Ender's Game (Ender's Saga, #1) - Orson Scott Card Page 0,39
Rose grinned. “And you are forbidden to use your desk again until you’ve frozen two enemy soldiers in the same battle. This order is out of self-defense. I hear you’re a genius programmer. I don’t want you screwing around with my desk.”
Everybody erupted in laughter. It took Ender a moment to understand why. Rose had programmed his desk to display and animate a bigger-than-lifesize picture of male genitals, which waggled back and forth as Rose held the desk on his naked lap. This is just the sort of commander Bonzo would trade me to, thought Ender. How does a boy who spends his time like this win battles?
Ender found Dink Meeker in the game room, not playing, just sitting and watching. “A guy pointed you out,” Ender said. “I’m Ender Wiggin.”
“I know,” said Meeker.
“I’m in your toon.”
“I know,” he said again.
“I’m pretty inexperienced.”
Dink looked up at him. “Look, Wiggin, I know all this. Why do you think I asked Rose to get you for me?”
He had not been dumped, he had been picked up, he had been asked for. Meeker wanted him. “Why?” asked Ender.
“I’ve watched your practice sessions with the Launchies. I think you show some promise. Bonzo is stupid and I wanted you to get better training than Petra could give you. All she can do is shoot.”
“I needed to learn that.”
“You still move like you were afraid to wet your pants.”
“So teach me.”
“So learn.”
“I’m not going to quit my freetime practice sessions.”
“I don’t want you to quit them.”
“Rose the Nose does.”
“Rose the Nose can’t stop you. Likewise, he can’t stop you from using your desk.”
“So why did he order it?”
“Listen, Ender, commanders have just as much authority as you let them have. The more you obey them, the more power they have over you.”
“What’s to stop them from hurting me?” Ender remembered Bonzo’s blow.
“I thought that was why you were taking personal attack classes.”
“You’ve really been watching me, haven’t you?”
Dink didn’t answer.
“I don’t want to get Rose mad at me. I want to be part of the battles now, I’m tired of sitting out till the end.”
“Your standings will go down.”
This time Ender didn’t answer.
“Listen, Ender, as long as you’re part of my toon, you’re part of the battle.”
Ender soon learned why. Dink trained his toon independently from the rest of Rat Army, with discipline and vigor; he never consulted with Rose, and only rarely did the whole army maneuver together. It was as if Rose commanded one army, and Dink commanded a much smaller one that happened to practice in the battleroom at the same time.
Dink started out the first practice by asking Ender to demonstrate his feet-first attack position. The other boys didn’t like it. “How can we attack lying on our backs?” they asked.
To Ender’s surprise, Dink didn’t correct them, didn’t say, “You aren’t attacking on your back, you’re dropping downward toward them.” He had seen what Ender was doing, but he had not understood the orientation that it implied. It soon became clear to Ender that even though Dink was very, very good, his persistence in holding onto the corridor gravity orientation instead of thinking of the enemy gate as downward was limiting his thinking.
They practiced attacking an enemy-held star. Before trying Ender’s feet-first method, they had always gone in standing up, their whole bodies available as a target. Even now, though, they reached the star and then assaulted the enemy from one direction only; “Over the top,” cried Dink, and over they went. To his credit, he then repeated the exercise, calling, “Again, upside down,” but because of their insistence on a gravity that didn’t exist, the boys became awkward when the maneuver was under, as if vertigo seized them.
They hated the feet-first attack. Dink insisted that they use it. As a result, they hated Ender. “Do we have to learn how to fight from a Launchy?” one of them muttered, making sure Ender could hear. “Yes,” answered Dink. They kept working.
And they learned it. In practice skirmishes, they began to realize how much harder it was to shoot an enemy who is attacking feet first. As soon as they were convinced of that, they practiced the maneuver more willingly.
That night was the first time Ender had come to one of his launchy practice sessions after a whole afternoon of work. He was tired.
“Now you’re really in an army,” said Alai, “you don’t have to keep practicing with us.”
“From you I can learn things that nobody knows,” said Ender.