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"We'll go," said Pipo. "I only wish all of my family was going with us."

She climbed down from the top bunk and crawled up into the bed next to Niro.

Bingwen lay back on his mattress and stared up at the ceiling. He had never slept on a bed before--back home he had enjoyed a thin foam mattress on the floor and nothing more. This was like a hundred of those stacked on top of each other. Yet soft as it was, it wasn't until much later, long after he heard Pipo breathing slow to the rhythm of sleep, that Bingwen was able to relax his mind enough to drift off as well.

In his dreams, the factory burned and the skeletons danced and the flames rose up and licked the sun.

*

After breakfast, Bingwen led Niro and Pipo to the elevator where Mazer had said to meet them. To Bingwen's surprise all of the MOPs had come to see him off.

"Nice uniform," said Deen. "I suspect we'll see some stars on that in the near futu

re."

"Years from now," said ZZ. "When he turns ten."

They all laughed.

Cocktail took a knee, tousled Bingwen's hair, and said, "When Captain O'Toole finally comes to his senses and realizes he's too old to be leading us, we'll give you a call, Bing."

"I'm too old already," said Wit. "You can have the job now if you want it, Bing. Although I think you're too smart to take it."

"School first," said Bingwen. "Then I'll come back and whip your butt into shape, Cocktail."

Everyone laughed and patted him on the back and wished him well. When Bingwen stepped into the elevator with Shenzu and Pipo and Niro beside him, Bingwen realized he was actually excited. It wasn't until the doors were closing that he realized he hadn't said a word to Mazer. He met Mazer's eyes at the last moment, and then the doors were shut and the elevator was ascending at a high speed. He wanted to tell Shenzu to stop the thing, to go back, to give him another moment, but it was too late.

"The transport will take you to Chenzhou," said Captain Shenzu. "From there you'll catch a train there to Wuhan. That's where the three of you will part ways. All of your documentation is on this." He handed Bingwen a wrist pad. It wasn't small enough for a child, but it was smaller than the typical adult size. Bingwen snapped it on his wrist and tightened the strap as far it would go.

"You won't be traveling alone," said Shenzu. "An officer is headed that way. He'll escort you."

The elevator stopped, and they stepped out into a small room with tight-fitting biosuits hanging on hooks along the walls. A closed airlock door was in front of them. Shenzu grabbed three child-sized biosuits and passed them out. "Slip these on over your jumpsuits. You'll only need to wear these until you get to Chenzhou."

Bingwen stepped into his suit and sealed up the front. "Why do you have our size, by the way? I thought this was a military facility."

"It was designed to protect senior Party members and their families," said Shenzu, "including their young children." Shenzu sealed his own suit tight then checked each of theirs. Then he crossed the room and opened the airlock. Bright sunlight poured in, and Bingwen raised an arm to shield his eyes. A small landing pad was before them, cut into the side of the mountain, several hundred feet up. A Formic transport was parked there. When the children saw it they recoiled.

"It's all right," said Shenzu. "This one is ours. We stole it and figured out how to fly it. It will take you to Chenzhou."

Three members of the crew were outside in their biosuits conducting preflight checks.

"Can I sit up front with the pilot?" asked Niro.

Pipo tugged on his hand and shushed him. "Don't ask questions. We sit where we're told."

Shenzu opened the door and helped them inside. Human seats with safety harnesses had been bolted to the floor. Someone in a biosuit was already buckled into the jump seat opposite Bingwen. It wasn't until Bingwen had snapped his own harness and the door was closed that he got a good look at the man in front of him. It took Bingwen a second to place the face. With a sickening feeling in his stomach he realized it was Lieutenant Li, the officer who had come in the truck to take the MOPs to Dragon's Den, the lieutenant who had wanted to leave Bingwen behind out of spite, the idiot who had insisted they leave their weapons in the cab of the truck.

A mudbrain.

Great, thought Bingwen. This should be a pleasant flight.

He smiled and extended a gloved hand. "Hi. I'm Bingwen. I don't think we officially met before. Thank you for giving us a lift that day."

The lieutenant looked at the hand as if it were gangrenous. "Fifty demerits," he said, tapping a note onto his wrist pad.

"Excuse me?" said Bingwen.

"For improperly addressing a senior officer. You are in the Chinese military now, boy. That means you follow protocol. You don't thrust your hand at someone unless it's holding a knife and you plan to use it. I am your senior officer. You will therefore always address me as 'sir' and 'Lieutenant Li.'"


Tags: Orson Scott Card The First Formic War Science Fiction