Ender in Exile

by Orson Scott Card

  "I don't know you," said Ender. "You made war against my friends. You liberated your country from the invaders. But then you became a vengeful invader yourself. I don't know what to do with this information. Let me make up my mind as I come to know you."

  Valentine spoke up for the first time since their initial greetings. "What is it that has happened that made you assure us that you told no one Ender was coming?"

  Virlomi turned to her respectfully. "It's part of the longstanding struggle between me and Randall Firth."

  "Isn't he still a child?"

  Virlomi laughed bitterly. "Do Battle School graduates really say such things to each other?"

  Ender chuckled. "Apparently so. How long has this struggle gone on?"

  "By the time he was twelve, he was such a precocious...orator...that he had the old settlers and the non-Indian colonists who came with me eating out of his hand. At first he was their clever mascot. Now he is something closer to a spiritual leader, a..."

  "A Virlomi," said Ender.

  "He has made himself into their equivalent of the way the Indian colonists regard me, yes," she said. "I never claimed to be a goddess."

  "Let's not argue such old issues."

  "I just want you to know the truth."

  "No, Virlomi," said Valentine, intruding again, or so Virlomi's expression seemed to say. "You deliberately constructed the goddess image, and when people asked you, you gave nondenial denials: 'Since when do goddesses walk the earth?' 'Would a goddess fail so often?' And the most loathsomely deceptive of them all: "What do you think?'"

  Virlomi sighed. "You have no mercy," she said.

  "No," said Valentine. "I have a lot of mercy. I just don't have any manners."

  "Yes," said Virlomi. "He has learned from watching me, how I handle the Indians, how they worship me. His group has no shared religion, no traditions in common. But he constructed one, especially because everyone knew that evil book The Hive Queen."

  "How is it evil?" asked Ender.

  "Because it's a pack of lies. Who could know what the hive queens thought or felt or remembered or tried to do? But it has turned the formics into tragic figures in the minds of the impressionable fools who memorize that damnable book."

  Ender chuckled. "Smart boy."

  "What?" Virlomi asked him, looking suspicious.

  "I assume you're telling me this because he somehow claims that he is the heir of the hive queens."

  "Which is absolutely absurd because ours is the first colony that was not founded on the ruins of formic civilization."

  "So how does he manage it?" asked Ender.

  "He claims that the Indian population--eighty percent of the total--are merely trying to reestablish here the exact culture they had on Earth. While he and the others are the ones who are trying to create something new. He really does have the gall to call his little movement the 'Natives of Ganges.' And he says we Indians are like the jackals who have settled other worlds--destroying the natives and then stealing all that they accomplished."

  "And people buy this?"

  "Oddly enough," she said, "not that many do. Most of the non-Indian colonists are trying to get along."

  "But some believe him," said Ender.

  "Millions."

  "There aren't that many colonists," said Valentine.

  "He isn't just playing to the local crowd," said Virlomi. "He sends his writings out by ansible. There are chapters of the Natives of Ganges in most of the major cities of Earth. Even in India. Millions, as I told you."

  Valentine sighed. "I saw them referred to only as 'the Natives' on the nets and I wasn't interested. That originated here?"

  "They regard The Hive Queen as their scripture, and the formics as their spiritual forebears," said Virlomi. "On Earth, their doctrine is almost the opposite of what Randall preaches here. They claim that the FPE should be abolished because it erases all the 'genuine,' 'native' cultures of Earth. They refuse to speak Common. They make a big show of following native religions."

  "While here, Randall condemns your people for doing exactly that," said Ender. "Preserving your culture from Earth."

  "Yes," said Virlomi. "But he claims it isn't inconsistent--this is not where Indian culture originated. It's a new place, and so he and his 'Natives of Ganges' are creating the real native culture of this world, instead of a warmed-over copy of an old one from Earth."

  Ender chuckled.

  "It's funny to you," Virlomi said.

  "Not at all," said Ender. "I'm just thinking that Graff really was such a genius. Not as smart as the kids he trained in Battle School, but...with Randall just an infant in his mother's arms, he knew that they would cause trouble."

  "And sent you to save me," she said.

