"The thing is, you can't pass the buck on this one, can you? Can't say how it was the tests, you just followed the tests. The scores. Whatever."
"Can't run this like a machine."
"That's why you don't want Bean, isn't it? Because he was made, like a machine."
"I don't analyze myself. I analyze them."
"So if we win, who really won the war? The commander you picked? Or you, for picking him?"
"The Triumvirate, for trusting me. After their fashion. But if we lose . . ."
"Well then it's definitely you."
"We're all dead then. What will they do? Kill me first? Or leave me till last so I can contemplate the consequences of my error?"
"Ender, though. I mean if he's the one. He won't say it's you. He'll take it all on himself. Not the credit for victory--just the blame for failure."
"Win or lose, the kid I pick is going to have a brutal time of it."
Bean got his summons during lunch. He reported at once to Dimak's quarters.
He found his teacher sitting at his desk, reading something. The light was set so that Bean couldn't read it through the dazzle.
"Have a seat," said Dimak.
Bean jumped up and sat on Dimak's bed, his legs dangling.
"Let me read you something," said Dimak. " 'There are no fortifications, no magazines, no strong points. . . . In the enemy solar system, there can be no living off the land, since access to habitable planets will be possible only after complete victory. . . . Supply lines are not a problem, since there are none to protect, but the cost of that is that all supplies and ordnance must be carried with the invading fleet. . . . In effect, all interstellar invasion fleets are suicide attacks, because time dilation means that even if a fleet returns intact, almost no one they knew will still be alive. They can never return, and so must be sure that their force is sufficient to be decisive and therefore is worth the sacrifice. . . . Mixed-sex forces allow the possibility of the army becoming a permanent colony and/or occupying force on the captured enemy planet."
Bean listened complacently. He had left it in his desk for them to find it, and they had done so.
"You wrote this, Bean, but you never submitted it to anybody."
"There was never an assignment that it fit."
"You don't seem surprised that we found it."
"I assume that you routinely scan our desks."
"Just as you routinely scan ours?"
Bean felt his stomach twist with fear. They knew.
"Cute, naming your false log-in 'Graff' with a caret in front of it."
Bean said nothing.
"You've been scanning all the other students' records. Why?"
"I wanted to know them. I've only made friends with a few."
"Close friends with none."
"I'm little and I'm smarter than they are. Nobody's standing in line."
"So you use their records to tell you more about them. Why do you feel the need to understand them?"
"Someday I'll be in command of one of these armies."