Ender in Exile

by Orson Scott Card

  Ender stepped out of the shadows. "Ho, Achilles."

  It took half a second--half a step--for Achilles to realize what name Ender had addressed him by.

  "The name you call yourself in private," said Ender. "In your dreams."

  How could he know? What was he?

  "You have no access to my dreams," said Achilles.

  "I want you to know," said Ender, "that I've been pleading with Virlomi to commute your sentence. Because I have to leave on this ship, when it goes, and I don't want to go back to Earth."

  "I would think not," said Achilles. "They're howling for your blood there."

  "For the moment," said Ender. "These things come and go."

  No apparent recognition that Achilles was the one who had made all this happen.

  "I have an errand to run, and taking you back to Earth as an exile will waste my time. I think I've almost got her persuaded that the Free People of Earth never gave governors the right to throw back colonists they don't want."

  "I'm not afraid to return to Earth."

  "That's what I was afraid of--that you did all this in hopes of being sent there. 'Please don't throw me in the briar patch!'"

  "They read you Uncle Remus stories at bedtime in Battle School?" asked Achilles.

  "Before I went there. Did your mother read those tales to you?"

  Achilles realized that he was being led off on a tangent. He resolutely returned to the subject.

  "I said I'm not afraid to return to Earth," said Achilles. "Nor do I think you've been pleading for me with Virlomi."

  "Believe what you want," said Ender. "You've been surrounded by lies all your life--who could expect you to notice when a true thing finally came along?"

  Here it came--the beginning of the taunts that would goad Achilles into action. What Ender could not understand was that Achilles came here precisely so that he could be goaded, so that Ender could then kill him in "self-defense."

  "Are you calling my mother a liar?"

  "Haven't you wondered why you're so tall? Your mother isn't tall. Achilles Flandres wasn't tall."

  "We'll never know how tall he might have grown," said Achilles.

  "I know why you're as big as you are," said Ender. "It's a genetic condition. You grow at a single, steady rate all your life. Small as a child, then about normal size when suddenly all the other kids shoot up with the puberty growth spurt and you fall behind again. But they stop growing; you don't. On and on. Eventually you'll die of it. You're sixteen now; probably by twenty-one or twenty-two your heart will give out from trying to supply blood to a body that's far too large."

  Achilles didn't know how to process this. What was he talking about? Telling him that he was going to die in his twenties? Was this some kind of voodoo to unnerve his opponent?

  But Ender wasn't through. "Some of your brothers and sisters had the condition; some didn't. We didn't know about you, not with certainty. Not until I saw you and realized that you were becoming a giant, like your father."

  "Don't talk about my father," said Achilles. Meanwhile, he thought: Why am I afraid of what you're saying? Why am I so angry?

  "But I was so glad to see you, anyway. Even though your life will be tragically short, I looked at you--when you turned around like that, mocking me--I saw your father, I saw your mother in you."

  "My mother? I don't look anything like my mother."

  "I don't mean the surrogate mother who raised you."

  "So you're trying to get me to attack you by goading me exactly the way Virlomi did," said Achilles. "Well it won't work." Yet as he said it, it was working; and he was willing to have the wrath rise within him. Because he had to make it believable, that Ender goaded him into attacking, so that when Ender killed him everyone who saw the vids would know that it wasn't really self-defense at all. They'd realize it had never been self-defense.

  "I knew your father best of all the kids in Battle School. He was better than I was--did you know that? All of the jeesh knew it--he was quicker and smarter. But he always was loyal to me. At the last moment, when it all looked so hopeless, he knew what to do. He virtually told me what to do. And yet he left it to me. He was generous. He was truly great. It broke my heart to learn how his body betrayed him. The way it's betraying you."

  "Suriyawong betrayed him," said Achilles. "Julian Delphiki killed him."

  "And your mother," said Ender. "She was my protector. When I got put into an army whose commander hated me, she was the one who took me under her wing. I relied on her, I trusted her, and within the limitations of a human body, she never let me down. When I heard that she and your father had married, it made me so happy. But then your father died, and eventually she married my brother."

