"What do you mean?"
"Sel and Po did find the cave with living gold bug larvae in it. Therefore the chance of their finding it, in this causal universe, is one hundred percent. Because it happened."
"Oh."
"But since we don't know how many other bug caves there are, or where they're situated, any guess at how likely we are to find one isn't about probability--it's just a guess. There's not enough data for mathematical probabilities."
"We know there was a second one," said Abra. "So it's not like we know nothing."
"But from the data we actually have, one cave with living gold bugs and one with dead aluminum ones, what would you conclude?"
"That we have as much chance of finding live ones as dead. That's what Father says."
"But that isn't really true," said Ender. "Because in the cave Sel and Po found, the bugs weren't thriving. They had almost died out. And in the other cave, they had died out. So now what are the odds?"
Abra thought hard about it. "I don't know," he said. "It depends on how big each colony was, and whether they would think of eating their own parents' bodies like these bugs did, and maybe other stuff I don't even know about."
"Now you're thinking like a scientist," said Ender. "Now, please think like a sleeping person. We have a long day tomorrow."
They traveled all day the next day, and it all began to look the same to Abra. "What's wrong with any of these places?" said Abra. "The...formics farmed there, and they did fine. And a landing strip could go there."
"Too close," said Ender. "Not enough room for the newcomers to develop their own culture. So close that if they became envious of Falstaff village, they might try to take it over."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because they're human," said Ender. "And, specifically, because then they'd have people who knew everything that we know and can do everything we do."
"But they'd still be our people," said Abra.
"Not for long," said Ender. "Now that the villages are separate, the Falstaffians will start thinking about what's good for Falstaff. They might resent Miranda for thinking we should be their boss, and maybe they'd want to join these new people voluntarily."
Abra thought about that for about ten clicks. "What would be wrong with that?" he said.
This time it took Ender a moment of thought before he was able to answer. "Ah, Falstaff joining the new people voluntarily. Well, I don't know if anything would be wrong with it. I just know that what I want to happen is for all the villages--including the new one--to be separate enough to develop their own traditions and cultures, and far enough apart that they won't fight over the same resources, yet close enough to intermarry and trade. I'm hoping that there's some perfect distance apart that will make it so they don't start fighting each other, or at least not for a long time."
"As long as we have you as governor, we'll just win anyway," said Abra.
"I don't care who wins," said Ender. "It's having a war at all that would be terrible."
"That's not how you felt when you beat the formics!"
"No," said Ender. "When the survival of the human race is at stake, you can't help but care who wins. But in a war between colonists on this planet, why would I care which side won? Either way, there'd be killing and loss and grief and hate and bitter memories and the seeds of wars to come. And both sides would be human, so no matter what, humans would lose. And lose and keep on losing. Abra, I sometimes say prayers, did you know that? Because my parents prayed. I sometimes talk to God even though I don't know anything about him. I ask him: Let the wars end."
"They have ended," said Abra. "On earth. The Hegemon united the whole world and nobody's at war anywhere."
"Yes," said Ender. "Wouldn't it be ridiculous if they finally got peace on Earth and we just started up the whole warfare thing again here on Shakespeare?"
"The Hegemon is your brother, right?" asked Abra.
"He's Valentine's brother," said Ender.
"But she's your sister," said Abra.
"He's Valentine's brother," said Ender, and his face looked sort of dark and Abra didn't ask him what in the world he was talking about.
On the third day of their trip, as the sun got to about two hands above the western horizon--time on clocks and watches meant nothing here, since they had all been made on Earth for Earth days, and nobody liked any of the schemes for dividing up the Shakespearian day into hours and minutes--Ender finally stopped the skimmer on the crest of a hill overlooking a broad valley with overgrown orchards and fields with forty years' growth of trees in them. There were tunnel entrances in some of the surrounding hills, and chimneys that showed there had been manufacturing here.
"This place looks as likely as any," said Ender. So, just like that, the site of the new colony was chosen.