"It wasn't a plan," said Bean. "Maybe it made him think of a plan. But it was him. It was Ender. You put your money on the right kid."
Graff looked at Bean in silence, then reached out and put a hand on Bean's head, tousled his hair a little. "I think perhaps you pulled each other across the finish line."
"It doesn't matter, does it?" said Bean. "It's finished, anyway. And so is the temporary unity of the human race."
"Yes," said Graff. He pulled his hand away, ran it through his own hair. "I believed in your analysis. I tried to give warning. If the Strategos heeded my advice, the Polemarch's men are getting arrested here on Eros and all over the fleet."
"Will they go peacefully?" asked Bean.
"We'll see," said Graff.
The sound of gunfire echoed from some distant tunnel.
"Guess not," said Bean.
They heard the sound of men running in step. And soon they saw them, a contingent of a dozen armed marines.
Bean and Graff watched them approach. "Friend or foe?"
"They all wear the same uniform," said Graff. "You're the one who called it, Bean. Inside those doors" - he gestured toward the doors to the kids' quarters - "those children are the spoils of war. In command of armies back on Earth, they're the hope of victory. You are the hope."
The soldiers came to a stop in front of Graff. "We're here to protect the children, sir," said their leader.
"From what?"
"The Polemarch's men seem to be resisting arrest, sir," said the soldier. "The Strategos has ordered that these children be kept safe at all costs."
Graff was visibly relieved to know which side these troops were on. "The girl is in that room over there. I suggest you consolidate them all into those two barrack rooms for the duration."
"Is this the kid who did it?" asked the soldier, indicating Bean.
"He's one of them."
"It was Ender Wiggin who did it," said Bean. "Ender was our commander."
"Is he in one of those rooms?" asked the soldier.
"He's with Mazer Rackham," said Graff. "And this one stays with me."
The soldier saluted. He began positioning his men in more advanced positions down the tunnel, with only a single guard outside each door to prevent the kids from going out and getting lost somewhere in the fighting.
Bean trotted along beside Graff as he headed purposefully down the tunnel, beyond the farthest of the guards.
"If the Strategos did this right, the ansibles have already been secured. I don't know about you, but I want to be where the news is coming in. And going out."
"Is Russian a hard language to learn?" asked Bean.
"Is that what passes for humor with you?" asked Graff.
"It was a simple question."
"Bean, you're a great kid, but shut up, OK?"
Bean laughed. "OK."
"You don't mind if I still call you Bean?"
"It's my name."
"Your name should have been Julian Delphiki. If you'd had a birth certificate, that's the name that would have been on it."
"You mean that was true?"
"Would I lie about something like that?"
Then, realizing the absurdity of what he had just said, they laughed. Laughed long enough to still be smiling when they passed the detachment of marines protecting the entrance to the ansible complex.
"You think anybody will ask me for military advice?" asked Bean. "Because I'm going to get into this war, even if I have to lie about my age and enlist in the marines."
CHAPTER 24 - HOMECOMING
"I thought you'd want to know. Some bad news."
"There's no shortage of that, even in the midst of victory."
"When it became clear that the IDL had control of Battle School and was sending the kids home under I.F. protection, the New Warsaw Pact apparently did a little research and found that there was one student from Battle School who wasn't under our control. Achilles."
"But he was only there a couple of days."
"He passed our tests. He got in. He was the only one they could get."
"Did they? Get him?"
"All the security there was designed to keep inmates inside. Three guards dead, all the inmates released into the general population. They've all been recovered, except one."
"So he's loose."
"I wouldn't call it loose, exactly. They intend to use him."
"Do they know what he is?"
"No. His records were sealed. A juvenile, you see. They weren't coming for his dossier."
"They'll find out. They don't like serial killers in Moscow, either."
"He's hard to pin down. How many died before any of us suspected him?"