"Less governable than ever," said Suri. "But if you speak to them. If you tell them--"
"I will not tell them to surrender to yet another foreign power, not after they've been conquered and occupied by Chinese and then Muslims!"
"If you ask them to vote. To freely decide whether to live in peace, within the Free People--"
"And give Peter Wiggin the victory?"
"Why are you angry with Peter? What did he ever do but help you win your nation's freedom in every way that was possible to him?"
It was true. Why was she so angry?
Because he had beaten her.
"Peter Wiggin," said Suriyawong, "has the right of conquest. His troops destroyed your army in combat. He showed mercy he didn't have to show."
"You showed mercy."
"I followed Peter's instructions," said Suriyawong. "He does not want any foreign occupiers in India. He wants the Muslims out. He wants only Indians to govern Indians. Joining the FPE means exactly that. A free India. But an India that doesn't need, and therefore doesn't have, a military."
"A nation without an army is nothing," said Virlomi. "Any enemy can destroy them."
"That's the Hegemon's work in the world. He destroys the aggressors, so peaceful nations can remain free. India was the aggressor. Under your leadership, India was the invader. Now, instead of punishing your people, he offers them freedom and protection, if they only give up their weapons. Isn't that Satyagraha, Vir? To give up what you once valued, because now you serve a greater good?"
"Now you teach me about Satyagraha?"
"Hear the arrogance in your voice, Vir."
Abashed, she looked away from him.
"I teach you about Satyagraha because I lived it for years. Hiding myself utterly so that I would be the one Achilles trusted in the moment when I could betray him and save the world from him. I had no pride at the end of that. I had lived in filth and shame for...forever. But Bean took me back and trusted me. And Peter Wiggin acted as if he had known all along who I really was. They accepted my sacrifice.
"Now I ask you, Vir, for your sacrifice. Your Satyagraha. Once you put everything on the altar of India. Then your pride nearly undid what you had accomplished. I ask you now, will you help your people live in peace, the only way that peace can be had in this world? By joining with the Free People of Earth?"
She felt the tears streaming down her face.
Like that day when she was making the video of the atrocities.
Only today she was the one who had caused the deaths of all these Indian boys. They came here to die because they loved and served her. She owed their families something.
"Whatever will help my people live in peace," she said, "I'll do."
25
LETTERS
From:
[email protected] To: Graff%
[email protected] Re: Did we actually do it?
I can't believe you still have me hooked up to the nets. This continues by ansible after we're moving at relativistic speeds?
The babies are fine here. There's room enough for them to crawl. A library big enough I think they won't lack for interesting reading or viewing material for...weeks. It will only be weeks, right?
What I'm wondering is: did we do it? Did I fulfil your goal? I look at the map, and there's still nothing inevitable about it. Han Tzu gave his farewell speech, just like Vlad and Alai and Virlomi. Makes me feel cheated. They got to bid the world farewell before they disappeared into this good night. Then again, they had nations to try to sway. I never really had anybody who followed me. Never wanted them. That's the thing, I guess, that set me apart from the rest of the Jeesh--I was the only one who didn't wish I were Ender.
So look at the map, Hyrum. Will they buy Han Tzu's plan of dividing China into six nations and all of them joining the Free Peoples? Or will they stay unified and still join? Or look for another Emperor? Will India recover from the humiliation of Virlomi's defeat? Will they follow her advice and embrace the FPE? Nothing's assured, and I have to go.
I know, you'll tell me by ansible when anything interesting happens. And in a way, I don't care. I'm not going to be there, I'm not going to have any effect on it.
In another way, I care even less than that. Because I never did care.
Yet I also care with my whole heart. Because Petra is there with the only babies I actually wanted--the ones that don't have my defects. With me I have only the cripples. And my only fear is that I'll die before I've taught them anything.
Don't be ashamed when you see your life coming to an end and you haven't found a cure for me yet. I never believed in the cure. I thought there was enough of a chance to take this leap into the night, and cure or not, I knew that I didn't want my defective children to live long enough to make my mistake and reproduce, and keep this valuable, terrible curse going on, generation after generation. Whatever happens, it's all right.
And then it occurs to me. What if Sister Carlotta was right? What if God is waiting for me with open arms? Then all I'm doing is postponing my reunion. I think of meeting God. Will it be like when I met my father and mother? (I almost wrote: Nikolai's parents.) I liked them. I wanted to love them. But I knew that Nikolai was the child she bore, the child they raised. And I was...from nowhere. And for me, my father was a little girl named Poke, and my mother was Sister Carlotta, and they were dead. Who were these other people really?
Will meeting God be like that? Will I be disappointed with the real thing, because I prefer the substitute I made do with?
Like it or not, Hyrum, you were God in my life. I didn't invite you, I didn't even like you, but you kept MEDDLING. And now you've sent me into outer darkness with a promise to save me. A promise I don't believe you can keep. But at least YOU aren't a stranger. I know you. And I think that you honestly meant well. If I have to choose between an omnipotent God who leaves the world in this condition, and a God who has only a little bit of power but really cares and tries to make things better, I'll take you every time. Go on playing God, Hyrum. You're not bad at it. Sometimes you kind of get it right.
