Battlefield Earth

“This was a defeat,” said Jo

“No, no, no,” said the historian. And he told them about a handwritten romance in the university library about a similar battle. It had occurred on a line between two ancient villages known as Dumbarton and Falkirk, at the narrowest point above where England and Scotland had once met, just below the Highlands. “And the remains of Psychlo tanks can be detected there to this very day.”

“That's true,” said Robert the Fox. “I have seen them.”

The historian said, “No Psychlo has ever come north of that point– not until you, MacTyler, flew in your demon. It is the only reason we can still exist in the Highlands.”

“Tell me more of this romance,” said Jo

“Oh, it is quite badly written,” said the historian. “A curiosity, not literature. It was scribbled by a private in the Queen's Own Highlanders who escaped north from the battle. A sapper, I think he was. They handle land mines.”

“Land mines?” said the parson. “Mines for ore?”

“No, no,” said the historian. “I think they used the word 'mine' for explosives buried in the earth– when the enemy crossed them, they exploded. The private used the term 'tactical nuclear weapons.' He goes on about how a fragment of a regiment that had been in bunkers escaped the gassing and withdrew north. The captain, I think, had a girl in the Highlands. And they laid a string of mines from Dumbarton to Falkirk. Psychlo tanks in pursuit hit them and these mines exploded. The Psychlos were not out of tanks or troops. They simply withdrew south and they never came back to recover their dead or their equipment. The romance says it was due to the spirit of Drake intervening, for drums could be heard....”

“Wait,” said Jo

“Whatever those are,” said the parson.

“Uranium,” said Jo

“Aye, it fits,” said Robert the Fox.

The historian looked enlightened and drew his shabby old cloak around his shrunken shoulders. “It sounds like the magic ring of fire, or the geometric signs the creatures of the netherworld dare not cross.”

Jo

“They died like brave men,” said the parson, removing his cap.

The others also removed theirs.

“We just have to be sure,” said Jo

“Aye,” said Robert the Fox.

Jo

Chapter 3

Terl was working with maps of the mountains. He had the latest recon drone pictures of the lode and he was trying to find any trails or roads that came near this deep gash. It was one awfully difficult operation, and when he thought about the animals undertaking something that would make an experienced Psychlo miner cough, it put spots in front of his eyes. The site was simply not accessible by ground travel.

His newly acquired secretary, Chirk, came in. She was stupid enough not to be any menace and good-looking enough to be decorative. She got drunk with economical speed and had other advantages. Her utility was in blocking off callers and shuffling administration papers back for somebody else to handle. Since he was now in reality the top Psychlo on the planet, he shouldn't be bothered with trivial details. Overload the already crushed Numph, was his motto.

“The animal is here to see you,” she trilled.

Terl had hastily covered up the maps when her paws touched the door. He scraped them into a top drawer and out of sight. “Send it in.”

Wearing his air mask and clothing of Chinko cloth, Jo

Terl looked at him. Things were working out pretty well. The animal was on his good behavior, despite having no button camera surveillance now. They had an arrangement whereby Jo

Jo

“I have a list,” said Jo

“I want piping and Chinko cloth and the tools to cut and sew it together and some pumps and shovels-”

“Give it to Chirk. Sounds like you're rebuilding the whole defense base. Typical animal. Why don't you get busy with machine instruction?”

“I am,” said Jo

"I’ll send over Ker," said Terl.

Jo

“So?” said Terl.

Jo

“You've got flying platforms.”

“I think we should have some flying perso

To Terl's suspicious mind came the sudden feeling that the animal was looking through the desk top at the maps in the drawer. It was very true that there were no roads to that place. All carrying, he realized, would have to be by air– and it would be difficult flying at that. But a flying truck or a perso

“How many you want?” said Terl, reaching for the list. “Hey! You've written twenty! And tri-wheel ground cars... three ground cars...”

“The order was to train them on equipment, and if I haven't got the equipment-”

“But twenty!”

Jo

Terl barked a sudden laugh as he remembered the animal nearly going over the cliff in the burning blade scraper. It tickled him.

He drew out one of the blanks Numph had signed and punched the animal's list in above the signature.

“How much time have I got?” asked Jo

Terl was too secretive to come flat out with times. The times actually coincided with the semia

“Two months to get them all trained,” said Terl.

“That's awfully fast.”

Terl took the remote control box out of his pocket and tapped it and put it back. He laughed.

Jo

He took a tight hold on his temper and voice. “I could use Ker to help ferry this stuff.”

“Tell Chirk.”

“Also,” said Jo