Figurehead%[email protected]
To: PeterWiggin%[email protected]
Password: ********
Re: Speaking as a mother
After all these years of posing as the Madonna in your
little Pieta, it occurs to me that I might whisper something in your oh-so busy
ear:
Ever since Achilles's little kidnapping venture, the
not-so-secret weapon in everyone's arsenal is whatever array of Battle School
graduates they're able to acquire, keep, and deploy. Now it's even worse. Alai
is Caliph in fact as well as name. Han Tzu is emperor of China. Virlomi is ... what,
a goddess? That's what I hear, coming out of India.
Now they will go to war against each other.
What are YOU doing? Betting on the winner and choosing up
sides?
Quite apart from the fact that many of these children were
Ender's friends and fellow soldiers, the whole human race owes them our very
survival. We took away their childhood. When do they get a life they can call
their own?
Peter, I've read history. Men like Genghis and Alexander
were deprived of a normal childhood and absolutely focused on war and you know
what? It deformed them. They were unhappy all the days of their lives.
Alexander didn't know who he was when he stopped conquering people. If he
stopped moving forward, slaughtering all the way, he died.
So how about setting these children free? Have you given any
thought to that? Talk to Graff. He'll listen to you. Give these children an
out. A chance. A life.
If for no other reason than because they're Andrew's
friends. They're like Andrew. They didn't choose themselves for Battle School.
You, on the other hand, didn't go to Battle School. You
volunteered to save the world. So you have to stay and see it through.
Your loving and ever-supportive mother
A woman's face appeared on the screen. She was dressed in
the simple work-stained clothing of a Hindu peasant woman. But she bore herself
like a lady of the highest caste—a concept that still had meaning, despite the
long-ago banning of all outward markers of caste.
Peter did not know her. But Petra did. "It's
Virlomi."
"All this time," said Bean, "she hasn't shown
her face. Till now."
"I wonder," said Petra, "how many thousands
of people in India already know her face."
"Let's listen," said Peter. He moused the PLAY
button.
"No one is faithful to God who has no choice. That is
why Hindus are truly faithful, for they may choose not to be Hindus and no harm
comes to them.
"And that is why there are no true Muslims in the
world, because they may not choose to cease to be Muslims. If a Muslim tries to
become a Hindu or a Christian or even a simple unbeliever, some fanatical
Muslim will kill him."
Pictures were flashed on the screen of beheaded bodies.
Well-known images, but still potent as propaganda.
"Islam is a religion that has no believers," she
said. "Only people who are compelled to call themselves Muslims and live
as Muslims under fear of death."
Standard pictures of Muslims en masse, bowing down to
pray—the very footage that was often used to show the piety of Muslim
populations. But now, framed as Virlomi had framed it, the images seemed to be
those of puppets, acting in unison out of fear.
Her face reappeared on the screen. "Caliph Alai: We
welcomed your armies as liberators. We sabotaged and spied and blocked Chinese
supply routes to help you defeat our enemy. But your followers seem to think
they conquered India rather than liberating us. You did not conquer India. You
will never conquer India."
Now there was new footage: Ragged Indian peasants bearing modern
Chinese arms, marching like old-fashioned soldiers.
"We have no need of false Muslim soldiers. We have no
need of false Muslim teachers. We will never accept any Muslim presence on
Indian soil until Islam becomes a true religion and allows people the freedom
to choose not to be Muslim, without any penalty."
Virlomi's face again. "Do you think your mighty armies
can conquer India? Then
To: PeterWiggin%[email protected]
Password: ********
Re: Speaking as a mother
After all these years of posing as the Madonna in your
little Pieta, it occurs to me that I might whisper something in your oh-so busy
ear:
Ever since Achilles's little kidnapping venture, the
not-so-secret weapon in everyone's arsenal is whatever array of Battle School
graduates they're able to acquire, keep, and deploy. Now it's even worse. Alai
is Caliph in fact as well as name. Han Tzu is emperor of China. Virlomi is ... what,
a goddess? That's what I hear, coming out of India.
Now they will go to war against each other.
What are YOU doing? Betting on the winner and choosing up
sides?
Quite apart from the fact that many of these children were
Ender's friends and fellow soldiers, the whole human race owes them our very
survival. We took away their childhood. When do they get a life they can call
their own?
Peter, I've read history. Men like Genghis and Alexander
were deprived of a normal childhood and absolutely focused on war and you know
what? It deformed them. They were unhappy all the days of their lives.
Alexander didn't know who he was when he stopped conquering people. If he
stopped moving forward, slaughtering all the way, he died.
So how about setting these children free? Have you given any
thought to that? Talk to Graff. He'll listen to you. Give these children an
out. A chance. A life.
If for no other reason than because they're Andrew's
friends. They're like Andrew. They didn't choose themselves for Battle School.
You, on the other hand, didn't go to Battle School. You
volunteered to save the world. So you have to stay and see it through.
Your loving and ever-supportive mother
A woman's face appeared on the screen. She was dressed in
the simple work-stained clothing of a Hindu peasant woman. But she bore herself
like a lady of the highest caste—a concept that still had meaning, despite the
long-ago banning of all outward markers of caste.
Peter did not know her. But Petra did. "It's
Virlomi."
"All this time," said Bean, "she hasn't shown
her face. Till now."
"I wonder," said Petra, "how many thousands
of people in India already know her face."
"Let's listen," said Peter. He moused the PLAY
button.
"No one is faithful to God who has no choice. That is
why Hindus are truly faithful, for they may choose not to be Hindus and no harm
comes to them.
"And that is why there are no true Muslims in the
world, because they may not choose to cease to be Muslims. If a Muslim tries to
become a Hindu or a Christian or even a simple unbeliever, some fanatical
Muslim will kill him."
Pictures were flashed on the screen of beheaded bodies.
Well-known images, but still potent as propaganda.
"Islam is a religion that has no believers," she
said. "Only people who are compelled to call themselves Muslims and live
as Muslims under fear of death."
Standard pictures of Muslims en masse, bowing down to
pray—the very footage that was often used to show the piety of Muslim
populations. But now, framed as Virlomi had framed it, the images seemed to be
those of puppets, acting in unison out of fear.
Her face reappeared on the screen. "Caliph Alai: We
welcomed your armies as liberators. We sabotaged and spied and blocked Chinese
supply routes to help you defeat our enemy. But your followers seem to think
they conquered India rather than liberating us. You did not conquer India. You
will never conquer India."
Now there was new footage: Ragged Indian peasants bearing modern
Chinese arms, marching like old-fashioned soldiers.
"We have no need of false Muslim soldiers. We have no
need of false Muslim teachers. We will never accept any Muslim presence on
Indian soil until Islam becomes a true religion and allows people the freedom
to choose not to be Muslim, without any penalty."
Virlomi's face again. "Do you think your mighty armies
can conquer India? Then
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