smiled, if only for a moment, as she thought of Benito Sanchez. How in light of their last meeting in the depths of Site 51, she shouldn't be smiling at all.
"But then back in the nineties, you get the first psychic testing programs," Kinshana continued. "Card counting, psychic suggestion, and now? Well…you tell me."
"There's not much to tell." Liang rubbed the back of her neck. "I've served alongside psychics before. They're spooky as hell, but damn good in a fight. But Suharto? He's…helped."
Her words belied the raw truth behind them. Nearly a month of Suharto's sessions, and her nightmares about Juno Terengai had gone. No more sweating, no more screaming, just raw grit and dedication. Much as she hated to admit it, Suharto had done his job. Almost too well.
Because surely Juno Terengai had to be remembered.
Didn't it?
We surrender! We-
Liang shook the memories away. There was enough shit to deal with here. There'd been casualties at Site 51, and while she sympathized with the miners, that wasn't to the extent of them slacking on the job. There was a war going on, and this world's survival depended on that titanium being extracted to make starships capable of defending it. Of taking the fight to the Arachnids, to Roku San and beyond, to finally arriving at Klendathu itself, and finishing what the first and second battles of that God-forsaken world had failed to accomplish. She-
"Twenty minutes, children."
Liang blinked. Has it been that long?
She looked around the room. Most of the children were writing. Some more eagerly than others, but writing all the same. In fact, there was only one child who wasn't writing, sitting at the very back. Her paper clear, her pencil nowhere near it, her gaze locked on the desk in silent defiance.
"Who's that?" Liang asked.
"Who?"
Liang nodded at the girl.
"A lost cause," Kinshana said. "A non-citizen in the making."
It was clear that Kinshana had no interest in the matter. And maybe she had the right of it. She'd spent over a month with these children, while Liang had been in this classroom less than an hour. But even so…
She walked over to the girl, not sparing Kinshana a glance to see if she approved. In less than five seconds, she'd arrived at the girl's desk. And five seconds after that, she spoke.
"Hello."
The girl didn't say, or even do, anything.
"Having trouble with the paper?"
Still, she remained silent.
"I know the feeling. They say that those who can't think, fight. Well, I wasn't the brightest student in school, so maybe they were correct, eh?"
The girl's lip twitched. Maybe she found it humorous. For Liang, however, the humour was only half there. Because her words were true, and then some – Cho had always been the brains of the family. The bitter truth was that you didn't get into the Federal Fleet if you didn't have exceptional maths scores. Bai hadn't been at Cho's level, but he hadn't dwelt in her shadow the same way the youngest Liang sibling had.
"Look," said the captain. "Why don't you write something? Doesn't have to be long, heck, probably doesn't even have to be good."
The girl slowly looked at her. Black hair. Blue eyes. East Asian in appearance. If not for the casual dress employed in this boarding school, Liang reflected, she could have been looking at a younger version of herself.
"What's your name?" Liang asked.
"Hikari," the girl whispered.
"Hikari. That's a pretty name."
"My daddy says it's Japanese."
Japanese? Liang recalled what she could of her history classes. She knew that she lived in what was once called China, and there was a chain of islands off its coast that was once called Japan. They were either ancient enemies or ancient allies, she couldn't recall. Prior to the Collapse, the world had become divided into two major power blocs, and after that, a single one. Unless you took ancient history, most lessons in the subject focused on the Collapse and founding of the Federation, and little on the history and culture of Earth before it.
As was proper, Liang reminded herself.
"You're from Earth, aren't you?" Hikari asked.
"I am. Or Terra, as it's sometimes called."
"I prefer Earth. I think it's a nicer name."
"I see," Liang said. "And what else do you like?"
The girl remained silent.
"Come on, Hikari. I bet a girl like you is pretty smart. In fact…" Liang glanced at the rest of the class, before smiling. "I bet you're secretly smarter than everyone else here."
"I am."
The smile widened. "Confidence. I like it."
"I'm smart enough to know that you're indoctrinating us. And that most of the idiots here have fallen for it."
The smile faded. Something throbbed in Liang's head. In one side of her mind, loyalty and devotion to the Federation. From another?
Straight from the mouths of babes.
"It doesn't matter what I write," Hikari said, as she slid the paper over to Liang. "I can either pretend that I want to be a citizen, and fail, or be honest and say I don't want to be one, in which case Ms. Kinshana will tell the others like her."
"The others?" Liang asked.
"Professors," Hikari whispered. "Teachers."
Liang remained silent.
"But there's only twenty minutes left until Mister Mandela arrives."
