blissful
ignorance.
While they were
talking, Peter had been doing some desultory pointing and typing on his
desk. Now he was seeing something in his holo that made him as angry as
she had ever seen him. "What?" she asked, assuming it was some dreadful
world news.
"You shut down my back
doors!"
It took her a moment to
understand what he meant. Then she realized—he had apparently
thought she wouldn't notice that he had secret access points to all of
Demosthenes' vital sites and identities. What an idiot. When he made a
big deal about how he had created all these wonderful identities and
accounts for her, of
course
she assumed that he
had created back doors to all of them so he could always come in and
change what she did. Why would he imagine she'd leave things that way?
She found them all within a few weeks; anything he could do with
Demosthenes on the nets, she could undo. So when she changed all the
passwords and access codes, of course she closed the back doors, too.
What did he think?
"Peter," she said,
"they wouldn't be locked if I let you have a key, now, would they?"
Peter rose to his feet,
his face turning red, his fists clenched. "You ungrateful little bitch."
"What are you going to
do, Peter? Hit me? I'm ready. I think I can take you down."
Peter sat back down.
"Go," he said. "Go into space. Shut down Demosthenes. I don't need you.
I don't need anybody."
"That's why you're such
a loser," said Valentine. "You'll never rule the world until you figure
out that you can't do it without
everybody's
cooperation. You can't fool them, you can't force them. They have to
want
to follow you. Like Alexander's soldiers wanted to follow him and fight
for him. And the moment they stopped wanting to, his power evaporated.
You need
everybody
but you're too narcissistic to
know it."
"I need the willing
cooperation of key people here on Earth," said Peter, "but you won't be
one of them, will you? So go, tell Mom and Dad what you're doing. Break
their hearts. What do
you
care? You're going off
to see your precious Ender."
"You still hate him,"
said Valentine.
"I never hated him,"
said Peter. "But at this moment, I certainly do hate you. Not a lot,
but enough to make me want to piss on your bed."
It was a standing joke
between them. She couldn't help it. It made her laugh. "Oh, Peter,
you're such a
boy.
"
* * * * *
Mother and Father took
her decision surprisingly well. But they refused to come with her.
"Val," Father said, "I think you're right—Ender won't be
coming home. It broke our hearts to realize it. And it's wonderful of
you to want to join him, even if neither of you ends up going with a
colony. Even if it's just a few months in space. Even a few years. It's
a good thing for him to be with you again."
"It would be better to
have the two of you out there, too."
Father shook his head.
Mother pressed a finger to each eye—her gesture that said,
I'm not going to cry.
"We can't go," said
Father. "Our work is here."
"They could spare you
for a year or two."
"That's easy for you to
say," said Father. "You're young. What's a couple of years to you? But
we're older. Not old, but older than you. Time means something
different to us. We love Ender, but we can't spend months or years just
going out to visit him. We don't have that much time left."
"That's exactly the
point," said Valentine. "You don't have much time—and still
less time to get a chance to see Ender again."
"Val," said Mother, her
voice quavering. "Nothing we do now will give us back the years we've
lost."
She was right, and
Valentine knew it. But she didn't see the relevance. "So you're going
to treat him as if he's dead?"
"Val," said Father. "We
know he's not dead. But we also know he doesn't want us. We've written
to him—since the war ended. Graff—the one who's on
trial—he wrote back. Ender doesn't want to write letters to
us. He reads them, but he told Graff that he had nothing to say."
"Graff's a liar," said
Valentine. "He probably
ignorance.
While they were
talking, Peter had been doing some desultory pointing and typing on his
desk. Now he was seeing something in his holo that made him as angry as
she had ever seen him. "What?" she asked, assuming it was some dreadful
world news.
"You shut down my back
doors!"
It took her a moment to
understand what he meant. Then she realized—he had apparently
thought she wouldn't notice that he had secret access points to all of
Demosthenes' vital sites and identities. What an idiot. When he made a
big deal about how he had created all these wonderful identities and
accounts for her, of
course
she assumed that he
had created back doors to all of them so he could always come in and
change what she did. Why would he imagine she'd leave things that way?
She found them all within a few weeks; anything he could do with
Demosthenes on the nets, she could undo. So when she changed all the
passwords and access codes, of course she closed the back doors, too.
What did he think?
"Peter," she said,
"they wouldn't be locked if I let you have a key, now, would they?"
Peter rose to his feet,
his face turning red, his fists clenched. "You ungrateful little bitch."
"What are you going to
do, Peter? Hit me? I'm ready. I think I can take you down."
Peter sat back down.
"Go," he said. "Go into space. Shut down Demosthenes. I don't need you.
I don't need anybody."
"That's why you're such
a loser," said Valentine. "You'll never rule the world until you figure
out that you can't do it without
everybody's
cooperation. You can't fool them, you can't force them. They have to
want
to follow you. Like Alexander's soldiers wanted to follow him and fight
for him. And the moment they stopped wanting to, his power evaporated.
You need
everybody
but you're too narcissistic to
know it."
"I need the willing
cooperation of key people here on Earth," said Peter, "but you won't be
one of them, will you? So go, tell Mom and Dad what you're doing. Break
their hearts. What do
you
care? You're going off
to see your precious Ender."
"You still hate him,"
said Valentine.
"I never hated him,"
said Peter. "But at this moment, I certainly do hate you. Not a lot,
but enough to make me want to piss on your bed."
It was a standing joke
between them. She couldn't help it. It made her laugh. "Oh, Peter,
you're such a
boy.
"
* * * * *
Mother and Father took
her decision surprisingly well. But they refused to come with her.
"Val," Father said, "I think you're right—Ender won't be
coming home. It broke our hearts to realize it. And it's wonderful of
you to want to join him, even if neither of you ends up going with a
colony. Even if it's just a few months in space. Even a few years. It's
a good thing for him to be with you again."
"It would be better to
have the two of you out there, too."
Father shook his head.
Mother pressed a finger to each eye—her gesture that said,
I'm not going to cry.
"We can't go," said
Father. "Our work is here."
"They could spare you
for a year or two."
"That's easy for you to
say," said Father. "You're young. What's a couple of years to you? But
we're older. Not old, but older than you. Time means something
different to us. We love Ender, but we can't spend months or years just
going out to visit him. We don't have that much time left."
"That's exactly the
point," said Valentine. "You don't have much time—and still
less time to get a chance to see Ender again."
"Val," said Mother, her
voice quavering. "Nothing we do now will give us back the years we've
lost."
She was right, and
Valentine knew it. But she didn't see the relevance. "So you're going
to treat him as if he's dead?"
"Val," said Father. "We
know he's not dead. But we also know he doesn't want us. We've written
to him—since the war ended. Graff—the one who's on
trial—he wrote back. Ender doesn't want to write letters to
us. He reads them, but he told Graff that he had nothing to say."
"Graff's a liar," said
Valentine. "He probably
Similar Books