  "I doubt you need saving," said Ender.

  "No, I don't," she said. "I've already dealt with it. I provoked him into assaulting me in my house. It's on vid and we've already held the trial and sentenced him to be exiled. He's going back to Earth--along with any of his malcontents who want to go with him."

  Ender shook his head. "And it doesn't occur to you that that's exactly what he wants you to do?"

  "Of course it did. But I also don't care, as long as I don't have to deal with him."

  Ender sighed. "Of course you care, Virlomi. If he already has a following there, and then he returns to Earth as an exile from what he calls his 'native world,' then you have just sown the seed that can bring down the FPE and restore the Earth to the miserable chaos of war and hatred that Peter Wiggin ended such a short time ago."

  "That's not my problem," said Virlomi.

  "Our generation is gone from power, Virlomi," said Ender, "except in a few remote colonies. Peter is dead. His successors are lackluster placeholders. Do you think they'll be competent to deal with this Randall Firth?"

  Virlomi hesitated. "No."

  "So if you knowingly infect someone with a virus that you know their body can't fight off, have you not murdered them?"

  Virlomi buried her face in her hands. "I know," she said. "I tried not to know, but I know."

  "What I can't yet determine," said Valentine, "is why your first words to us were a protest that you hadn't told anyone that Ender was coming. Why would that matter?"

  Virlomi raised her face. "Because at the trial and ever since then, he has been using you. And linking himself to his monster of a father. Who he thinks his father is."

  "Specifically," prompted Valentine.

  "He calls you 'Ender the Xenocide,'" said Virlomi. "He says you're the worst war criminal in all of history, because you were the one who slaughtered the native people of all these worlds so that the robbers could come in and steal their houses and lands."

  "Predictable," said Ender.

  "And Peter is called the 'Brother of the Xenocide,' who tried to extinguish all the native cultures of Earth."

  "Oh my," said Ender.

  "While Achilles Flandres was not a monster--that's just propaganda from the pro-xenocide party. He was the only one who stood against Peter's and Ender's evil plans. He tried to stop you in Battle School, so your friends got him sent back to be imprisoned in an insane asylum on Earth. Then, when he escaped and began his work of opposing the threat of the Hegemon becoming dictator of the world, Peter's propaganda mill went to work, slandering him." Virlomi sighed. "Here's the irony. Through all of this, he pretends to honor me greatly. As a hero who stood against the jeesh of the xenocides--Han Tzu, Alai, Petra, all who served with you."

  "And yet he struck you."

  "He states that he was provoked. That it was all a setup. That a man of his size--if he had meant to hurt me, I'd be dead. He was merely trying to wake me up to the enormity of the lies I was telling and believing. His followers accept this explanation completely. Or don't care whether it's true or not."

  "Well, it's nice that even while I'm in stasis, somebody found me useful," said Ender.

  "It's not a joke," said Virlomi. "All over the nets, his revisionist view is gaining mo
re and more acceptance. All the nonsense from Graff's court martial came into even more prominence. Pictures of the dead bodies of...those bullies..."

  "Oh, I can guess," said Ender.

  "You had to know before you got off the shuttle," said Virlomi. "He can't have known you were coming. He just chose this time to invoke your name. I think it's because I was using Achilles' name as the symbol of a monster. So he decided to use your name to outmonster Achilles. If it weren't for that horrible pack of lies called The Hive Queen, he wouldn't have found so much fertile ground for his nonsense."

  "I did everything he accuses me of," said Ender. "Those boys died. So did all the formics."

  "But you're not a murderer. I read those trial transcripts too, you know. I understood--I was in Battle School, I talked to people who knew you, we all knew how the adults shaped our lives and controlled us. And we all recognized that your devastating self-defense was perfect military doctrine."

  Ender did what he always did when somebody tried to exonerate him--he shunted her words aside without comment. "Well, Virlomi, I'm not sure what you think I should do about this."

  "You could get back on the ship and go."

  "Is that what you're asking me to do?" asked Ender.

  "He's not here to take over your job," said Valentine. "He's not a threat to you."

