would agree to the arrangement Bean had thought up. There was no choice. But I got scared. Kill him, I said, because I wanted it to go away.
And still I'm standing here. The water is off. I'm dripping wet and cold. But I can't move.
Nikolai was standing in the bathroom doorway. "Too bad about your diarrhea," he said.
"What?"
"I told Ender about how you were up with diarrhea in the night. That's why you had to go to the bathroom. You were sick, but you didn't want to tell him because you didn't want to miss the first battle."
"I'm so scared I couldn't take a dump if I wanted to," said Bean.
"He gave me your towel. He said it was stupid of him to take it." Nikolai walked in and gave it to him. "He said he needs you in the battle, so he's glad you're toughing it out."
"He doesn't need me. He doesn't even want me."
"Come on, Bean," said Nikolai. "You can do this."
Bean toweled off. It felt good to be moving. Doing something.
"I think you're dry enough," said Nikolai.
Again, Bean realized he was simply drying and drying himself, over and over.
"Nikolai, what's wrong with me?"
"You're afraid that you'll turn out to be just a little kid. Well, here's a clue: You are a little kid."
"So are you."
"So it's OK to be really bad. Isn't that what you keep telling me?" Nikolai laughed. "Come on, if I can do it, bad as I am, so can you."
"Nikolai," said Bean.
"What now?"
"I really do have to crap."
"I sure hope you don't expect me to wipe your butt."
"If I don't come out in three minutes, come in after me."
Cold and sweating - a combination he wouldn't have thought possible. Bean went into the toilet stall and closed the door. The pain in his abdomen was fierce. But he couldn't get his bowel to loosen up and let go.
What am I so afraid of?
Finally, his alimentary system triumphed over his nervous system. It felt like everything he'd ever eaten flooded out of him at once.
"Time's up," said Nikolai. "I'm coming in."
"At peril of your life," said Bean. "I'm done, I'm coming out."
Empty now, clean, and humiliated in front of his only real friend, Bean came out of the stall and wrapped his towel around him.
"Thanks for keeping me from being a liar," said Nikolai.
"What?"
"About your having diarrhea."
"For you I'd get dysentery."
"Now that's friendship."
By the time they got to the gym, everybody was already in their flash suits, ready to go. While Nikolai helped Bean get into his suit, Wiggin had the rest of them lie down on the mats and do relaxation exercises. Bean even had time to lie down for a couple of minutes before Wiggin had them get up. 0656. Four minutes to get to the battleroom. He was cutting it pretty fine.
As they ran along the corridor, Wiggin occasionally jumped up to touch the ceiling. Behind him, the rest of the army would jump up and touch the same spot when they reached it. Except the smaller ones. Bean, his heart still burning with humiliation and resentment and fear, did not try. You do that kind of thing when you belong with the group. And he didn't belong. After all his brilliance in class, the truth was out now. He was a coward. He didn't belong in the military at all. If he couldn't even risk playing a game, what would he be worth in combat? The real generals exposed themselves to enemy fire. Fearless, they had to be, an example of courage to their men.
Me, I freeze up, take long showers, and dump a week's rations into the head. Let's see them follow that example.
At the gate, Wiggin had time to line them up in toons, then remind them. "Which way is the enemy's gate?"
"Down!" they all answered.
Bean only mouthed the word. Down. Down down down.
What's the best way to get down off a goose?
What are you doing up on a goose in the first place, you fool!
The grey wall in front of them disappeared, and they could see into the battleroom. It was dim - not dark, but so faintly lighted that the only way they could see the enemy gate was the light of Rabbit Army's flash suits pouring out of it.
Wiggin was in no hurry to get out of the gate. He stood there surveying the room, which was arranged in an open grid, with eight "stars" - large cubes that