Ender's Game (Ender's Saga, #1) - Orson Scott Card Page 0,101

never decide to cease to exist. So if we can we’ll kill every last one of the buggers, and if they can they’ll kill every last one of us.”

“As for me,” said Ender, “I’m in favor of surviving.”

“I know,” said Graff. “That’s why you’re here.”

14

ENDER’S TEACHER

“Took your time, didn’t you, Graff? The voyage isn’t short, but the three-month vacation seems excessive.”

“I prefer not to deliver damaged merchandise.”

“Some men simply have no sense of hurry. Oh well, it’s only the fate of the world. . . . Never mind me. You must understand our anxiety. We’re here with the ansible, receiving constant reports of the progress of our starships. We have to face the coming war every day. If you can call them days. He’s such a very little boy.”

“There’s greatness in him. A magnitude of spirit.”

“A killer instinct, too, I hope.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve planned out an impromptu course of study for him. All subject to your approval, of course.”

“I’ll look at it. I don’t pretend to know the subject matter, Admiral Chamrajnagar. I’m only here because I know Ender. So don’t be afraid that I’ll try to second-guess the order of your presentation. Only the pace.”

“How much can we tell him?”

“Don’t waste his time on the physics of interstellar travel.”

“What about the ansible?”

“I already told him about that, and the fleets. I said they would arrive at their destination within five years.”

“It seems there’s very little left for us to tell him.”

“You can tell him about the weapons systems. He has to know enough to make intelligent decisions.”

“Ah. We can be useful after all, how very kind. We’ve devoted one of the five simulators to his exclusive use.”

“What about the others?”

“The other simulators?”

“The other children.”

“You were brought here to take care of Ender Wiggin.”

“Just curious. Remember, they were all my students at one time or another.”

“And now they are all mine. They are entering into the mysteries of the fleet, Colonel Graff, to which you, as a soldier, have never been introduced.”

“You make it sound like a priesthood.”

“And a god. And a religion. Even those of us who command by ansible know the majesty of flight among the stars. I can see you find my mysticism distasteful. I assure you that your distaste only reveals your ignorance. Soon enough Ender Wiggin will also know what I know; he will dance the graceful ghost dance through the stars, and whatever greatness there is within him will be unlocked, revealed, set forth before the universe for all to see. You have the soul of a stone, Colonel Graff, but I sing to a stone as easily as to another singer. You may go to your quarters and establish yourself.”

“I have nothing to establish except the clothing I’m wearing.”

“You own nothing?”

“They keep my salary in an account somewhere on Earth. I’ve never needed it. Except to buy civilian clothes on my—vacation.”

“A non-materialist. And yet you are unpleasantly fat. A gluttonous ascetic? Such a contradiction.”

“When I’m tense, I eat. Whereas when you’re tense, you spout solid waste.”

“I like you, Colonel Graff. I think we shall get along.”

“I don’t much care, Admiral Chamrajnagar. I came here for Ender. And neither of us came here for you.”

Ender hated Eros from the moment he shuttled down from the tug. He had been uncomfortable enough on Earth, where floors were flat; Eros was hopeless. It was a roughly spindle-shaped rock only six and a half kilometers thick at its narrowest point. Since the surface of the planetoid was entirely devoted to absorbing sunlight and converting it to energy, everyone lived in the smooth-walled rooms linked by tunnels that laced the interior of the asteroid. The closed-in space was no problem for Ender—what bothered him was that all the tunnel floors noticeably sloped downward. From the start, Ender was plagued by vertigo as he walked through the tunnels, especially the ones that girdled Eros’s narrow circumference. It did not help that gravity was only half of Earth-normal—the illusion of being on the verge of falling was almost complete.

There was also something disturbing about the proportions of the rooms—the ceilings were too low for the width, the tunnels too narrow. It was not a comfortable place.

Worst of all, though, was the number of people. Ender had no important memories of the scale of the cities of Earth. His idea of a comfortable number of people was the Battle School, where he had known by sight every person who dwelt there. Here, though, ten thousand people lived within the rock. There was no