  Virlomi laughed. "I'm not trying to get rid of your brother, Valentine. He's welcome to stay. If he does, then I will definitely need and take his help and advice. For my own sake, I'm happy he's here. Randall will have no choice but to turn all his hatred onto you. Please, stay."

  "I'm glad you asked," said Ender. "I accept."

  "No," said Valentine. "This is the kind of situation that leads to violence."

  "I promise not to kill anybody, Valentine," said Ender.

  "I'm talking about violence against you," she said.

  "So am I," said Ender.

  "If he chooses to whip a mob into a frenzy--"

  "No," said Virlomi. "You have nothing to fear on that score. We will protect you fully."

  "Nobody can protect anybody fully," said Valentine.

  "Oh, I'm sure Virlomi's people will do a splendid job," said Ender. "As I said, I accept your kind invitation. Now, let's leave this boat and go ashore, neh?"

  "As you wish," said Virlomi. "I'll be glad to have you. But I also warned you, and as long as this ship is still here, you're free to move on. You won't like it when Randall turns his wrath on you. He has a way with words."

  "Just words?" said Ender. "So he's nonviolent?"

  "So far," said Virlomi.

  "Then I'm safe," said Ender. "Thank you for the great honor you paid me. Please let it be known that I'm here. And that I really am that Andrew Wiggin."

  "Are you sure?" asked Virlomi.

  "Insane people are always sure," said Valentine.

  Ender laughed, and so Virlomi did, too--a nervous chuckle.

  "I'd invite you to join me for supper tonight," said Virlomi, "only one of my affectations is to eat little, and of course, as a Hindu, I eat an entirely vegetarian cuisine."

  "Sounds excellent," said Valentine.

  "Tell us when and where, and we'll be there," said Ender.

  With a few more parting words, Virlomi left.

  Valentine turned on Ender, angry and sad, both at once. "Did you bring me here to watch you die?"

  "I didn't bring you anywhere," said Ender. "You just came."

  "That doesn't answer my question."

  "Everyone dies, Valentine. Mother and Father are dead. Peter is dead. Graff is probably dead by now."

  "You forget that I know you, Ender," said Valentine. "You have decided to die. You've decided to provoke this boy into killing you."

  "Why would you think that?"

  "Look at the names you chose for passwords, Ender! You can't live with the guilt."

  "Not guilt, Val," said Ender. "Responsibility."

  "Don't make this boy kill you," said Valentine.

  "I won't make anybody do anything. How about that?"

  "I should have stayed home and watched Peter conquer the world."

  "Oh, no, Valentine. We're on a much more interesting trajectory through space-time."

  "I'm not going to sleep through my life like you are, Ender. I have work to do. I'm going to write my histories. I'm not burdened with a death wish."

  "If I wished to be dead," said Ender, "I would have let Bonzo Madrid and his friends beat my brains out in a bathroom in Battle School."

  "I know you," said Valentine.

  "I know you think you do," said Ender. "And if I die, you'll think I chose to. The truth is much more complicated. I don't intend to die. But I'm not afraid of the risk of death. Sometimes a soldier has to put himself in harm's way in order to achieve victory."

  "It's not your war," said Valentine.

  Ender laughed. "It's always my war."

  CHAPTER 22

  To: VWiggin%Ganges@ColLeague.Adm/voy

  From: AWiggin%Ganges@ColLeague.Adm/voy

  Subj: If I am dead

  Dear Val,

  I don't expect to be dead. I expect to be alive, in which case, you won't receive this, because I will keep sending the do-not-deliver code until after the coming confrontation.

  This is about the case. The code to unlock it is the name of your favorite stuffed animal when you were six. When you open it, hold what you find in your hands for a good long time. If you come up with some good ideas, then act on them; otherwise, please repack the item exactly as you found it, and arrange to ship it to Abra Tolo on Shakespeare with a message: "This is what I found that day. Please don't let it be destroyed."

  But you won't need this, because, as is my fashion, I expect to win.

