Valentine. "I've spent all these years under your thumb. I know
exactly how it feels. Ender would hate it. I know, because I hate it."
"You've loved the whole
thing. Being Demosthenes—you know what power feels like."
"I know what it feels
like to have power flow through me and into your hands," said Valentine.
"Is that what this is
about? You're suddenly power hungry?"
"Peter, you're such an
idiot about the people you supposedly know best. I'm not telling you I
want your power. I'm telling you that I'm getting out from under your
thumb."
"Fine, I'll just write
the Demosthenes essays myself."
"No you won't, because
people would know something was wrong. You can't do Demosthenes."
"Anything you can do .
. ."
"I've changed all the
passwords. I've hidden all of Demosthenes' memberships and money and
you can't get to any of it."
Peter gazed at her with
pity. "I'll find it all if I want to."
"It wouldn't do you any
good. Demosthenes is retiring from politics, Peter. He's going to plead
ill health and offer a ringing endorsement . . . of Locke!"
Peter looked
horrorstruck. "You can't! It would destroy Locke to have Demosthenes'
endorsement!"
"You see? I do have
some weapons you fear."
"Why would you do this?
All these years, and suddenly
now
you've decided
to pack up your dolls and dishes and leave the tea party?"
"I never played with
dolls, Peter. Apparently you did."
"Stop this," said Peter
sternly. "Really. It's not funny. Let's get Ender home. I won't try to
control him the way you're saying."
"You mean the way you
control me."
"Come on, Val," said
Peter. "Just a couple more years and I can unmask myself as
Locke—and as Ender's brother. Sure, salvaging his reputation
will help me, but it'll help Ender, too."
"I think you should do
it. Salvage away, Peter. But I don't think Ender should come home.
Instead, I'll go to
him.
Mom and Dad will, too, I
bet."
"They're not going to
pay for you to have a jaunt into space—not all the way to
Eros. That would take months anyway. Right now it's practically on the
other side of the sun."
"Not a jaunt," said
Valentine. "I'm leaving Earth. I'm joining Ender in exile."
For a moment Peter
believed her. It was gratifying to see genuine alarm on his face. Then
he relaxed. "Mom and Dad won't let you," he said.
"Fifteen-year-old
females don't have to have their parents' consent to volunteer to be
colonists. We're the ideal age for reproduction, and are assumed to be
dumb enough to volunteer."
"What do the colonies
have to do with anything? Ender's not going to be a colonist."
"What else will they do
with him? It's the only task remaining for the I.F., and he's their
responsibility. That's why I'm making arrangements to get assigned to
the same colony as him."
"Where did you get
these imasen ideas?" If she didn't understand Battle School slang, too
bad. "Colonies, voluntary exile, it's just crazy. The future is here on
Earth, not out at the far reaches of the galaxy."
"The formics' worlds
were all in the same arm of the galaxy as us, and not all that far
away, as galaxies go," said Valentine primly, to goad him. "And Peter,
just because
your
future is all tied up with
trying to become the ruler of the world doesn't mean that I want to
spend my whole future as your sidekick. You've had my youth, you've
used me up, but I will spend my declining years without you, my love."
"It's sickening when
you talk as if we were married."
"I'm talking as if we
were in an old movie," said Valentine.
"I don't watch movies,"
said Peter, "so I wouldn't know."
"There's so much you
'wouldn't know,' " said Valentine. For a moment she was tempted to tell
him all about Ender's visit to Earth, when Graff tried to use Valentine
to persuade a burnt-out Ender to get back to work. And to tell Peter
that Graff knew all about their secret identities on the nets. That
would take the smirk off his face.
But what would that
accomplish? It was better for everyone to leave Peter in
exactly how it feels. Ender would hate it. I know, because I hate it."
"You've loved the whole
thing. Being Demosthenes—you know what power feels like."
"I know what it feels
like to have power flow through me and into your hands," said Valentine.
"Is that what this is
about? You're suddenly power hungry?"
"Peter, you're such an
idiot about the people you supposedly know best. I'm not telling you I
want your power. I'm telling you that I'm getting out from under your
thumb."
"Fine, I'll just write
the Demosthenes essays myself."
"No you won't, because
people would know something was wrong. You can't do Demosthenes."
"Anything you can do .
. ."
"I've changed all the
passwords. I've hidden all of Demosthenes' memberships and money and
you can't get to any of it."
Peter gazed at her with
pity. "I'll find it all if I want to."
"It wouldn't do you any
good. Demosthenes is retiring from politics, Peter. He's going to plead
ill health and offer a ringing endorsement . . . of Locke!"
Peter looked
horrorstruck. "You can't! It would destroy Locke to have Demosthenes'
endorsement!"
"You see? I do have
some weapons you fear."
"Why would you do this?
All these years, and suddenly
now
you've decided
to pack up your dolls and dishes and leave the tea party?"
"I never played with
dolls, Peter. Apparently you did."
"Stop this," said Peter
sternly. "Really. It's not funny. Let's get Ender home. I won't try to
control him the way you're saying."
"You mean the way you
control me."
"Come on, Val," said
Peter. "Just a couple more years and I can unmask myself as
Locke—and as Ender's brother. Sure, salvaging his reputation
will help me, but it'll help Ender, too."
"I think you should do
it. Salvage away, Peter. But I don't think Ender should come home.
Instead, I'll go to
him.
Mom and Dad will, too, I
bet."
"They're not going to
pay for you to have a jaunt into space—not all the way to
Eros. That would take months anyway. Right now it's practically on the
other side of the sun."
"Not a jaunt," said
Valentine. "I'm leaving Earth. I'm joining Ender in exile."
For a moment Peter
believed her. It was gratifying to see genuine alarm on his face. Then
he relaxed. "Mom and Dad won't let you," he said.
"Fifteen-year-old
females don't have to have their parents' consent to volunteer to be
colonists. We're the ideal age for reproduction, and are assumed to be
dumb enough to volunteer."
"What do the colonies
have to do with anything? Ender's not going to be a colonist."
"What else will they do
with him? It's the only task remaining for the I.F., and he's their
responsibility. That's why I'm making arrangements to get assigned to
the same colony as him."
"Where did you get
these imasen ideas?" If she didn't understand Battle School slang, too
bad. "Colonies, voluntary exile, it's just crazy. The future is here on
Earth, not out at the far reaches of the galaxy."
"The formics' worlds
were all in the same arm of the galaxy as us, and not all that far
away, as galaxies go," said Valentine primly, to goad him. "And Peter,
just because
your
future is all tied up with
trying to become the ruler of the world doesn't mean that I want to
spend my whole future as your sidekick. You've had my youth, you've
used me up, but I will spend my declining years without you, my love."
"It's sickening when
you talk as if we were married."
"I'm talking as if we
were in an old movie," said Valentine.
"I don't watch movies,"
said Peter, "so I wouldn't know."
"There's so much you
'wouldn't know,' " said Valentine. For a moment she was tempted to tell
him all about Ender's visit to Earth, when Graff tried to use Valentine
to persuade a burnt-out Ender to get back to work. And to tell Peter
that Graff knew all about their secret identities on the nets. That
would take the smirk off his face.
But what would that
accomplish? It was better for everyone to leave Peter in
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