Speaker for the dead ew-2

by Orson Scott Card

  “I have to meet with the wives,” said Ender to the piggies, “because we have to make a treaty. An agreement. A set of rules between us. Do you understand me? Humans can't live by your laws, and you can't live by ours, but if we're to live in peace, with no fence between us, and if I'm to let the hive queen live with you and help you and teach you, then you have to make us some promises, and keep them. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” said Human. “But you don't know what you're asking for, to deal with the wives. They're not smart the way that the brothers are smart.”

  “They make all the decisions, don't they?”

  “Of course,” said Human. “They're the keepers of the mothers, aren't they? But I warn you, it's dangerous to speak to the wives. Especially for you, because they honor you so much.”

  “If the fence comes down, I have to speak to the wives. If I can't speak to them, then the fence stays up, and Miro dies, and we'll have to obey the Congressional Order that all the humans of Lusitania must leave here.” Ender did not tell them that the humans might well be killed. He always told the truth, but he didn't always tell it all.

  “I'll take you to the wives,” said Human.

  Leaf-eater walked up to him and ran his hand derisively across Human's belly. “They named you right,” he said. “You are a human, not one of us.” Leaf-eater started to run away, but Arrow and Cups held him.

  “I'll take you,” said Human. “Now, stop the fence and save Miro's life.”

  Ender turned to the Bishop.

  “It's not my decision,” said the Bishop. “It's Bosquinha's.”

  “My oath is to the Starways Congress,” said Bosquinha, “but I'll perjure myself this minute to save the lives of my people. I say the fence comes down and we try to make the most of our rebellion.”

  “If we can preach to the piggies,” said the Bishop.

  “I'll ask them when I meet with the wives,” said Ender. “I can't promise more than that.”

  “Bishop!” cried Novinha. “Pipo and Libo already died beyond that fence!”

  “Bring it down,” said the Bishop. “I don't want to see this colony end with God's work here still untouched.” He smiled grimly. “But Os Venerados had better be made saints pretty soon. We'll need their help.”

  “Jane,” murmured Ender.

  “That's why I love you,” said Jane. “You can do anything, as long as I set up the circumstances just right.”

  “Cut off the ansible and turn off the fence, please,” said Ender.

  “Done,” she said.

  Ender ran for the fence, climbed over it. With the piggies' help he lifted Miro to the top and let his rigid body drop into the waiting arms of the Bishop, the Mayor, Dom Crist o, and Novinha. Navio was jogging down the slope right behind Dona Crist . Whatever they could do to help Miro would be done.

  Ouanda was climbing the fence.

  “Go back,” said Ender. “We've already got him over.”

  “If you're going to see the wives,” said Ouanda, “I'm going with you. You need my help.”

  Ender had no answer to that. She dropped down and came to Ender.

  Navio was kneeling by Miro's body. “He climbed the fence?” he said. “There's nothing in the books for that. It isn't possible. Nobody can bear enough pain to get his head right through the field.”

  “Will he live?” demanded Novinha.

  “How should I know?” said Navio, impatiently stripping away Miro's clothing and attaching sensors to him. “Nobody covered this in medical school.”

  Ender noticed that the fence was shaking again. Ela was climbing over. “I don't need your help,” Ender said.

  “It's about time somebody who knows something about xenobiology got to see what's going on,” she retorted.

  “Stay and look after your brother,” said Ouanda.

  Ela looked at her defiantly. “He's your brother, too,” she said. “Now let's both see to it that if he dies, he didn't die for nothing.”

  The three of them followed Human and the other piggies into the forest.

  Bosquinha and the Bishop watched them go. “When I woke up this morning,” Bosquinha said, “I didn't expect to be a rebel before I went to bed.”

  “Nor did I ever imagine that the Speaker would be our ambassador to the piggies,” said the Bishop.

  «The question is,» said Dom Crist o, «will we ever be forgiven for it.»

  “Do you think we're making a mistake?” snapped the Bishop.

