"But I'll still be too young for security clearance."
"We'll keep you under armed guard at all times. The military knows how to handle these things."
They both laughed, and Ender had to remind himself that Graff was only acting like a friend, that everything he did was a lie or a cheat calculated to turn Ender into an efficient fighting machine. I'll become exactly the tool you want me to be, said Ender silently, but at least I won't befooled into it. I'll do it because I choose to, not because you tricked me, you sly bastard.
The tug reached Eros before they could see it. The captain showed them the visual scan, then superimposed the heat scan on the same screen. They were practically on top of it--only four thousand kilometers out--but Eros, only twenty-four kilometers long, was invisible if it didn't shine with reflected sunlight.
The captain docked the ship on one of the three landing platforms that circled Eros. It could not land directly because Eros had enhanced gravity, and the tug, designed for towing cargoes, could never escape the gravity well. He bade them an irritable good-bye, but Ender and Graff remained cheerful. The captain was bitter at having to leave his tug; Ender and Graff felt like prisoners finally paroled from jail. When they boarded the shuttle that would take them to the surface of Eros, they repeated perverse misquotations of lines from the videos that the captain had endlessly watched, and laughed like madmen. The captain grew surly and withdrew by pretending to go to sleep. Then, almost as an afterthought, Ender asked Graff one last question.
"Why are we fighting the buggers?"
"I've heard all kinds of reas
ons," said Graff. "Because they have an over-crowded system and they've got to colonize. Because they can't stand the thought of other intelligent life in the universe. Because they don't think we are intelligent life. Because they have some weird religion. Because they watched our old video broadcasts and decided we were hopelessly violent. All kinds of reasons."
"What do you believe?"
"It doesn't matter what I believe."
"I want to know anyway."
"They must talk to each other directly, Ender, mind to mind. What one thinks, another can also think; what one remembers, another can also remember. Why would they ever develop language? Why would they ever learn to read and write? How would they know what reading and writing were if they saw them? Or signals? Or numbers? Or anything that we use to communicate? This isn't just a matter of translating from one language to another. They don't have a language at all. We used every means we could think of to communicate with them, but they don't even have the machinery to know we're signaling. And maybe they've been trying to think to us, and they can't understand why we don't respond."
"So the whole war is because we can't talk to each other."
"If the other fellow can't tell you his story, you can never be sure he isn't trying to kill you."
"What if we just left them alone?"
"Ender, we didn't go to them first, they came to us. If they were going to leave us alone, they could have done it a hundred years ago, before the First Invasion."
"Maybe they didn't know we were intelligent life. Maybe--"
"Ender, believe me, there's a century of discussion on this very subject. Nobody knows the answer. When it comes down to it, though, the real decision is inevitable: If one of us has to be destroyed, let's make damn sure we're the ones alive at the end. Our genes won't let us decide any other way. Nature can't evolve a species that hasn't a will to survive. Individuals might be bred to sacrifice themselves, but the race as a whole can never decide to cease to exist. So if we can we'll kill every last one of the buggers, and if they can they'll kill every last one of us."
"As for me," said Ender, "I'm in favor of surviving."
"I know," said Graff. "That's why you're here."
14
ENDER'S TEACHER
"Took your time, didn't you, Graff? The voyage isn't short, but the three-month vacation seems excessive."
"I prefer not to deliver damaged merchandise."
"Some men simply have no sense of hurry. Oh well, it's only the fate of the world. . . . Never mind me. You must understand our anxiety. We're here with the ansible, receiving constant reports of the progress of our starships. We have to face the coming war every day. If you can call them days. He's such a very little boy."
"There's greatness in him. A magnitude of spirit."
"A killer instinct, too, I hope."
"Yes."
"We've planned out an impromptu course of study for him. All subject to your approval, of course."
"I'll look at it. I don't pretend to know the subject matter, Admiral Chamrajnagar. I'm only here because I know Ender. So don't be afraid that I'll try to second-guess the order of your presentation. Only the pace."