Ender's Shadow

by Orson Scott Card

  "Well, you could have told us what you were learning from us," said Itu. They were all still a bit resentful.

  "I didn't have to tell you. You learned it."

  "At least you could have told us it was OK not to win."

  "But you were supposed to try to win. I didn't tell you because it only works if you think it counts. Like when the Buggers come. It'll count then, for real. That's when you get really smart, when losing means that you and everybody you ever cared about, the whole human race, will die. Look, I didn't think we'd have long together. So I made the best use of the time, for you and for me. You guys are all ready to take command of armies."

  "What about you, Bean?" asked Ambul. He was smiling, but there was an edge to it. "You ready to command a fleet?"

  "I don't know. It depends on whether they want to win." Bean grinned.

  "Here's the thing, Bean," said Ambul. "Soldiers don't like to lose."

  "And that," said Bean, "is why losing is a much more powerful teacher than winning."

  They heard him. They thought about it. Some of them nodded.

  "If you live," Bean added. And grinned at them.

  They smiled back.

  "I gave you the best thing I could think of to give you during this week," said Bean. "And learned from you as much as I was smart enough to learn. Thank you." He stood and saluted them.

  They saluted back.

  He left.

  And went to Rat Army barracks.

  "Nikolai just got his orders," a toon leader told him.

  For a moment Bean wondered if Nikolai would be going to Tactical School with him. His first thought was, No way is he ready. His second thought was, I wish he could come. His third thought was, I'm not much of a friend, to think first how he doesn't deserve to be promoted.

  "What orders?" Bean asked.

  "He's got him an army. Hell, he wasn't even a toon leader here. Just got here last week."

  "Which army?"

  "Rabbit." The toon leader looked at Bean's uniform again. "Oh. I guess he's replacing you."

  Bean laughed and headed for the quarters he had just left.

  Nikolai was sitting inside with the door open, looking lost.

  "Can I come in?"

  Nikolai looked up and grinned. "Tell me you're here to take your army back."

  "I've got a hint for you. Try to win. They think that's important."

  "I couldn't believe you lost all five."

  "You know, for a school that doesn't list standings anymore, everybody sure keeps track."

  "I keep track of you."

  "Nikolai, I wish you were coming with me."

  "What's happening, Bean? Is this it? Are the Buggers here?"

  "I don't know."

  "Come on, you figure these things out."

  "If the Buggers were really coming, would they leave all you guys here in the station? Or send you back to Earth? Or evacuate you to some obscure asteroid? I don't know. Some things point to the end being really close. Other things seem like nothing important's going to happen anywhere around here."

  "So maybe they're about to launch this huge fleet against the Bugger world and you guys are supposed to grow up on the voyage."

  "Maybe," said Bean. "But the time to launch that fleet was right after the Second Invasion."

  "Well, what if they didn't find out where the Bugger home world was until now?"

  That stopped Bean cold. "Never crossed my mind," said Bean. "I mean, they must have been sending signals home. All we had to do was track that direction. Follow the light, you know. That's what it says in the manuals."

  "What if they don't communicate by light?"

  "Light may take a year to go a lightyear, but it's still faster than anything else."

  "Anything else that we know about," said Nikolai.

  Bean just looked at him.

  "Oh, I know, that's stupid. The laws of physics and all that. I just--you know, I keep thinking, that's all. I don't like to rule things out just because they're impossible."

  Bean laughed. "Merda, Nikolai, I should have let you talk more and me talk less back when we slept across from each other."

  "Bean, you know I'm not a genius."

  "All geniuses here, Nikolai."

  "I was scraping by."

  "So maybe you're not a Napoleon, Nikolai. Maybe you're just an Eisenhower. Don't expect me to cry for you."

  It was Nikolai's turn to laugh.

  "I'll miss you, Bean."

  "Thanks for coming with me to face Achilles, Nikolai."

  "Guy gave me nightmares."