  Comprehension almost blinded him with fury. "Petra Arkanian? You're saying Petra Arkanian is my mother? Are you insane? She was the one that first set the traps for my father, luring him--"

  "Come now, Achilles," said Ender. "Surely by the age of sixteen you've recognized that your surrogate mother is insane."

  "She's my mother!" cried Achilles. And then, only as an afterthought, and weakly, he said, "And she's not insane."

  This is not going right. What is he saying? What kind of game is this?

  "You look exactly like them. More like your father than like your mother. When I see you, I see my dear friend Bean."

  "Julian Delphiki is not my father!" Achilles could hardly see for rage. His heart was pounding. This was exactly how it was supposed to go.

  Except for one thing. His feet were rooted to the ground. He wasn't attacking Ender Wiggin. He was just standing there and taking it.

  It was in that moment that Valentine Wiggin jogged into the clearing behind the compost bins. "What are you doing? Are you insane?"

  "There's a lot of that going around," said Ender.

  "Get away from here," she said. "He's not worth it."

  "Valentine," he said, "you don't know what you're doing. If you interfere in any way, you'll destroy me. Do you understand me? Have I ever lied to you?"

  "Constantly."

  "Neglecting to tell you things is not lying," said Ender.

  "I'm not going to let this happen. I know what you're planning."

  "With all due respect, Val, you don't know anything."

  "I know you, Ender, better than you know yourself."

  "But you don't know this boy who calls himself by the name of a monster because he thinks the madman was his father."

  For a few moments Achilles' anger had dissipated, but now it was coming back. "My father was a genius."

  "Not incompatible concepts," said Valentine dismissively. To Ender, she said, "It won't bring them back."

  "Right now," said Ender, "if you love me, you'll stop talking."

  His voice was like a lash--not loud, but sharp and with true aim. She recoiled as if he had struck her. Yet she opened her mouth to answer.

  "If you love me," he said.

  "I think what your brother is trying to tell you," said Achilles, "is that he has a plan."

  "My plan," said Ender, "is to tell you who you are. Julian Delphiki and Petra Arkanian lived in hiding because Achilles Flandres had agents seeking them, wanting to kill them--especially because he had once desired Petra, after his sick fashion."

  The rage was rising in Achilles again. And he welcomed it. Valentine's coming had almost ruined everything.

  "They had nine fertilized eggs that they entrusted to a doctor who promised he could purge them of the genetic condition that you have--the giantism. But he was a fraud--as your present condition indicates. He was really working for Achilles, and he stole the embryos. Your mother gave birth to one; we found seven others that were implanted in surrogate mothers. But Hyrum Graff always suspected that they found those seven because Achilles meant them to be found, so that the searchers would think their methods were working. Knowing Achilles, Graff was sure the ninth baby would not be found by the same methods. Then your mother spat on Hyrum Graff and he began to look int
o her past and found out that her name wasn't Nichelle Firth, it was Randi. And when he looked at the DNA records, he found that you had no genes in common with your supposed mother. You were not in any way her genetic child."

  "That's a lie," said Achilles. "You're saying it only to provoke me."

  "I'm saying it because it's true, in the hope that it will liberate you. The other children were found and returned to their parents. Five of them didn't have your genetic disorder, your giantism, and all five of them are still alive on Earth. Bella, Andrew--named for me, I must point out--Julian the Third, Petra, and Ramon. Three of your siblings were giants, and of course they're gone now--Ender, Cincinnatus, Carlotta. You're the extra one, the missing one that they gave up looking for. The one they never got to name. But your last name is Delphiki. I knew your parents and I loved them dearly. You are not the child of a monster, you're the child of two of the best people who ever lived."

  "Julian Delphiki is the monster!" cried Achilles, and he lunged at Ender.

  To his surprise, Ender made no evasive maneuver. Achilles' blow landed squarely and sent Ender sprawling onto the ground.