Liang knew that the girl was a lost cause. Too smart for her own good, yet not smart enough. She was tempted to leave then and there, but…
"You like your teacher?"
But what was a noble goal worth without struggle?
"I do," said Hikari.
"Why do you like him?"
"He's firm. He's smart. He doesn't talk down to you. Het lets me know when I'm doing a good job, and when I'm not. Literature, maths, he's always willing to help you improve if you let him."
Liang smiled. "You are a smartie, aren't you?"
Hikari, as if embarrassed by how much information she'd given, looked aside.
"Listen, Hikari…I know these are weird times for all of us. And whatever you think about the Federation, it doesn't force its people to become citizens."
"But civilians don't have equal rights, do they?"
"…no," Liang admitted. "It's harder for civilians to obtain reproductive licences. Some jobs are for citizens-only. And of course, civilians can't vote."
"Why can't they vote?" Hikari asked. "Everyone gets to vote on Homecoming once they turn nineteen."
"That's…nice," Liang said, pondering whether she should explain why democracy didn't work, and only citizen rule did, and deciding against it. "But…look, I was like you, once. Shy. Smart. Not as smart as you, but…well, look at me. I enlisted in the Federation, and look at me now."
Hikari did. "A captain in the Mobile Infantry who's got two cybernetic legs."
Liang remained silent. Dressed in her uniform sans body armour, that wasn't the reaction she'd been hoping for.
"Don't you wish you had your old ones? Don't you wish you were back home?"
"I…" She trailed off. The answers to both questions was "yes," but to admit it, here?
"Earth does look pretty," said Hikari. "I don't understand why you aren't on it."
"Well, you know how it is," Liang said. "We have to beat the Bugs."
"Why?"
Liang blinked.
"Why?" Hikari asked. "Why do you have to beat them?"
"Because…Hikari, the Bugs want to wipe us out."
"Maybe. But can't you negotiate with them?"
Liang snorted.
"I'm serious," Hikari protested. "You've been fighting them for fifteen years, right? How's that going?"
"It's going…" Liang paused, wondering if she should give the official line, or her own thoughts.
"I mean, have you even tried? Because if the Bugs want to wipe out humanity, they didn't bother us until you showed up, and based on what I've heard, the Bugs didn't invade Homecoming, they just-"
"Hikari, you are a smart girl, but you should really watch what you say."
"Why?" she snapped. "Why should I watch what I say?"
"Because…Hikari, if you say silly things, you could upset people."
"And? Why should people be upset? Mister Mandela encourages us to say what we think. If we're wrong, we can learn why. Or he might be wrong, and-"
"Hikari, you're just…wrong, okay? You can't always say what you think."
"Why?"
Liang remained silent. And felt a chill down her spine as Hikari's eyes shifted from her face, to her holstered pistol.
"Does that even do anything against them?" she whispered.
"What?"
"Your gun. Does it hurt the Bugs?"
"I…no. Not really. You might get a lucky shot, but if you want to down a Warrior Bug, you really need a Morita to do it."
The girl's eyes narrowed. "Then why do you need it?"
Liang searched for an answer. And as she felt a headache coming on, her forehead thumping with every passing second, she found she couldn't find one.
"You need it for us," Hikari whispered. "To make us afraid. To hurt us."
"Hikari…"
"Like you're hurting the people in the mine. My parents."
"Hikari, no-one's hurting anyone."
"Yes you are!" Heads turned to look at the girl, but Hikari didn't seem to mind. "You're hurting my parents, you're hurting their friends, you're hurting us!"
"The Bugs hurt you!"
"Yes, they did! And you're hurting us more!"
"You insolent little…" Liang unholstered the pistol and slammed it on the table.
"Captain Liang, I don't think-"
She ignored Kishana and kept her eyes on the girl. "This is a ten millimetre service pistol. It can hold eighteen rounds. It's little different from the guns people used to kill each other centuries ago, and do you know why? Because on humans, it works as well as it always has."
Hikari, trembling as she was, didn't say anything.
"Pick it up," Liang whispered.
"Wh…what?" Hikari whispered.
"You don't want to be a citizen? Fine. Just pick it up."
"I…I don't want to."
"Liang, enough," said Kishana. "This isn't part of the lesson."
"You wanted me Kishana, here I am. This is my lesson." She glared at Hikari. "I've used this, you know? On Bugs. On humans. Do you know what it means to take a life, Hikari? What it takes from you? What I have to do, day after day, to protect the likes of you?"
Hikari just sat there.
"Pick it up," Liang whispered.
"I…I don't want to."
"I said, pick it up."
