Battlefield Earth Page #3

How the crap should I know?

There's no way of knowing that.

But before we educate it|on the machine. . .

. . .we'll take it to the mountains|with a couple of the others.

Let them think they've escaped. . .

. . .and then we'll sit back|and watch it choose its favorite food.

Yes.

Look!

Three days, and they still haven't|eaten anything yet.

Precisely. Now that|the man-animals feel. . .

. . .that they have|enough distance from us. . .

. . .soon they'll find|their favorite food and celebrate.

What is it?

Food. Food!

No spark, no flints, nothing.|You, Floyd?

Plenty to burn.|Nothing to start a fire with.

-That's their favorite.|-Of course it is.

-They could've selected anything.|-It's not cooked.

If man-animal prefers rat uncooked,|then our job is that much easier.

If they like their rat so much,|how come those two aren't eating?

Don't you know anything? The leader|of the pack always eats first. See?

We're really going to have|leverage over them now.

What are you doing?

They know about the camera.

Don't be a knot-head.|It's a man-animal.

It couldn't possibly know about it.

You sure called that one, sir.

No way they know about the cameras.

Move your fat ass|and let's go round them up!

Crap, lousy ceiling!

Great. This is great.

What do we do now?

What are you thinking, Jonnie?|Don't even think about it.

You wouldn't live the jump, Jonnie.|You wouldn't live the jump!

You can surrender and rot|in those cages.

That's your choice.|I'm not going back!

The monsters catch us,|they'll take us to the mines.

Run!

How do we know what he wants?

They made me do this before.|Follow me and you'll be fine.

Don't touch anything.

Get them mad,|think what they'll do to us.

Excuse me, but I am your instructor. . .

. . .if you'll forgive such arrogance. . .

. . .for I do not have the honor|to be a Psychlo.

I'm a lowly Clinko language slave.

As you are listening to me,|I most likely do not exist. . .

. . .as we may have been exterminated|like many other races. . .

. . .by the gas drones|of our conquerors.

Please forgive my pretension. . .

. . .as I try to educate you|in Psychlo. . .

. . .the noble language|of our superiors.

You understand?

You understand me?

Are you hungry, little fella? Yes?

Obviously, this is going|to take a while.

Jonnie! Jonnie!

Carlo! Carlo!

I know who they are and where they're|from. I can speak their language.

-Monsters?|-They're called Psychlos.

What did they do to him?

They made him look into a light,|a god machine.

It teaches.|It's a knowledge machine.

It sends pictures through your head|so fast, it's spinning.

Let's go, Jonnie. Come on.

No, I can't. I have to stay.|I have to learn more about them.

This may be our only way out of here.

So this is the monster's language?

No, no. This is mathematics.

This is the unifying language|of the entire universe.

Look.

This symbol is called a triangle.

If all these sides are equal. . .

. . .then these three angles|must also be equal.

Equal to what?

To each other.

It's the basic foundation|of Euclidean geometry.

Seems pretty hard to understand.

No, only at first. And then it|becomes clear in your mind.

I learned molecular biology.

This is the symbol for water|and engineering.

See, a wing, see? And line|and form and artistic composition.

You see, this is a square,|like a cage.

I thought we were supposed to be|working on stuff to help us escape.

This will.

All this will.

Jonnie. Jonnie. Human.

"The security chief should secure|the field vault. . .

. . .with an eight-digit|combination code. . .

. . .and do not use a personal|or employee. . .

. . .identification number. "

What's an identification number?

There.

-How many numbers is that?|-Eight.

Eight?

Eight.

It's more clever than that.

The question is, how clever?

Try the numbers backwards.

Look at this.

It's a recording machine.

This is how he watches us.

Stop! Chrissy, stop!

What if he's not dead?

Hope is an admirable quality,|but foolish isn't.

I can't give you permission|to go and get killed.

I don't need your permission.

I'm no longer a child.

Do you want lunch?

It's obviously too much|to ask a man-animal. . .

. . .to learn a language|as sophisticated as Psychlo.

What if it can understand|and it's pretending it can't?

-What the hell for?|-I don't know.

Maybe it's secretly listening,|trying to get leverage over on us.

Man-animal getting leverage over|a Psychlo. That'll be the day.

What if this one is|particularly stupid?

Maybe we should train another one.

No time. When they detect the gold. . .

. . .the Planetship will know|what we're doing.

We'll have to terminate the operation|and cover our tracks.

It speaks Psychlo.

Go on, say something else.

You'll stay here as my prisoner. . .

. . .while you, you go|and get a transporter.

Because you've learned Psychlo|doesn't mean you are one.

Follow my orders|or I'll have you killed.

How exactly do you plan to do that?

-Mickey, no!|-Mickey, no!

If any of you rat-brains|knew anything about firearms. . .

. . .you would know that you never|store loaded weapons.

You drop him now!

Drop him or I won't mine|an ounce of your gold.

I'll have you vaporized|and find someone else to mine it.

You don't have time.

You can't hide this|from Home Office forever.

A man getting leverage over a Psychlo.|That'll be the day.

I think it's time that we show|our little friend a thing or two.

As long as you cling to|the feeble hope. . .

. . .that you'll ever get|the better of me. . .

. . .you'll be distracted|from more important things.

Which is exactly why. . .

. . .I share the following with you:

When we attacked your planet. . .

. . .all your soldiers and all|their advanced technology. . .

. . .could only put up|a nine-minute fight. . .

. . .before they were exterminated.

Which is why man|is an endangered species.

Everything you humans knew is here.

You can look at anything you want. . .

. . .because there is nothing|that will help you.

Satisfied?

Yes.

I have one more demonstration|for you and your friends.

You will be relocated|to a new mining site.

If any of you get any bright ideas|about escaping. . .

. . .keep in mind that although you|know nothing about firearms, I do.

I graduated top marksman in my class.|I can kill any of you at 1 000 paces.

Tell them what I said.

We try to run, he'll kill us.

-That's it?|-Yes.

Allow me to demonstrate.

No! Wait!

Let's give this demon|what it deserves.

Kill it, I say! Destroy it!

Shoot! Shoot!

Why wait? Kill it!

Kill it. Then we'll run.

Then what?

What kind of life is it to run?|Living in fear of being hunted?

What about those we're leaving behind?

There's nothing we can do.

Only the gods can free them.

You think the lights in the sky|are gods waiting to save us?

Do you? Those are planets,|planets like this one.

The great villages were built by us.

By men and women just like us.

Willing to fight to the death|for one thing:

Their freedom!

Do you think no one has tried?

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