"She's not talking about me," Val answered.
"It's Ender's. He has two others. This is a spare. He doesn't even want it himself."
"We can't go away in the dark," said Miro.
Miro felt Val pull her hand away from him.
"No!" he cried. "Don't let go!"
Miro knew the question was not directed toward him.
Miro heard Val's voice--from surprisingly far away. She must be moving rapidly in the darkness. "If you and Jane are so concerned about saving my life," she said, "then give me and Miro a guide. Otherwise, who cares if I drop down some shaft and break my neck? Not Ender. Not me. Certainly not Miro."
"Stop moving!" cried Miro. "Just hold still, Val!"
"You hold still," Val called back to him. "You're the one with a life worth saving!"
Suddenly Miro felt a hand groping for his. No, a claw. He gripped the foreclaw of a worker and she led him forward through the darkness. Not very far. Then they turned a corner and it was lighter, turned another and they could see. Another, another, and there they were in a chamber illuminated by light through a shaft that led to the surface. Val was already there, seated on the ground before the Hive Queen.
When Miro saw her before, she had been in the midst of laying eggs--eggs that would grow into new hive queens, a brutal process, cruel and sensuous. Now, though, she simply lay in the damp earth of the tunnel, eating what a steady stream of workers brought to her. Clay dishes filled with a mash of amaranth and water. Now and then, gathered fruit. Now and then, meat. No interruption, worker after worker. Miro had never seen, had never imagined anyone eating so much.
"We'll never stop the fleet without starflight," said Miro. "They're about to kill Jane, any day now. Shut down the ansible network, and she'll die. What then? What are your ships for then? The Lusitania Fleet will come and destroy this world."
"I worry about everything," said Miro. "It's all my concern. Besides, my job is done. Finished. There are already enough worlds. More worlds than we can settle. What we need is more starships and more time, not more destinations."
"Really? When did this change of assignment come about?"
"Then why have Val and I been killing ourselves all these weeks? And that's literal, for Val--the work is so boring that it doesn't interest Ender and so she's fading."
"You see, Val?" said Miro. "The Hive Queen knows--your memories are your self. If your memories live, then you're alive."
"In a pig's eye," said Val softly. "What's the worse danger she's talking about?"
"There is no worse danger," said Miro. "She just wants me to go away, but I won't go away. Your life is worth saving, Val. So is Jane's. And the Hive Queen can find a way to do it, if it can be done. If Jane could be the bridge between Ender and the hive queens, then why can't Ender be the bridge between Jane and you?"
There was the catch: Ender had warned Miro long ago that the Hive Queen looks upon her own intentions as facts, just like her memories. But when her intentions change, then the new intention is the new fact, and she doesn't remember ever having intended anything else. Thus a promise from the Hive Queen was written on water. She would only keep the promises that still made sense for her to keep.
Yet there was no better promise to be had.
"You'll try," said Miro.
"Do you ever intend," asked Val, "to consult with me?"
Val sighed. "I suppose I am," she said. "Deep down inside myself, where I am really an old man who doesn't give a damn whether this young new puppet lives or dies--I suppose that at that level, I don't mind."
"You've got it," said Val. "And don't tell me again that stupid lie that you don't mind dying because your daughters have your memories. You damn well do mind dying, and if keeping Jane alive might save your life, you want to do it."
Jane was pouting. Miro tried to talk to her all the way back to Milagre, back to the starship, but she was as silent as Val, who would hardly look at him, let alone converse.
"So I'm the evil one," said Miro. "Neither of you was doing a damn thing about it, but because I actually take action, I'm bad and you're the victims."
Val shook her head and did not answer.
"You're dying!" he shouted over the noise of the air rushing past them, over the noise of the engines. "Jane's about to be executed! Is there some virtue in being passive about this? Can't somebody at least make an effort?"
Val said something that Miro didn't hear.
"What?"