Ender's Game (Ender's Saga, #1) - Orson Scott Card Page 0,98

the tug. It would be making a fast run this time, to a destination of Graff’s specification, not to be stated until the tug had cut loose from IPL.

“It’s no great secret,” said the tug’s captain. “Whenever the destination is unknown, it’s for ISL.” By analogy with IPL, Ender decided the letters meant Inter-Stellar Launch.

“This time it isn’t,” said Graff.

“Where then?”

“I.F. Command.”

“I don’t have security clearance even to know where that is, sir.”

“Your ship knows,” said Graff. “Just let the computer have a look at this, and follow the course it plots.” He handed the captain the plastic ball.

“And I’m supposed to close my eyes during the whole voyage, so I don’t figure out where we are?”

“Oh, no, of course not. I.F. Command is on the minor planet Eros, which should be about three months away from here at the highest possible speed. Which is the speed you’ll use, of course.”

“Eros? But I thought that the buggers burned that to a radioactive—ah. When did I receive security clearance to know this?”

“You didn’t. So when we arrive at Eros, you will undoubtedly be assigned to permanent duty there.”

The captain understood immediately, and didn’t like it. “I’m a pilot, you son of a bitch, and you got no right to lock me up on a rock!”

“I will overlook your derisive language to a superior officer. I do apologize, but my orders were to take the fastest available military tug. At the moment I arrived, that was you. It isn’t as though anyone were out to get you. Cheer up. The war may be over in another fifteen years, and then the location of I.F. Command won’t have to be a secret anymore. By the way, you should be aware, in case you’re one of those who relies on visuals for docking, that Eros has been blacked out. Its albedo is only slightly brighter than a black hole. You won’t see it.”

“Thanks,” said the captain.

It was nearly a month into the voyage before he managed to speak civilly to Colonel Graff.

The shipboard computer had a limited library—it was geared primarily to entertainment rather than education. So during the voyage, after breakfast and morning exercises, Ender and Graff would usually talk. About Command School. About Earth. About astronomy and physics and whatever Ender wanted to know.

And above all, he wanted to know about the buggers.

“We don’t know much,” said Graff. “We’ve never had a live one in custody. Even when we caught one unarmed and alive, he died the moment it became obvious he was captured. Even the he is uncertain—the most likely thing, in fact, is that most bugger soldiers are females, but with atrophied or vestigial sexual organs. We can’t tell. It’s their psychology that would be most useful to you, and we haven’t exactly had a chance to interview them.”

“Tell me what you know, and maybe I’ll learn something that I need.”

So Graff told him. The buggers were organisms that could conceivably have evolved on Earth, if things had gone a different way a billion years ago. At the molecular level, there were no surprises. Even the genetic material was the same. It was no accident that they looked insectlike to human beings. Though their internal organs were now much more complex and specialized than any insects, and they had evolved an internal skeleton and shed most of the exoskeleton, their physical structure still echoed their ancestors, who could easily have been very much like Earth’s ants. “But don’t be fooled by that,” said Graff. “It’s just as meaningful to say that our ancestors could easily have been very much like squirrels.”

“If that’s all we have to go on, that’s something,” said Ender.

“Squirrels never built starships,” said Graff. “There are usually a few changes on the way from gathering nuts and seeds to harvesting asteroids and putting permanent research stations on the moons of Saturn.”

The buggers could probably see about the same spectrum of light as human beings, and there was artificial lighting in their ships and ground installations. However, their antennae seemed almost vestigial. There was no evidence from their bodies that smelling, tasting, or hearing were particularly important to them. “Of course, we can’t be sure. But we can’t see any way that they could have used sound for communication. The oddest thing of all was that they also don’t have any communication devices on their ships. No radios, nothing that could transmit or receive any kind of signal.”

“They communicate ship to ship. I’ve seen the videos, they talk