Why am I writing like this? We can email whenever we want. The thing is, nothing's going to happen here, so I'll have nothing to tell you. And nothing you have to tell me is going to matter to me all that much, the farther I get from Earth. So this is the right time for these valedictories.
I hope Peter succeeds in uniting the world in peace. I believe he's still got a couple of big wars ahead of him.
I hope Petra remarries. When she asks you what you think, tell her I said this: I want my children to have a father in their lives. Not some absent legend of a father--a real one. So as long as she chooses somebody who'll love them and tell them they've done ok, then do it. Be happy.
I hope you live to see colonies established and the human race thriving on other worlds. It's a good dream.
I hope these crippled children I have with me find something interesting to do with their lives after I'm dead.
I hope Sister Carlotta and Poke are there to meet me when I die. Sister Carlotta can tell me I told you so. And I can tell them both how sorry I am that I couldn't save their lives, after all the trouble they went to to save mine.
Enough. Time to switch on the gravity regulator and get this boat out to sea.
From: Graff%
[email protected] To:
[email protected] Re: You did enough
You did enough, Bean. You only had a little time, and you sacrificed so much of it to helping Peter and me and Mazer. All that time that could have belonged to Petra and you and your babies. You did enough. Peter can take it from here.
As for all that God business--I don't think the real God has as bad a track record as you think. Sure, a lot of people have terrible lives, by some measure. But I can't think of anybody who's had it tougher than you. And look what you've become. You don't want to give God the credit because you don't think he exists. But if you're going to blame him for all the crap, kid, you got to give h
im credit for what grows from that fertilized soil.
What you said about Petra getting a real father for your kids. I know you weren't talking about yourself. But I have to say it, because it's true, and you deserve to hear it.
Bean, I'm proud of you. I'm proud of myself because I actually got to know you. I remember sitting there after you figured out what was really going on in the war against the Buggers. What do I do with this kid? We can't keep a secret from him.
What I decided was: I'll trust him.
You lived up to my trust. You exceeded it. You're a great soul. I looked up to you long before you got so tall.
You did ok.
The plebiscite was over in Russia and it joined the FPE. The Muslim League was broken up and the most belligerent nations had been subdued, for now. Armenia was safe.
Petra sent her army home on the same civilian trains that had brought them to Moscow.
It had taken a year.
During that time she missed her babies. But she couldn't bear to see them. She refused to let them be brought to her. She refused to take even a brief leave to see them.
Because she knew that when she came home, there would only be five of them. And the two she knew the best and therefore loved the best would not be there.
Because she knew that she would have to face the rest of her life without Bean.
So she kept herself busy--and there was no shortage of important work to do. She told herself--next week I'll take a leave and go home.
Then her father came to her and bulled his way past the aides and clerks that fenced her off from the outside world. Truth to tell, they were probably glad to see him and let him through. Because Petra was hell on wheels and terrified everybody around her.
Father came to her with an attitude of steel. "Get out of here," he said.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your mother and I lost half your childhood because they took you away. You're cheating yourself out of some of the sweetest time in the lives of your children. Why? What are you afraid of? The great soldier, and babies terrify you?"
"I don't want this conversation," she said. "I'm an adult. I make my own decisions."
"You don't grow out of being my daughter." Father said. Then he loomed over her, and for a moment she had a childish fear that he was going to...to...spank her.
All he did was put his arms around her and hug her. Tight.
"You're suffocating me, Papa."
"Then it's working."
"I mean it."
"If you have breath to argue with me, then I'm not done."
She laughed.
He let her out of the hug but still held her shoulders. "You wanted these children more than anything, and you were right. Now you want to avoid them because you think you can't bear the grief of the ones that aren't there. And I tell you, you're wrong. And I know. Because I was there for Stefan, during all the years you were gone. I didn't hide from him because I didn't have you."
"I know you're right," said Petra. "You think I'm stupid? I didn't decide not to see them. I just kept putting it off."
"Your mother and I have written to Peter, begging him to order you home. And all he said was, She'll come when she can't help it."
"You couldn't listen to him? He is the Hegemon of the whole world."
"Not even half the world yet," said Father. "And he might be Hegemon of nations, but he's got no authority inside my family."
"Thank you for coming, Papa. I'm demobilizing my troops tomorrow and sending them home across borders where they won't need passports because it's all part of the Free People of Earth. I did something while I was here. But now I'm done. I was going home anyway. But now I'll do it because you told me to. See? I'm willing to be obedient, as long as you order me to do what I was going to do anyway."
The Free People of Earth had four capitals now--Bangkok had been added to Rwanda, Rotterdam, and Blackstream. But it was Blackstream--Ribeirao Preto--where the Hegemon lived. And that was where Peter had had her children moved. He hadn't even asked her permission and it made her furious when he informed her what he had done. But she was busy in Russia and Peter said that Rotterdam wasn't home to her and it wasn't home to him and he was going home, and keeping her kids where he could make sure they were getting cared for.
