Li saluted a captain and gestured to Pipo and Niro. "These two, sir. Orders from Dragon's Den." He extended his wrist pad. The captain extended his own wrist pad, bumped Li's, and read the information that was transferred. Then the captain snapped his fingers at a female soldier to his right. "Two orphans. Car twelve."
The female soldier came forward and took Pipo and Niro by the hand. "This way please."
And then she was leading Pipo and Niro away, taking them up the platform where the crowds weren't allowed to go, up to a car near the front of the train. Pipo and Niro both looked back at Bingwen, confused, afraid, helpless.
What was happening? Bingwen wondered. Weren't he and Li getting on this train as well?
No. A heartbeat later Li pulled Bingwen away, leading him toward the far side of the terminal.
They were abandoning Pipo and Niro, he realized. They were going their separate ways without any good-byes or explanation. Bingwen wanted to resist, argue, question, object. He looked back at the train. The crowd waiting to board had already filled in the gap. Pipo and Niro were gone from sight.
For an instant, Bingwen considered yanking his hand free and running back to the train. But what good would that do? The soldiers would only grab him, and Li would be furious.
Ahead was another set of doors with a pair of soldiers standing guard. The guards let them through. Now they were in a second terminal, identical to the one they had just left--only this one was empty. No crowds. No trains. No soldiers. Li didn't slow his pace.
He glanced down at Bingwen and smiled. "You're angry with me. Your little face is a mask, but I know you're angry."
Bingwen said nothing.
"I didn't give you a chance to say good-bye. You think I abandoned them."
Bingwen kept his head bowed, submissive. "You did what you thought was best, Lieutenant Li, sir."
"And you disagree?"
"You are my commanding officer. It is not my place to disagree."
Li laughed. "You learn quickly, boy. But come now, I give you permission to speak freely. Out with it. No punishment will come to you regardless of what you say."
Bingwen knew that was a lie. Li may not him give him demerits, but he would resent Bingwen if Bingwen spoke his mind. No, silence was better.
After a moment, Li released Bingwen's hand. "I've made you too cautious, I see. Very well. I order you to speak, boy. A soldier who doesn't think for himself is of no use to his army."
Bingwen chose his words carefully. "You did not want to make a scene. A long farewell could lead to tears, objections. A swift separation was best. People were waiting to board. Emotions were high. To warn us ahead of time would have complicated their departure."
Li nodded, content. "A good officer must what do what is prudent, boy. Never what is convenient. I did not give you warning because in war, warnings rarely come. Will the Formics warn us of an attack? Will they send us a holo before they swoop in and gas us? Never."
We're not Formics, Bingwen wanted to say. We're humans. We can still be decent. We can still be kind. But aloud he said nothing.
"Let this be a lesson to you, boy. To coddle the weak is to weaken them further. Will you hold your soldiers' hands in battle? Will you kiss their booboos and tell them there are no such thing as monsters? Because there are monsters now, Bingwen. Real monsters. Monsters who will come in the night and cut your stomach wide open and play with your insides. You do your soldiers a great disservice by treating them like delicate glass bowls. Those children are young, yes, but a lesson in pain will strengthen their resolve. Fear is the medicine they need. That is how you keep soldiers sharp and alive. To be kind, to be gentle, is to lie. That lowers their guard. To be their friend is the most destructive thing a commander can do."
Bingwen almost stopped walking then. If this was the military, if this was how they expected him to treat people, he wanted no part of it.
He glanced to his left; the exit was twenty meters away. If he ran now, if he squeezed through that turnstile and made for the doors, he might get outside and disappear in the crowds before Li could grab him.
But then Bingwen remembered the faces beyond the fence. Their fear, their desperation. They knew the Formics were moving north.
No, Bingwen couldn't run. Not yet. Li was his ticket out of the fighting zone. If he wanted to ditch later he could. For now his only choice was to follow and obey and hope that Niro and Pipo would forgive him.
Li led them to the end of a platform, where they descended a short ladder to the ground and headed north into the train yard. They followed one of the magnet tracks. Bingwen could hear it humming with current, and he wondered what would happen if he stepped onto its wide metal surface.
Every twenty meters or so, there was a spacer in the tracks made of thick black rubber, where they crossed, moving west through the train yard. Soon they came to a short side track where a row of maintenance cars was waiting. Soldiers stood guard, and they checked Li's credentials. Then the chief officer tapped his wrist pad, and one of the maintenance cars floated forward on the track. It was a small, roofless two-passenger car, with a bed in the back for tools and supplies.
"Get in," said Li.
Bingwen climbed aboard, and Li did likewise, tapping his wrist pad with the front console. The car shot forward on the track, smooth as glass, moving of its own accord. It changed tracks at a few switches and then cut west across the northern part of Chenzhou, putting the train yard behind them.
There was evidence that Chenzhou had been a thriving city recently. But now the roads were empty and the factories were still and silent. Tall, concrete apartment complexes appeared vacant and abandoned.