  «Not at all,» said Dom Crist o. «I think we've taken a step toward something truly magnificent. But humankind almost never forgives true greatness.»

  “Fortunately,” said the Bishop, “humankind isn't the judge that matters. And now I intend to pray for this boy, since medical science has obviously reached the boundary of its competence.”

  Chapter 17

  The Wives

  Find out how word got out that the Evacuation Fleet is armed with the Little Doctor. That is HIGHEST PRIORITY. Then find out who this so-called Demosthenes is. Calling the Evacuation Fleet a Second Xenocide is definitely a violation of the treason laws under the Code and if CSA can't find this voice and put a stop to it, I can't think of any good reason for CSA to continue to exist.

  In the meantime, continue your evaluation of the files retrieved from Lusitania, It's completely irrational for them to rebel just because we want to arrest two errant xenologers. There was nothing in the Mayor's background to suggest this was possible. If there's a chance that there was a revolution, I want to find out who the leaders of that revolution might be.

  Pyotr, I know you're doing your best. So am I. So is everybody. So are the people on Lusitania, probably. But my responsibility is the safety and integrity of the Hundred Worlds. I have a hundred times the responsibility of Peter the Hegemon and about a tenth of his power. Not to mention the fact that I'm far from being the genius he was. No doubt you and everybody else would be happier if Peter were still available. I'm just afraid that by the time this thing is over, we may need another Ender. Nobody wants Xenocide, but if it happens, I want to make sure it's the other guys that disappear. When it comes to war, human is human and alien is alien. All that raman business goes up in smoke when we're talking about survival.

  Does that satisfy you? Do you believe me when I tell you that I'm not being soft? Now see to it you're not soft, either. See to it you get me results, fast. Now. Love and kisses, Bawa.

  – Gobawa Ekimbo, Chmn Xen Ovst Comm, to Pyotr Martinov, Dir Cgrs Sec Agc, Memo 44:1970:5:4:2; cit. Demosthenes, The Second Xenocide, 87:1972:1:1:1

  Human led the way through the forest. The piggies scrambled easily up and down slopes, across a stream, through thick underbrush. Human, though, seemed to make a dance of it, running partway up certain trees, touching and speaking to others. The other piggies were much more restrained, only occasionally joining him in his antics. Only Mandachuva hung back with the human beings.

  “Why does he do that?” asked Ender quietly.

  Mandachuva was baffled for a moment. Ouanda explained what Ender meant. “Why does Human climb the trees, or touch them and sing?”

  “He sings to them about the third life,” said Mandachuva. “It's very bad manners for him to do that. He has always been selfish and stupid.”

  Ouanda looked at Ender in surprise, then back at Mandachuva. “I thought everybody liked Human,” she said.

  “Great honor,” said Mandachuva. “A wise one.” Then Mandachuva poked Ender in the hip. “But he's a fool in one thing. He thinks you'll do him honor. He thinks you'll take him to the third life.”

  “What's the third life?” asked Ender.

  “The gift that Pipo kept for himself,” said Mandachuva. Then he walked faster, caught up with the other piggies.

  “Did any of that make sense to you?” Ender asked Ouanda.

  “I still can't get used to the way you ask them direct questions.”

  “I don't get much in the way of answers, do I?”

  �
��Mandachuva is angry, that's something. And he's angry at Pipo, that's another. The third life– a gift that Pipo kept for himself. It will all make sense.”

  “When?”

  “In twenty years. Or twenty minutes. That's what makes xenology so fun.”

  Ela was touching the trees, too, and looking from time to time at the bushes. “All the same species of tree. And the bushes, too, just alike. And that vine, climbing most of the trees. Have you ever seen any other plant species here in the forest, Ouanda?”

  “Not that I noticed. I never looked for that. The vine is called merdona. The macios seem to feed on it, and the piggies eat the macios. The merdona root, we taught the piggies how to make it edible. Before the amaranth. So they're eating lower on the food chain now.”

  “Look,” said Ender.