So it was Brazil she came home to. And it did feel good. Moscow's winter had been a nightmare, even worse than Armenia's winters. And she liked the feel of Brazil, the pace of life, the way they moved, the football in the streets, the way they were never quite dressed, the music of the Portuguese language coming out of the neighborhood bars along with batuque and samba and laughter and the pungent smell of pinga.
She took a car part of the way but then paid him and told him to deliver her bags to the compound and she walked the rest of the way. Without actually planning it, she found herself walking past the little house where she and Bean had lived when they weren't inside the compound.
The house had been changed. She realized: It was connected to the house next door by a couple of rooms added in, and the garden wall between them had been torn down. It was one big house now.
What a shame. They can't leave well enough alone.
Then she saw the name on the little sign on the wall beside the gate.
Delphiki.
She opened the gate without clapping hands for permission. She knew now what had happened, but she also couldn't believe that Peter had gone to such trouble.
She opened the door and walked in and...
There was Bean's mother in the kitchen, making something that had a lot of olives and garlic in it.
"Oh," said Petra. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you--I thought you were in Greece."
The smile on Mrs. Delphiki's face was all the answer Petra needed. "Of course you come in, it's your house. I'm the visitor. Welcome home!"
"You came to--you're here to take care of the babies."
"We work for the FPE now. And our jobs brought us here. But I couldn't stand to be away from my grandchildren. I took a leave of absence. Now I cook, and change nasty diapers, and scream at the empregadas."
"Where are the..."
"Naptime!" said Mrs. Delphiki. "But I promise you, little Andrew, he's only faking. He never sleeps, whenever I go in his eyes are just a little tiny bit open."
"They won't know me," said Petra.
She dismissed that with a wave. "Of course not. But you think they're going to remember that? Nothing that happens before age three."
"I'm so glad to see you. Did...did he say good-bye to you?"
"He wasn't sentimental that way," said Mrs. Delphiki. "But yes, he called us. And sent us nice letters. I think it hit Nikolai harder than us, because he knew Julian better. From Battle School, you know. But Nikolai is married now, did you know? So pretty soon, maybe another grandchild. Not that we have a shortage. You and Julian did very well by us."
"If I'm very quiet and don't wake them, can I go see them?"
"We divided them into two rooms. Andrew shares one room with Bella, because he never sleeps, but she can sleep through anything. Julian and Petra and Ramon are in the other room. They need it dimmer. But if you wake them, it's not a problem. All their cribs have the sides down because they climb out anyway."
"They're walking?"
"Running. Climbing. Falling off things. They're more than a year old, Petra! They're normal children!"
It almost set her off, because it reminded her of the children who weren't normal. But that wasn't what Mrs. Delphiki meant, and there was no reason to punish her for a chance remark by bursting into tears.
So the two who bore the names of the children she grieved for most were sharing a room. She had courage enough to face this. She went there first.
Nothing about these babies reminded her of the ones who were gone. They were so big. Toddlers, not babies now. And, true to reputation, Andrew's eyes were already open. He turned to look at her.
She smiled at him.
He closed his eye
s and pretended to be asleep.
Well, let him retreat and decide what he thinks of me. I'm not going to demand that they love me when they don't even know me.
She walked to Bella's crib. She was sleeping hard, her black curls tight and wet against her head. The Delphiki genetic heritage was so complicated. Bella really showed Bean's African roots. Whereas Andrew looked Armenian, period.
She touched one of Bella's curls and the girl didn't stir. Her cheek was hot and damp.
She's mine, thought Petra.
She turned and saw that Andrew was sitting up in bed, regarding her soberly. "Hello, Mama," he said.
It took her breath away.
"How did you know me?"
"Picture," he said.
"Do you want to get up?"
He looked at the clock on the top of the dresser. "Not time."
These were normal children?
How would Mrs. Delphiki know what normal was, anyway? Nikolai wasn't exactly stupid.
Though they weren't so brilliant. They were both wearing diapers.
Petra walked over to Andrew and held out her hand. What do I think he is, a dog that I give my hand to sniff?
Andrew took hold of a couple of her fingers, just for a moment, as if to make sure she was real. "Hello, Mama."
"May I kiss you?"
He lifted his face and puckered up. She leaned down and kissed him.
The touch of his hands. The feel of his little kiss. The curl on Bella's cheek. What had she been waiting for? Why had she been afraid? Fool. I'm a fool.
Andrew lay back down and closed his eyes. As Mrs. Delphiki had warned, it was completely unbelievable. She could see the whites of his eyes through the partly-open slits.
"I love you," she whispered.
"Loveyoutoo," murmured Andrew.
Petra was glad that someone had said those words to him so often that the answer came by rote.
She crossed the hall into the other room. It was much darker. She couldn't see well enough to dare to cross the room. It took a few moments for her eyes to grow used to the dark and make out the three beds.
Would she know Ramon when she saw him?
Someone moved to her left. She was startled, and she was a soldier. In a moment she was in a defensive crouch, ready to spring.
"Only me," whispered Peter Wiggin.
"You didn't have to come and--"