  Love,

  your demanding and mysterious little brother,

  Ender

  or, I suppose I should now say: Ended

  Since the starship had not arrived full of new colonists, it was almost inconsequential to most of the people of the city of Andhra. Of course everyone turned out to watch the shuttle land. And there was some commotion as a few trade goods were loaded off and many supplies were loaded on. But the tasks being carried out were repetitive and people quickly lost interest and went back to their work. Governor Virlomi's visit to the shuttle was taken as good manners by those who heard about it--few knew or cared what the ordinary protocol would be, and so didn't realize that it had been altered. And those who did know simply took it as part of Virlomi's character--or her pose--that she did not make the visitors come to her.

  Only when that evening's supper saw strangers come to Virlomi's house--which Achilles and his fellow "Natives of Ganges" liked to refer to as "the governor's mansion"--did anyone's curiosity get aroused. A teenage boy; a young woman of about twenty. Why were they the only passengers on the starship? Why was Virlomi giving them special honors? Were they new colonists or government officials or...what?

  Since this was the ship that was supposed to take Achilles into exile for his "crime" of striking the governor, he was, quite naturally, anxious to find out anything he could to derail the plan. These guests were unusual, unexpected, unannounced, unexplained. That had to mean they presented an opportunity to embarrass Virlomi, at the very least--to stymie her or destroy her, if things went well.

  It took two days of having his supporters consort with the crew before someone finally got their hands on the manifest and discovered the names of the passengers. Valentine Wiggin, student. Andrew Wiggin, student.

  Student?

  Achilles didn't even have to look anything up. The ship's last call had been to Shakespeare Colony. Up to the time of that ship's arrival, the governor of Shakespeare had been Andrew Wiggin, retired admiral of the I.F. and much-cited commander of the I.F. forces in the Third Formic War. Two starflights at relativistic speed explained the boy's age. Boy? One year older than Achilles.

  Wiggin was tall, but Achilles was taller; strong, but Achilles was stronger. Wiggin was chosen for Batt
le School because he was smart, but Achilles had never encountered anyone in his life who was as intelligent as he. Virlomi was Battle School bright--but she forgot things that he remembered, overlooked things that he noticed, thought two moves ahead instead of ten. And she was the closest to being in his league.

  Achilles had learned to conceal just how intelligent he was, and to treat others as if he thought them his equal. But he knew the truth and counted on it: He was quicker, smarter, deeper, subtler than anyone else. Hadn't he, as a mere boy on a faraway colony world, using only the lowest-priority ansible messaging, created a significant political movement on Earth?

  Even intelligent people are sometimes just plain lucky. Wiggin's arrival just at this time clearly fell into that category. Wiggin couldn't have known that he was coming to the colony where dwelt the son of Achilles the Great, whom Ender's brother had arranged to murder. And when Achilles-who-was-called-Randall launched his attack on the reputation of Ender Wiggin, labeling him as Ender the Xenocide, he had no idea that within the month that very Andrew Wiggin would be having supper at Virlomi's house.

  It was an easy thing to get pictures of Virlomi and Wiggin together. It was just as easy to get, from the nets, pictures of Peter the Hegemon at roughly the same age as Ender was now. Juxtaposing their pictures made it easy to see they were brothers, the resemblance was so strong. Achilles then put pictures of Ender and Virlomi, so that anyone could see that Peter's brother was consorting with the anti-native governor of Ganges.

  Never mind that it was Peter who had sent Virlomi into exile. Achilles dismissed that as an obvious fraud--Virlomi had been part of Peter's conspiracy all along. Her consorting with Ender Wiggin proved it, if anyone had doubts.

  Now Achilles could paint his exile as the result of an obvious conspiracy between Virlomi and her Wiggin masters--Ender's sister was along for the ride. They were exiling him so that Wiggin's xenocidal, anti-native plots could proceed on Ganges without opposition.

  It would take a week for any of this story to reach Earth, but the computers worked impartially, and Virlomi couldn't stop him from sending them. And locally, the story and pictures went up immediately.

  Achilles watched with delight as people began watching the Wiggins' every move. Everything he did or said was seen through the lens of Achilles' accusations. Even the Indians, who regarded Achilles with suspicion or hostility, were convinced by the pictures that Achilles was not lying. What was going on?