  "No!" cried Valentine.

  Ender picked himself up calmly and rose to face him again. "You know that I'm telling you the truth," said Ender. "That's why you're so angry."

  "I'm angry because you say I'm the son of the killer of my father!"

  "Achilles Flandres murdered everyone who showed him kindness. A nun who arranged for his crippled leg to be restored. The surgeon who fixed the leg. A girl who took him in when he was the least successful street bully in Rotterdam--he pretended to love her, but then he strangled her and threw her body in the Rhine. He blew up the house where your father was living, in the effort to kill him and his whole family. He kidnapped Petra and tried to seduce her but she despised him. It was Julian Delphiki that she loved. You are their child, born of their love and hope."

  Achilles rushed at him again--but deliberately made it a clumsy move, so that Ender would have plenty of time to block him, to strike at him.

  But again Ender made no move to step away. He took the blow, this time a deep punch in the stomach, and fell to the ground, gasping, retching.

  And then rose up again. "I know you better than you know yourself," said Ender.

  "You're the father of lies," said Achilles.

  "Never call yourself by that vile name again. You're not Achilles. Your father is the hero who rid the world of that monster."

  Again Achilles struck at him--this time walking up slowly and bringing his fist hugely into Ender's nose, breaking it. Blood spurted from his nostrils and covered the front of his shirt almost instantly.

  Valentine cried out as Ender staggered and then fell to his knees.

  "Fight me," hissed Achilles.

  "Don't you get it?" said Ender. "I will never raise my hand against the son of my friends."

  Achilles kicked him in the jaw so hard it flung him over backward. This was no staged fight like in the silly vids, where the hero and the villain delivered killing blows, yet their opponent got up to fight again. The damage to Ender's body was deep and real. It made him clumsy and unbalanced. An easy target.

  He's not going to kill me, thought Achilles.

  It came to him as such a relief that he laughed aloud.

  And then he thought: It's Mother's plan after all. Why did I ever imagine I should let him kill me? I'm the son of Achilles Flandres. His true son. I can kill the ones who need killing. I can end this pernicious life, once and for all, avenging my father and the hive queens and those two boys that Ender killed.

  Achilles kicked Ender in the ribs as he lay on his back in the grass. The ribs broke so loudly that even Valentine could hear them; she screamed.

  "Hush," said Ender. "This is how it goes."

  Then Ender rolled over--wincing, then crying out softly with the pain. Yet he managed, somehow, to rise to his feet.

  Whereupon he put his hands in his pockets.

  "You can destroy the vids you're recording," said Ender. "No one will know that you murdered me. They won't believe Valentine. So you can claim self-defense. Everyone will believe it--you've made them hate me and fear me. Of course you had to kill me to save your own life."

  Ender wanted to die? Now? At Achilles' hand? "What's your game?" Achilles asked.

  "Your supposed mother raised you to take vengeance for her fantasy lover, your fraudulent father. Do it--do what she raised you to do, be who she planned you to be. But I will not raise my hand against the son of my friends, no matter how deluded you are."

  "Then you're the fool," said Achilles. "Because I will do it. For my father's sake, and my mother's, for that poor boy Stilson, and Bonzo Madrid, and the formics, and the whole human race."

  Achilles began the beating in earnest then. Another blow to the belly. Another blow to the face. Two more kicks to the body as he lay unmoving on the ground. "Is this what you did to the Stilson boy?" he asked. "Kicking him again and again--that's what the report said."

  "Son," said Ender. "Of my friends."

  "Please," begged Valentine. Yet she made no move to stop him. Nor did she summon help.

  "Now it's time for you to die," said Achilles.

  A kick to the head would do it. And if it didn't, two kicks. The human brain could not stand being rattled around inside the skull like that. Either dead or so brain-damaged he might as well be. That was how the life of Ender the Xenocide would end.

  He approached Wiggin's supine body. The eyes were looking up at him through the blood still pouring from his broken nose.

