Ender's Game (Ender's Saga, #1) - Orson Scott Card Page 0,7
who makes it through the first year has ever failed to receive a commission as an officer. And none has retired from a position of lower rank than chief executive officer of an interplanetary vessel. Even in the domestic defense forces within our own solar system, there’s honor to be had.”
“How many make it through the first year?” asked Ender.
“All who want to,” said Graff.
Ender almost said, I want to. But he held his tongue. This would keep him out of school, but that was stupid, that was just a problem for a few days. It would keep him away from Peter—that was more important, that might be a matter of life itself. But to leave Mother and Father, and above all, to leave Valentine. And become a soldier. Ender didn’t like fighting. He didn’t like Peter’s kind, the strong against the weak, and he didn’t like his own kind either, the smart against the stupid.
“I think,” Graff said, “that Ender and I should have a private conversation.”
“No,” Father said.
“I won’t take him without letting you speak to him again,” Graff said. “And you really can’t stop me.”
Father glared at Graff a moment longer, then got up and left the room. Mother paused to squeeze Ender’s hand. She closed the door behind her when she left.
“Ender,” Graff said, “if you come with me, you won’t be back here for a long time. There aren’t any vacations from Battle School. No visitors, either. A full course of training lasts until you’re sixteen years old—you get your first leave, under certain circumstances, when you’re twelve. Believe me, Ender, people change in six years, in ten years. Your sister Valentine will be a woman when you see her again, if you come with me. You’ll be strangers. You’ll still love her, Ender, but you won’t know her. You see I’m not pretending it’s easy.”
“Mom and Daddy?”
“I know you, Ender. I’ve been watching the monitor disks for some time. You won’t miss your mother and father, not much, not for long. And they won’t miss you long, either.”
Tears came to Ender’s eyes, in spite of himself. He turned his face away, but would not reach up to wipe them.
“They do love you, Ender. But you have to understand what your life has cost them. They were born religious, you know. Your father was baptized with the name John Paul Wieczorek. Catholic. The seventh of nine children.”
Nine children. That was unthinkable. Criminal.
“Yes, well, people do strange things for religion. You know the sanctions, Ender—they were not as harsh then, but still not easy. Only the first two children had a free education. Taxes steadily rose with each new child. Your father turned sixteen and invoked the Noncomplying Families Act to separate himself from his family. He changed his name, renounced his religion, and vowed never to have more than the allotted two children. He meant it. All the shame and persecution he went through as a child—he vowed no child of his would go through it. Do you understand?”
“He didn’t want me.”
“Well, no one wants a Third anymore. You can’t expect them to be glad. But your father and mother are a special case. They both renounced their religions—your mother was a Mormon—but in fact their feelings are still ambiguous. Do you know what ambiguous means?”
“They feel both ways.”
“They’re ashamed of having come from noncompliant families. They conceal it. To the degree that your mother refuses to admit to anyone that she was born in Utah, lest they suspect. Your father denies his Polish ancestry, since Poland is still a noncompliant nation, and under international sanction because of it. So, you see, having a Third, even under the government’s direct instructions, undoes everything they’ve been trying to do.”
“I know that.”
“But it’s more complicated than that. Your father still named you with legitimate saints’ names. In fact, he baptized all three of you himself as soon as he got you home after you were born. And your mother objected. They quarreled over it each time, not because she didn’t want you baptized, but because she didn’t want you baptized Catholic. They haven’t really given up their religion. They look at you and see you as a badge of pride, because they were able to circumvent the law and have a Third. But you’re also a badge of cowardice, because they dare not go further and practice the noncompliance they still feel is right. And you’re a badge of public shame, because at every step you interfere