  The piggies were all stopped, their backs to the humans, facing a clearing. In a moment Ender, Ouanda, and Ela caught up with them and looked over them into the moonlit glen. It was quite a large space, and the ground was beaten bare. Several log houses lined the edges of the clearing, but the middle was empty except for a single huge tree, the largest they had seen in the forest.

  The trunk seemed to be moving. “It's crawling with macios,” said Ouanda.

  “Not macios,” said Human.

  “Three hundred twenty,” said Mandachuva.

  “Little brothers,” said Arrow.

  “And little mothers,” added Cups.

  “And if you harm them,” said Leaf-eater, “we will kill you unplanted and knock down your tree.”

  “We won't harm them,” said Ender.

  The piggies did not take a single step into the clearing. They waited and waited, until finally there was some movement near the largest of the log houses, almost directly opposite them. It was a piggy. But larger than any of the piggies they had seen before.

  “A wife,” murmured Mandachuva.

  “What's her name?” asked Ender.

  The piggies turned to him and stared. “They don't tell us their names,” said Leaf-eater.

  “If they even have names,” added Cups.

  Human reached up and drew Ender down to where he could whisper in his ear. “We always call her Shouter. But never where a wife can hear.”

  The female looked at them, and then sang– there was no other way to describe the mellifluous flow of her voice– a sentence or two in Wives' Language.

  “It's for you to go,” said Mandachuva. “Speaker. You.”

  “Alone?” asked Ender. “I'd rather bring Ouanda and Ela with me.”

  Mandachuva spoke loudly in Wives' Language; it sounded like gargling compared to the beauty of the female's voice. Shouter answered, again singing only briefly.

  “She says of course they can come,” Mandachuva reported. “She says they're females, aren't they? She's not very sophisticated about the differences between humans and little ones.”

  “One more thing,” said Ender. “At least one of you, as an interpreter. Or can she speak Stark?”

  Mandachuva relayed Ender's request. The answer was brief, and Mandachuva didn't like it. He refused to translate it. It was Human who explained. “She says that you may have any interpreter you like, as long as it's me.”

  “Then we'd like to have you as our interpreter,” said Ender.

  “You must enter the birthing place first,” said Human. “You are the invited one.”

  Ender stepped out into the open and strode into the moonlight. He could hear Ela and Ouanda following him, and Human padding along behind. Now he could see that Shouter was not the only female here. Several faces were in every doorway. “How many are there?” asked Ender.

  Human didn't answer. Ender turned to face him. “How many wives are there?” Ender repeated.

  Human still did not answer. Not until Shouter sang again, more loudly and commandingly. Only then did Human translate. “In the birthing place, Speaker, it is only to speak when a wife asks you a question.”

  Ender nodded gravely, then walked back to where the other males waited at the edge of the clearing. Ouanda and Ela followed him. He could hear Shouter singing behind him, and now he understood why the males referred to her by that name– her voice was enough to make the trees shake. Human caught up with Ender and tugged at his clothing. “She says why are you going, you haven't been given permission to go. Speaker, this is a very bad thing, she's very angry–”

  “Tell her that I did not come to give instructions or to receive instructions. If she won't treat me as an equal, I won't treat her as an equal.”

  “I can't tell her that,” said Human.

  “Then she'll always wonder why I left, won't she?”

  “This is a great honor, to be called among the wives!”

  “It is also a great honor for the Speaker of the Dead to come and visit them.”

  Human stood still for a few moments, rigid with anxiety. Then he turned and spoke to Shouter.

  She in turn fell silent. There was not a sound in the glen.

  “I hope you know what you're doing, Speaker,” murmured Ouanda.

  “I'm improvising,” said Ender. “How do you think it's going?”

  She didn't answer.

  Shouter went back into the large log house. Ender turned around and again headed for the forest. Almost immediately Shouter's voice rang out again.

  “She commands you to wait,” said Human.

  Ender did not break stride, and in a moment he was on the other side of the piggy males. “If she asks me to return, I may come back. But you must tell her, Human, that I did not come to command or to be commanded.”