  "Me too."

  "And I'm glad you brought the others along too. Itu, Ambul, Crazy Tom, I felt like we could've used six more, and Achilles was hanging from a wire. Guys like him, you can understand why they invented hanging."

  "Someday," said Bean, "you're going to need me the way I needed you. And I'll be there."

  "I'm sorry I didn't join your squad, Bean."

  "You were right," said Bean. "I asked you because you were my friend, and I thought I needed a friend, but I should have been a friend, too, and seen what you needed."

  "I'll never let you down again."

  Bean threw his arms around Nikolai. Nikolai hugged him back.

  Bean remembered when he left Earth. Hugging Sister Carlotta. Analyzing. This is what she needs. It costs me nothing. Therefore I'll give her the hug.

  I'm not that kid anymore.

  Maybe because I was able to come through for Poke after all. Too late to help her, but I still got her killer to admit it. I still got him to pay something, even if it can never be enough.

  "Go meet your army, Nikolai," said Bean. "I've got a spaceship to catch."

  He watched Nikolai go out the door and knew, with a sharp pang of regret, that he would never see his friend again.

  Dimak stood in Major Anderson's quarters.

  "Captain Dimak, I watched Colonel Graff indulge your constant complaints, your resistance to his orders, and I kept thinking, Dimak might be right, but I would never tolerate such lack of respect if I were in command. I'd throw him out on his ass and write 'insubordinate' in about forty places in his dossier. I thought I should tell you that before you make your complaint."

  Dimak blinked.

  "Go ahead, I'm waiting."

  "It isn't so much a complaint as a question."

  "Then ask your question."

  "I thought you were supposed to choose a team that was equally compatible with Ender and with Bean."

  "The word equally was never used, as far as I can recall. But even if it was, did it occur to you that it might be impossible? I could have chosen forty brilliant children who would all have been proud and eager to serve under Andrew Wiggin. How many would be equally proud and eager to serve under Bean?"

  Dimak had no answer for that.

  "The way I analyze it, the soldiers I chose to send on this destroyer are the students who are emotionally closest and most responsive to Ender Wiggin, while also being among the dozen or so best commanders in the school. These soldiers also have no particular animosity toward Bean. So if they find him placed over them, they'll probably do their best for him."

  "They'll never forgive him for not being Ender."

  "I guess that will be Bean's challenge. Who else should I have sent? Nikolai is Bean's friend, but he'd be out of his depth. Someday he'll be ready for Tactical School, and then Command, but not yet. And what other friends does Bean have?"

  "He's won a lot of respect."

  "And lost it again when he lost all five of his games."

  "I've explained to you why he--"

  "Humanity doesn't need explanations, Captain Dimak! It needs winners! Ender Wiggin had the fire to win. Bean is capable of losing five in a row as if they didn't even matter."

  "They didn't matter. He learned what he needed to learn from them."

  "Captain Dimak, I can see that I'm falling into the same trap that Colonel Graff fell into. You have crossed the line from teachi
ng into advocacy. I would dismiss you as Bean's teacher, were it not for the fact that the question is already moot. I'm sending the soldiers I decided on already. If Bean is really so brilliant, he'll figure out a way to work with them."

  "Yes sir," said Dimak.

  "If it's any consolation, do remember that Crazy Tom was one of the ones Bean brought along to hear Achilles' confession. Crazy Tom went. That suggests that the better they know Bean, the more seriously they take him."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Bean is no longer your responsibility, Captain Dimak. You did well with him. I salute you for it. Now . . . get back to work."

  Dimak saluted.

  Anderson saluted.

  Dimak left.

  On the destroyer Condor, the crew had no idea what to do with these children. They all knew about the Battle School, and both the captain and the pilot were Battle School graduates. But after perfunctory conversation--What army were you in? Oh, in my day Rat was the best, Dragon was a complete loser, how things change, how things stay the same--there was nothing more to say.

