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"Yes, sir."
"Did you not hear what I said?" snapped Li. "Are you deaf as well as ignorant? I said you will address me as 'sir' and 'Lieutenant Li.'"
"Yes sir, Lieutenant Li, sir. My apologies. I didn't know the protocol."
"Fifty demerits," said Li, making another note on his wrist pad. "You do not run your mouth whenever you choose, boy. This is not the schoolyard. You will speak when asked a direct question or when given permission." He shook his head. "They told me you were intelligent. I see already that they were mistaken. You are not fit for the school they're sending you to. You have the aptitude of a cow. Isn't that right, boy?"
"That is correct, Lieutenant Li, sir."
Bingwen had to practically spit the words out they sounded so unnatural and awkward to his ears. Is this what he had signed up for? Was this what awaited him in the military once he graduated? Toads like this guy?
The flight crew had climbed into the cockpit. They continued their preflight check and then lifted off. Bingwen's stomach roiled as they dropped from the mountain and headed north.
"May I ask a question, Lieutenant Li, sir?" asked Bingwen.
Li rolled his eyes. "The correct inquiry is, 'Permission to pose a question, Lieutenant Li, sir.'"
"Permission to pose a question, Lieutenant Li, sir."
"What?"
"Will you be escorting us all the way to Wuhan, Lieutenant Li, sir?" asked Bingwen. "Or will we get a different escort at Chenzhou?"
The corner of Li's mouth curled up into a grin. "I am more than your escort, boy. I am not getting off at Chenzhou or Wuhan. I'm going with you all the way. I am your new teacher."
CHAPTER 19
Despoina
Lem walked out of his office and shouted loud enough for everyone in the warehouse to hear him. "Can I have everyone's attention please!" The workers all stopped what they were doing. Welding visors were raised, saws were cut off and silenced. Twelve cocoons occupied the floor space. Their main body and propulsion system had been built in the Juke production facility, but once they were finished there, Lem had brought them here to be camouflaged. Benyawe had suggested it.
"Let the team here contribute," she had said. "Let Victor and Imala show them how it's done. It will boost morale. We all go home and watch the vids of what's happening in China, and it eats us up. We feel helpless. The shatter boxes are well into production. The ships in the shield have been outfitted. We're not doing much right now. Put us to work, and you'll win some much needed popularity points."
She had been right. The mood in the warehouse in the past few days had improved dramatically. People were smiling, joking. Instead of giving Lem the cold shoulder, they were greeting him and including him in conversations. Two people had even thanked him.
"I just heard from Captain Wit O'Toole of the Mobile Operations Team," said Lem. "We have our strike team. We are a go, people."
They cheered. They embraced. They applauded.
No, they weren't just applauding. They were applauding him. He smiled, raised a hand, pumped a fist. They cheered louder. It was glorious.
He couldn't bask in it, though. He raised a hand for silence. They quieted. "This is good news, yes. But we've still got work to do. Let's keep at it. The faster we finish these cocoons, the faster we can kick the Formics' asses."
Oh how they cheered at that, as he knew they would.
He gave another wave, retreated back into his office, and closed the door.
He wanted to tell someone. He shouldn't call Des. He needed to begin to distance himself from her. She was getting too attached.
She answered her personal wrist pad on the fifth chime, and her face appeared on his wall screen. "Why are you calling me here?" she said quietly.
"Are you at your desk?"
"I stepped away to answer. I thought we agreed for you not to contact me at the office."
He shrugged. "We checked your wrist pad. It's not being tapped. I couldn't wait to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
