Earth Afire (The First Formic War) Read Free

Bingwen wouldn’t lie to us.”
    Zihao laughed and turned to Bingwen. “Cute. Your little girlfriend is sticking up for you.” He looked at Meilin. “You know what aliens like to eat, Meilin? Little girl brains. They stick a straw in your ear and suck your head empty.”
    Meilin’s eyes moistened with tears. “That’s not true.”
    “Leave her alone,” said Bingwen.
    Zihao smirked. “See what you’ve done, Bingwen? You’ve scared all the kiddies.” He bent down from the chair, got close to Meilin’s face, and spoke in a singsongy voice, as if addressing an infant. “Aw, did Bingwen scare the little girl with his alien vid?”
    “I said leave her alone.” Bingwen stepped between them and extended a hand, nudging Zihao back. It wasn’t a hard shove, but since Zihao was leaning forward in the chair and his center of gravity was off, the push was just enough to twist him off-balance. He stumbled, reached for the counter, missed, and fell to the floor, the chair scooting out and away from him. A few of the children laughed, but they instantly fell silent as Zihao jumped to his feet and seized Bingwen by the throat.
    “You little mud sucker,” said Zihao. “I’ll cut out your tongue for that.”
    Bingwen felt his windpipe constrict and pulled hard at Zihao’s wrists.
    “Let him go,” said Meilin.
    “Girlfriend to the rescue again,” said Zihao. He squeezed harder.
    The other children did nothing. A few boys from Zihao’s village were chuckling, but they didn’t seem amused, more like relieved that it was Bingwen who was taking the abuse and not them.
    Hopper grabbed Zihao from behind, but Zihao only scoffed. “Back off, cripple. Or we’ll see how you do with two twisted feet.”
    More laughter from the other boys.
    Bingwen’s lungs were screaming for air. He kicked and pounded his fists on Zihao’s shoulders, but the bigger boy seemed not to notice.
    “What is going on over here?” Ms. Yí said.
    Zihao released Bingwen, who fell to the floor, coughing and gasping and inhaling deeply.
    Ms. Yí stood over them, holding her bamboo discipline stick. “Out!” she said, waving the stick. “All of you! Out!”
    The children protested. It was Bingwen. He started it. He called us over here. He attacked Zihao.
    Bingwen grabbed Meilin’s hand, turned to Hopper, and said, “Meet us in the fields.” Then he pushed through the crowd toward the exit, pulling Meilin along behind him.
    “He was showing a spook vid,” said one of the children.
    “He was trying to scare us,” said another.
    “He pushed Zihao out of his chair.”
    “He started a fight.”
    Bingwen was through the front door, Meilin right at his heels. It was late in the afternoon, and the air outside was cool and damp, a light wind blowing up from the valley.
    “Where are we going?” asked Meilin.
    “Home,” said Bingwen. He led her to the village staircase built into the side of the hill, and they began descending toward the rice fields below. Every village in the valley was built onto a hillside, the valley floor being too fertile and valuable to be used for anything other than rice. Meilin’s village was three kilometers to the west. If Bingwen hurried, he might be able to escort her home and then cut south to his own village before it got too dark.
    “Why are we running?” said Meilin.
    “Because once Zihao gets outside,” said Bingwen, “he’ll come finish what he started.”
    “So I’m to be your human shield?”
    Bingwen laughed, despite himself. “You’re quite the little strategist.”
    “I’m not little. I’m taller than you.”
    “We’re both little,” said Bingwen. “I’m just littler. And I dragged you along because you’re my cousin and I’d rather not see you get your head pounded in. You stood up to Zihao. He’ll come for you, too.”
    “I can take care of myself, thank you.”
    He stopped and let go of her hand. “You want to go home alone?”
    Meilin seemed ready to argue, but then her