  Without the shared concerns of being army commanders, the children drifted into their natural friendship groups. Dink and Petra had been friends almost from their first beginnings in Battle School, and they were so senior to the others that no one tried to penetrate that closed circle. Alai and Shen had been in Ender Wiggin's original launch group, and Vlad and Dumper, who had commanded B and E toons and were probably the most worshipful of Ender, hung around with them. Crazy Tom, Fly Molo, and Hot Soup had already been a trio back in Dragon Army. On a personal level, Bean did not expect to be included in any of these groups, and he wasn't particularly excluded, either; Crazy Tom, at least, showed real respect for Bean, and often included him in conversation. If Bean belonged to any of these groups, it was Crazy Tom's.

  The only reason the division into cliques bothered him was that this group was clearly being assembled, not just randomly chosen. Trust needed to grow between them all, strongly if not equally. But they had been chosen for Ender--any idiot could see that--and it was not Bean's place to suggest that they play the onboard games together, learn together, do anything together. If Bean tried to assert any kind of leadership, it would only build more walls between him and the others than already existed.

  There was only one of the group that Bean didn't think belonged there. And he couldn't do anything about that. Apparently the adults did not hold Petra responsible for her near-betrayal of Ender in the corridor the evening before Ender's life-or-death struggle with Bonzo. But Bean was not so sure. Petra was one of the best of the commanders, smart, able to see the big picture. How could she possibly have been fooled by Bonzo? Of course she couldn't have been hoping for Ender's destruction. But she had been careless, at best, and at worst might have been playing some kind of game that Bean did not yet understand. So he remained suspicious of her. Which wasn't good, to have such mistrust, but there it was.

  Bean passed the four months of the voyage in the ship's library, mostly. Now that they were out of Battle School, he was reasonably sure that they weren't being spied on so intensely. The destroyer simply wasn't equipped for it. So he no longer had to choose his reading material with an eye to what the teachers would make of his selections.

  He read no military history or theory whatsoever. He had already read all the major writers and many of the minor ones and knew the important campaigns backward and forward, from both sides. Those were in his memory to be called upon whenever he needed them. What was missing from his memory was the big picture. How the world worked. Political, social, economic history. What happened in nations when they weren't at war. How they got into and out of wars. How victory and defeat affected them. How alliances were formed and broken.

  And, most important of all, but hardest to find: What was going on in the world today. The destroyer library had only the information that had been current when last it docked at Interstellar Launch--ISL--which is where the authorized list of documents was made available for download. Bean could make requests for more information, but that would require the library computer to make requisitions and use communications bandwidth that would have to be justified. It would be noticed, and then they'd wonder why this child was studying matters that could have no possible concern for him.

  From what he could find on board, however, it was still possible to piece together the basic situation on Earth, and to reach some conclusions. During the years before the First Invasion, various power blocs had jockeyed for position, using some combination of terrorism, "surgical" strikes, limited military operations, and economic sanctions, boycotts, and embargos to gain the upper hand or give firm warnings or simply express national or ideological rage. When the Buggers showed up, China had just emerged as the dominant world power, economically and militarily, having finally reunited itself as a democracy. The North Americans and Europeans played at being China's "big brothers," but the economic balance had finally shifted.

  What Bean saw as the driving force of history, however, was the resurgent Russian Empire. Where the Chinese simply took it for granted that they were and should be the center of the universe, the Russians, led by a series of ambitious demagogues and authoritarian generals, felt that history had cheated them out of their rightful place, century after century, and it was time for that to end. So it was Russia that forced the creation of the New Warsaw Pact, bringing its effective borders back to the peak of Soviet power--and beyond, for this time Greece was its ally, and an intimidated Turkey was neutralized. Europe was on the verge of being neutralized, the Russian dream of hegemony from the Pacific to the Atlantic at last within reach.

