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: Bean@Whereverthehelliam
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 him credit for what grows from that fertilised 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 demobilising 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—Ribeirdo 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 neighbourhood 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 realised: 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..."
"Nap time!" 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 eyes 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—"
He held a finger to his lips. He walked over to the farthest crib. "Ramon," he whispered.
She came and stood over the crib.
Peter reached down and flipped something. A paper.
"What is it?" she asked. In a whisper.
He shrugged.
If he didn't know what it was, why had he pointed it out to her?
She pulled it out from under Ramon. It was an envelope, but it didn't contain much.
Peter took her gently by the elbow and guided her out the door. Once they were in the hall, he said softly, "You can't read in that light. And when Ramon wakes up, he's going to look for it and be very upset if it isn't there."
"What is it?"
"Ramon's paper," said Peter. "Petra, Bean put it there before he left. I mean, not there. It was in Rotterdam. But he tucked it under Ramon's diaper as he was lying asleep in bed. He meant you to find it there. So it's been there every night of his life. It's only been peed on twice."
"From Bean."
The emotion she could deal with best was anger. "You knew he had written this and—"
Peter kept the both of them moving out of the hall and into the parlour. "He didn't give it to me or anyone else to deliver. Unless you count Ramon. He gave it to Ramon's butt."
"But to make me wait a year before—"
"Nobody thought it would be a year, Petra." He said it very gently, but the truth of it stung. He always had the power to sting her, and yet he never shrank from doing it.
"I'll leave you alone to read it," he said.
"You mean you didn't come here for my homecoming so you could find out what was in it?"
"Petra." Mrs. Delphiki stood in the doorway to the parlour. She looked mildly shocked. "Peter didn't come here for you. He's here all the time."
Petra looked at Peter and then back and Mrs. Delphiki. "Why?"
"They climb all over him. And he puts them down for their nap. They obey him a lot better than me."
The thought of the Hegemon of Earth coming over to play with her children seemed freakish to her. And then it seemed worse than freakish. It seemed completely unfair. She pushed him. "You came to my house and played with my children?"
He didn't show any reaction; he also stood his ground. "They're great kids."
"Let me find that out, will you? Let me find it out for myself!"
"Nobody's stopping you."
"You were stopping me! I was doing your work in Moscow, and you were here playing with my kids!"
"I offered to bring them to you."
"I didn't want them in Moscow, I was busy."
"I offered you leave to come home. Time after time."
"And let the work fall apart?"
"Petra," said Mrs. Delphiki. "Peter has been very good to your children. And to me. And you're behaving very badly."
"No, Mrs. Delphiki," said Peter. "This is only slightly badly. Petra's a trained soldier and the fact that I'm still standing—"
"Don't tease me out of this." Petra burst into tears. "I've lost a year of my babies' lives and it was my own fault, do you think I don't know that?"
There was a crying sound from one of the bedrooms.
Mrs. Delphiki rolled her eyes and went down the hall to rescue whoever it was that needed rescuing.
"You did what you had to do," said Peter. "Nobody's criticising you."
"But you could take time for my children."
"I don't have any of my own," said Peter.
"Is that my fault?"
"I'm just saying I had time. And ... I owed it to Bean."
"You owe more than that."
"But this is what I can do."
She didn't want Peter Wiggin to be the father figure in her children's lives.
"Petra, I'll stop if you want. They'll wonder why I don't come, and then they'll forget. If you don't want me here, I'll understand. This is yours and Bean's, and I don't want to intrude. And yes, I did want to be here when you opened that."
"What's in it?"
"I don't know."
"Didn't have one of your guys steam it open for you?"
Peter just looked a little irritated.
Mrs. Delphiki came into the room carrying Ramon, who was whimpering and saying, "My paper."
"I should have known," said Peter.
Petra held up the envelope. "Here it is," she said.
Ramon reached for it insistently. Petra handed it to him.
"You're spoiling him," said Peter.
"This is your mama, Ramon," said Mrs. Delphiki. "She nursed you when you were little."
"He was the only one that wasn't biting me by the time..." She couldn't think of a way to finish the sentence that wouldn't involve speaking of Bean or the other two children, the ones that had to go on solid food because they got teeth so incredibly young.
Mrs. Delphiki wasn't giving up. "Let your mama see the paper, Ramon."
Ramón clutched it tighter. Sharing was not yet on his agenda.
Peter reached out, snagged the envelope, and held it out to Petra. Ramon immediately began to wail.
"Give it back to him," said Petra. "I've waited this long."
Peter got his finger under the corner, tore it open, and extracted a single sheet of paper. "If you let them get their way just because they cry, you'll raise a bunch of whiny brats that nobody can stand." He handed her the paper, and gave the envelope back to Ramon, who immediately quieted down and started examining the transformed object.
Petra held the paper and was surprised to see that it was shaking. Which meant her hand was shaking. She didn't feel like she was trembling.
And then suddenly Peter was holding her by her upper arms and helping her to the sofa and her legs weren't working very well. "Come on, sit here, it's a shock, that's all."
"I've got your snack all ready," said Mrs. Delphiki to Ramon, who was trying to get his whole forearm inside the envelope.
Orson Scott Card - Ender 08 - Shadow of the Giant Page 32