  “I can't say that,” said Human.

  “Why not?” asked Ender.

  “Let me,” said Ouanda. “Human, do you mean you can't say it because you're afraid, or because there are no words for it?”

  “No words. For a brother to speak to a wife about him commanding her, and her petitioning him, those words can't be said in that direction.”

  Ouanda smiled at Ender. “Not mores, here, Speaker. Language.”

  “Don't they understand your language, Human?” asked Ender.

  “Males' Language can't be spoken in the birthing place,” said Human.

  “Tell her that my words can't be spoken in Wives' Language, but only in Males' Language, and tell her that I– petition– that you be allowed to translate my words in Males' Language.”

  “You are a lot of trouble, Speaker,” said Human. He turned and spoke again to Shouter.

  Suddenly the glen was full of the sound of Wives' Language, a dozen different songs, like a choir warming up.

  “Speaker,” said Ouanda, “you have now violated just about every rule of good anthropological practice.”

  “Which ones did I miss?”

  “The only one I can think of is that you haven't killed any of them yet.”

  “What you're forgetting,” said Ender, “is that I'm not here as a scientist to study them. I'm here as an ambassador to make a treaty with them.”

  Just as quickly as they started, the wives fell silent. Shouter emerged from her house and walked to the middle of the clearing to stand very near to the huge central tree. She sang.

  Human answered her– in Brothers' Language. Ouanda murmured a rough translation. “He's telling her what you said, about coming as equals.”

  Again the wives erupted in cacophonous song.

  “How do you think they'll respond?” asked Ela.

  “How could I know?” asked Ouanda. “I've been here exactly as often as you.”

  “I think they'll understand it and let me in on those terms,” said Ender.

  “Why do you think that?” asked Ouanda.

  “Because I came out of the sky. Because I'm the Speaker for the Dead.”

  “Don't start thinking you're a great white god,” said Ouanda. “It usually doesn't work out very well.”

  “I'm not Pizarro,” said Ender.

  In his ear Jane murmured, “I'm beginning to make some sense out
of the Wives' Language. The basics of the Males' Language were in Pipo's and Libo's notes. Human's translations are very helpful. The Wives' Language is closely related to Males' Language, except that it seems more archaic– closer to the roots, more old forms– and all the female-to-male forms are in the imperative voice, while the male-to-female forms are in the supplicative. The female word for the brothers seems to be related to the male word for macio, the tree worm. If this is the language of love, it's a wonder they manage to reproduce at all.”

  Ender smiled. It was good to hear Jane speak to him again, good to know he would have her help.

  He realized that Mandachuva had been asking Ouanda a question, for now he heard her whispered answer. “He's listening to the jewel in his ear.”

  “Is it the hive queen?” asked Mandachuva.

  “No,” said Ouanda. “It's a…” She struggled to find a word. “It's a computer. A machine with a voice.”

  “Can I have one?” asked Mandachuva.

  “Someday,” Ender answered, saving Ouanda the trouble of trying to figure out how to answer.

  The wives fell silent, and again Shouter's voice was alone. Immediately the males became agitated, bouncing up and down on their toes.

  Jane whispered in his ear. “She's speaking Males' Language herself,” she said.

  “Very great day,” said Arrow quietly. “The wives speaking Males' Language in this place. Never happened before.”

  “She invites you to come in,” said Human. “As a sister to a brother she invites you.”

  Immediately Ender walked into the clearing and approached her directly. Even though she was taller than the males, she was still a good fifty centimeters shorter than Ender, so he fell to his knees at once. They were eye to eye.

  “I am grateful for your kindness to me,” said Ender.

  “I could say that in Wives' Language,” Human said.

  “Say it in your language anyway,” said Ender.

  He did. Shouter reached out a hand and touched the smooth skin of his forehead, the rough stubble of his jaw; she pressed a finger against his lip, and he closed his eyes but did not flinch as she laid a delicate finger on his eyelid.