  And then the Formics came and cut a swath of destruction through China that left a hundred million dead. Suddenly land-based armies seemed trivial, and questions of international competition were put on hold.

  But that was only superficial. In fact, the Russians used their domination of the office of the Polemarch to build up a network of officers in key places throughout the fleet. Everything was in place for a vast power play the moment the Buggers were defeated--or before, if they thought it was to their advantage. Oddly, the Russians were rather open about their intentions--they always had been. They had no talent for subtlety, but they made up for it with amazing stubbornness. Negotiations for anything could take decades. And meanwhile, their penetration of the fleet was nearly total. Infantry forces loyal to the Strategos would be isolated, unable to get to the places where they were needed because there would be no ships to carry them.

  When the war with the Buggers ended, the Russians clearly planned that within hours they would rule the fleet and therefore the world. It was their destiny. The North Americans were as complacent as ever, sure that destiny would work everything out in their favor. Only a few demagogues saw the danger. The Chinese and the Muslim world were alert to the danger, and even they were unable to make any kind of stand for fear of breaking up the alliance that made resistance to the Buggers possible.

  The more he studied, the more Bean wished that he did not have to go to Tactical School. This war would belong to Ender and his friends. And while Bean loved Ender as much as any of them, and would gladly serve with them against the Buggers, the fact was that they didn't need him. It was the next war, the struggle for world domination, that fascinated him. The Russians could be stopped, if the right preparations were made.

  But then he had to ask himself: Should they be stopped? A quick, bloody, but effective coup which would bring the world under a single government--it would mean the end of war among humans, wouldn't it? And in such a climate of peace, wouldn't all nations be better off?

  So, even as Bean developed his plan for stopping the Russians, he tried to evaluate what a worldwide Russian Empire would be like.

  And what he concluded was that it would not last. For along with their national vigor, the Russians had also nurtured their astonishing talent for misgovernment, that sense of personal entitlement that made corruption a way of life.
The institutional tradition of competence that would be essential for a successful world government was nonexistent. It was in China that those institutions and values were most vigorous. But even China would be a poor substitute for a genuine world government that transcended any national interest. The wrong world government would eventually collapse under its own weight.

  Bean longed to be able to talk these things over with someone--with Nikolai, or even with one of the teachers. It slowed him down to have his own thoughts move around in circles--without outside stimulation it was hard to break free of his own assumptions. One mind can think only of its own questions; it rarely surprises itself. But he made progress, slowly, during that voyage, and then during the months of Tactical School.

  Tactical was a blur of short voyages and detailed tours of various ships. Bean was disgusted that they seemed to concentrate entirely on older designs, which seemed pointless to him--why train your commanders in ships they won't actually be using in battle? But the teachers treated his objection with contempt, pointing out that ships were ships, in the long run, and the newest vessels had to be put into service patrolling the perimeters of the solar system. There were none to spare for training children.

  They were taught very little about the art of pilotry, for they were not being trained to fly the ships, only to command them in battle. They had to get a sense of how the weapons worked, how the ships moved, what could be expected of them, what their limitations were. Much of it was rote learning . . . but that was precisely the kind of learning Bean could do almost in his sleep, being able to recall anything that he had read or heard with any degree of attention.

  So throughout Tactical School, while he performed as well as anyone, his real concentration was still on the problems of the current political situation on Earth. For Tactical School was at ISL, and so the library there was constantly being updated, and not just with the material authorized for inclusion in finite ships' libraries. For the first time, Bean began to read the writings of current political thinkers on Earth. He read what was coming out of Russia, and once again was astonished at how nakedly they pursued their ambitions. The Chinese writers saw the danger, but being Chinese, made no effort to rally support in other nations for any kind of resistance. To the Chinese, once something was known in China, it was known everywhere that mattered. And the Euro-American nations seemed dominated by a studied ignorance that to Bean appeared to be a death wish. Yet there were some who were awake, struggling to create coalitions.