t has been a millennium since the Psychlos landed on Earth, gassing the planet and leaving only a handful of humans alive. In the few secluded regions that remain lethal to the invaders, the last remnants of civilization eke out a meager existence. Most of the aliens view these individuals as vermin, but Terl, a devious security chief for the Intergalactic Mining Company, thinks they may be useful. He believes these "man-things" can be trained to work as laborers, operating excavation machinery at dangerous sites and digging out valuable ores from otherwise inaccessible areas of the planet.
Just outside his vast domed compound near the decayed city of Denver, the conniving creature snares Jonnie Goodboy Tyler, a young man who has ventured away from his tiny tribe to see if the legend of a gigantic, prosperous village is true. Using technology from the Chinkos—a race the marauding
extraterrestrials eradicated centuries earlier—Terl teaches his captive to communicate in Psychlo and understand advanced mathematical and theoretical concepts. He also shows him how to drive the colossal vehicles used to extract minerals and, after taking his reluctant pupil's girlfriend, Chrissie, and her 8-year-old sister, Pattie, hostage, seemingly convinces Tyler to persuade a small group of Scottish survivors to assist in the scheme.
However, despite taking every conceivable precaution, Terl underestimates his prisoner's courage and spirit. A game of psychological cat and mouse ensues, with Tyler and his comrades soon discovering that, even if their ragtag band can vanquish Terl and the Psychlos, there are numerous other alien empires—from the money-hungry Selachees to the flamboyant but deadly Hockners—ready to obliterate humanity and, once again, ravage Earth.
Space opera that hits the right notes
In a 1982 commentary on Battlefield Earth, science-fiction Grand Master A.E. van Vogt noted that L. Ron Hubbard infused his novel with "great pulp music in every line." For better and worse, that's an ideal way to describe the author's no-holds-barred, rock-'em-sock-'em approach to the lengthy fable. The plot intermingles captivating concepts and, as writer Neil Gaiman recently pointed out, "un-put-downable" excitement with occasionally verbose prose and questionable science. It's a mix that, although a bit dated by contemporary SF standards, remains provocative, exhilarating and genuinely enjoyable.
Through short, punchy chapters and continual cliffhanging scenes, the adventure faithfully captures the gung-ho, space-opera ambiance of some of the most beloved Golden Age pulp magazine serials. Terl is an appealing villain, blending malevolence with cruel humor as he incessantly seeks to gain "leverage" over enemies and allies, while Tyler and his diverse companions, albeit rather one-dimensional, are likable and resolutely heroic. Hubbard does over-elaborate in some sequences, yet the far-reaching action—stretching from the Rocky Mountains and the Scottish highlands to the jungles of Africa and beyond—rarely slows down, taking several unexpected turns before coming to a stirring and satisfying conclusion.
There's no new analytical or annotated content within the 20th anniversary edition, which is a surprise considering that the story has received both rave reviews and sharp criticism. Such insight would be welcome, serving to place the work in a more comprehensive historical and critical perspective. Still, Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000 is a forceful, fun, fast-moving book that, flaws and all, heartily recalls the consistently thrilling "great pulp music" evident in so many classic science-fiction tales.