"I said I don't want to."
"You need help? Fine." She slid back the firing mechanism. "Safety's off. You can use it. If you think I'm hurting you, pick it up and do something about it."
Hikari, staring at Liang in terror, sniffed, as she began to cry.
"Pick it up."
"Liang, this is quite enough. I-"
"Pick it up!"
"I don't want to!"
"Pick it up! Now!"
"No! No!"
Liang forced the gun into her hand. "Pick it up now you little runt before I-"
"What the Hell's going on here?!"
Liang grabbed the gun from Hikari, spun round, and pointed it at the door.
Children screamed. Kishana ducked. And Sonia Liang, to her eternal relief…didn't fire.
She didn't shoot the man who opened the door. The old, bearded man, wearing a tatty jacket, with tatty trousers.
She didn't shoot the man that Hikari ran to. As she wrapped her hands around his legs, and sobbed.
She didn't shoot the man, who glared at her with a hatred that not even the peace terrorists of Juno Terengai had, as she holstered the pistol.
"Get out," the man whispered.
Liang just stood there. The children sat there. Kishana…didn't do anything.
"Get. Out," the man whispered.
The man…Mandela, if she guessed correctly…had no authority over her. She could put him in his place. Do unto him, as she'd done to others.
She was a citizen. He, a civilian. He was beneath her. She could, if she chose to, be true to her nature, and the nature of all mankind. Humans, as Suharto had explained to her, were naturally violent.
She could have done the natural thing.
But instead, she quickly walked past him. Into the hallway outside the classroom. Under the eyes of men and women in portraits – old headmasters of the school – looking down on her, in contempt.
"Captain Liang?"
The door behind her was closed. Inside, she could hear muffled shouting, as Mandela and Kishana sparred as only educators could.
"Captain Liang."
She, however, was no teacher. The events of the past few minutes had made that abundantly clear.
"Captain Liang, come in."
Steadying her breathing, she put a finger to her earpiece. "This is Liang."
"You alright, Captain?"
No. "Absolutely fine. Who is this?"
"Lieutenant Ashfield, ma'am."
"Who?"
"Ashfield. Lieutenant of Third Platoon."
"I don't recall…"
"I replaced Lieutenant Sabaratnam? Third member of the Fox Five?" There was a trace of irritation in his voice. "Assigned from the Ironside?"
"I…"
"You don't remember?"
"Yes, of course I remember," she snapped, as she rubbed her eyes. "Just…I just…"
"Captain, are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes, I am," she lied. "Just…report."
"Right. Report." He took a breath. "The report is that things have gone to hell at Mining Site Fifty-One."
They've gone to hell here too. "What do you mean?"
"The miners, ma'am. They're revolting. Or striking."
"What do you mean or?"
"Fuck, they've got guns, ma'am! And security's on their side. They've taken hostages, they've seized the armoury, and the rest of them are and holed up in the Mammoth, and they're demanding to speak to someone, and I've talked to the rest of the lieutenants, and they told me to talk to you, so now I'm talking to you, and-"
"God's sake Ashfield, how did this happen?"
"You tell me, ma'am. I'm the new kid."
You son of a… She took a breath. "Have they made any other moves?"
"No ma'am. They're asking for a negotiator. And since Liang's Lions were assigned to guard the site, in a way, you're the best person for the job. I mean, we were trained to fight Bugs, not people, right?"
Liang remained silent. Right now, she didn't feel like the best person for anything. Not for any task outside terrorizing children.
"Ma'am, Captain Bunnerong wants a response from you. He has a Lancer-class missile prepped in one of the Verhoeven's missile bays, and while I don't think he wants to use it, I-"
"I'll be right there. Stand by for my arrival. Have sharpshooters set up at the mine perimeter, and see if the Ironside can lend us some armour. But do not move in on the miners." She sighed, as she looked back at the classroom door. At the two figures gesturing at each other, and the children cowering around them. "Those miners have children and family, like us. I…don't want to do something drastic."
Like you did on Juno Terengai?
"Affirmative, ma'am. See you on the bounce."
The line terminated, and Liang took a breath. Rubbed her eyes, as the nightmares threatened to come back.
We surrender! We surrender!
Removing her hands, she raised her gaze to the portraits of men and women long dead. Looking down at her. In silent judgement.
Civilians, all of them. But wise in their own way. Perhaps one of them would know what to do.
Perhaps not.
Either way, Captain Sonia Liang headed down the hall, calling for her dropship to be made ready.
Minor disruption or major, the miners had to be dealt with.
Through whatever means she deemed necessary.