  But for some reason, despite the hot rage pounding in his own head, Achilles did not kick him.

  Stood there unmoving.

  "The son of Achilles would do it," whispered Ender.

  Why am I not killing him? Am I a coward after all? Am I so unworthy of my father? Ender is right--my father would have killed him because it was necessary, without any qualms, without this hesitation.

  In that moment, he saw what all of Ender's words really meant. Mother had been deceived. She had been told the child was Achilles Flandres's. She had lied to him as he grew up, telling him that he was her son, but she was only a surrogate. He knew her well enough by now to recognize that her stories were shaped more by what she needed the truth to be than by what it actually was. Why hadn't he reached the obvious conclusion--that everything she said was a lie? Because she never let up, not for an instant. She shaped his world and did not allow any contrary evidence to come to light.

  The way the teachers manipulated the children who fought the war for them.

  Achilles knew it, had always known it. Ender Wiggin won a war that he didn't know he was fighting; he slaughtered a species that he thought was just a computer simulation. The way that I believed that Achilles Flandres was my father, that I bore his name and had a duty to fulfil his destiny or avenge his murder.

  Surround a child with lies, and he clings to them like a teddy bear, like his mother's hand. And the worse, the darker the lie, the more deeply he has to draw it inside himself in order to bear the lie at all.

  Ender said he would rather die than raise his hand against the son of his friends. And he was not a lunatic like Achilles' mother was.

  Achilles. He was not Achilles. That was his mother's fantasy. It was all his mother's fantasy. He knew she was crazy, and yet he lived inside her nightmare and shaped his life to make it come true.

  "What is my name?" he whispered.

  On the ground at his feet, Ender whispered back: "Don't know. Delphiki. Arkanian. Their faces. In yours."

  Valentine was beside them now. "Please," she said. "Can this be over now?"

  "I knew," whispered Ender. "Bean's son. Petra's. Could never."

  "Could never what? He's broken your nose. He could have killed you."

  "I was going to," said Achilles. And then the enormity of it washed over him. "I was going to kill him with a kick to the head."

  "And the stupid fool would hav
e let you," said Valentine.

  "One chance," said Ender. "In five. Kill me. Good odds."

  "Please," said Valentine. "I can't carry him. Bring him to the doctor. Please. You're strong enough."

  Only when he bent down and lifted Ender up did he realize how badly he had damaged his own hands, so hard had been his blows.

  What if he dies? What if he still dies, even though I don't want him dead now after all?

  He bore Ender with studied haste along the ragged ground and Valentine had to jog to keep up. They reached the doctor's house long before he was due to leave for the clinic. He took one look at Ender and had him brought in at once for an emergency examination. "I can see who lost," said the doctor. "But who won?"

  "Nobody," said...Achilles.

  "There's not a mark on you," said the doctor.

  He held out his hands. "Here are the marks," he said. "I did this."

  "He never landed a blow on you."

  "He never tried."

  "And you kept on beating him? Like this? What kind of..." But then the doctor turned back to his work, stripping the clothes off Ender's body, cursing softly at the huge bruises on his ribs and belly, feeling for the breaks. "Four ribs. And multiple breaks." He looked up at Achilles again, this time with loathing on his face. "Get out of my house," he said.

  Achilles started to go.

  "No," said Valentine. "This was all according to his plan."

  The doctor snorted. "Oh, yes, he plotted his own beating."

  "Or his own death," said Valentine. "Whatever happened, he was content."

  "I planned this," said Achilles.

  "You only thought you did," said Valentine. "He manipulated you from the start. It's the family talent."

  "My mother manipulated," said Achilles. "But I didn't have to believe her. I did this."

  "No, Achilles," said Valentine. "Your mother's training did this. The lies Achilles told her did this. What you did was...stop."

  Achilles felt his body convulse with a sob and he sank to his knees. "I don't know what to call myself now," he said. "I hate the name she taught me."

  "Randall?" asked the doctor.

  "Not...no."