given the consequences of failure. Whichever way he guessed, if he was wrong, everybody on Earth might pay the ultimate price. The only thing that made it possible was that if either of them was killed, or damaged physically or mentally, the other was still there to carry on as the sole remaining candidate.
If both failed, what then? There were many bright children, but none who were that much better than commanders already in place, who had graduated from Battle School many years ago.
Somebody has to roll the dice. Mine are the hands that hold those dice. I'm not a bureaucrat, placing my career above the larger purpose I was put here to serve. I will not put the dice in someone else's hands, or pretend that I don't have the choice I have.
For now, all Graff could do was listen to both Dap and Dimak, ignore their bureaucratic attacks and maneuvers against him, and try to keep them from each other's throats in their vicarious rivalry.
That small knock at the door - Graff knew before the door opened who it would be.
If he had heard the argument, Bean gave no sign. But then, that was Bean's specialty, giving no sign. Only Ender managed to be more secretive - and he, at least, had played the mind game long enough to give the teachers a map of his psyche.
"Sir," said Bean.
"Come in, Bean." Come in, Julian Delphiki, longed-for child of good and loving parents. Come in, kidnapped child, hostage of fate. Come and talk to the Fates, who are playing such clever little games with your life.
"I can wait," said Bean.
"Captain Dap and Captain Dimak can hear what you have to say, can't they?" asked Graff.
"If you say so, sir. It's not a secret. I would like to have access to station supplies."
"Denied."
"That's not acceptable, sir."
Graff saw how both Dap and Dimak glanced at him. Amused at the audacity of the boy? "Why do you think so?"
"Short notice, games every day, soldiers exhausted and yet still being pressured to perform in class - fine, Ender's dealing with it and so are we. But the only possible reason you could be doing this is to test our resourcefulness. So I want some resources."
"I don't remember your being commander of Dragon Army," said Graff. "I'll listen to a requisition for specific equipment from your commander."
"Not possible," said Bean. "He doesn't have time to waste on foolish bureaucratic procedures."
Foolish bureaucratic procedures. Graff had used that exact phrase in the argument just a few minutes ago. But Graff's voice had not been raised. How long had Bean been listening outside the door? Graff cursed himself silently. He had moved his office up here specifically because he knew Bean was a sneak and a spy, gathering intelligence however he could. And then he didn't even post a guard to stop the boy from simply walking up and listening at the door.
"And you do?" asked Graff.
"I'm the one he assigned to think of stupid things you might do to rig the game against us, and think of ways to deal with them."
"What do you think you're going to find?"
"I don't know," said Bean. "I just know that the only things we ever see are our uniforms and flash suits, our weapons and our desks. There are other supplies here. For instance, there's paper. We never get any except during written tests, when our desks are closed to us."
"What would you do with paper in the battleroom?"
"I don't know," said Bean. "Wad it up and throw it around. Shred it and make a cloud of dust out of it."
"And who would clean this up?"
"Not my problem," said Bean.
"Permission denied."
"That's not acceptable, sir," said Bean.
"I don't mean to hurt your feelings, Bean, but it matters less than a cockroach's fart whether you accept my decision or not."
"I don't mean to hurt your feelings, sir, but you clearly have no idea what you're doing. You're improvising. Screwing with the system. The damage you're doing is going to take years to undo, and you don't care. That means that it doesn't matter what condition this school is in a year from now. That means that everybody who matters is going to be graduated soon. Training is being accelerated because the Buggers are getting too close for delays. So you're pushing. And you're especially pushing Ender Wiggin."
Graff felt sick. He knew that Bean's powers of analysis were extraordinary. So, also, were his powers of deception.