The teachergate opened and Lieutenant Anderson came in. Anderson stopped himself with a slight movement of his hands when he reached the center of the battleroom. Ender, he called, breaking protocol. One of the frozen Dragon soldiers near the south wall tried to call through jaws that were clamped shut by the suit. Anderson drifted to him and unfroze him.
Ender was smiling.
I beat you again, sir, Ender said.
Anderson didnt smile. Thats nonsense, Ender, Anderson said softly. Your battle was with William Bee of Griffin Army.
Ender raised an eyebrow.
After that maneuver, Anderson said, the rules are being revised to require that all of the enemys soldiers must be immobilized before the gate can be reversed.
Thats all right, Ender said. It could only work once, anyway. Anderson nodded, and was turning away when Ender added, Is there going to be a new rule that armies be given equal positions to fight from?
Anderson turned back around. If youre in one of the positions, Ender, you can hardly call them equal, whatever they are.
William Bee counted carefully and wondered how in the world he had lost when not one of his soldiers had been flashed and only four of Enders soldiers were even mobile.
And that night as Ender came into the commanders mess hall, he was greeted with applause and cheers, and his table was crowded with respectful commanders, many of them two or three years older than he was. He was friendly, but while he ate he wondered what the teachers would do to him in his next battle. He didnt need to worry. His next two battles were easy victories, and after that he never saw the battleroom again.
IT WAS 2100 and Ender was a little irritated to hear someone knock at his door. His army was exhausted, and he had ordered them all to be in bed after 2030. The last two days had been regular battles, and Ender was expecting the worst in the morning.
It was Bean. He came in sheepishly, and saluted.
Ender returned his salute and snapped, Bean, I wanted everybody in bed.
Bean nodded but didnt leave. Ender considered ordering him out. But as he looked at Bean it occurred to him for the first time in weeks just how young Bean was. He had turned eight a week before, and he was still small andno, Ender thought, he wasnt young. Nobody was young. Bean had been in battle, and with a whole army depending on him he had come through and won. And even though he was small, Ender could never think of him as young again.
Ender shrugged and Bean came over and sat on the edge of the bed. The younger boy looked at his hands for a while, and finally Ender grew impatient and asked, Well, what is it?
Im transferred. Got orders just a few minutes ago.
Ender closed his eyes for a moment. I knew theyd pull something new. Now theyre takingwhere are you going?
Rabbit Army.
How can they put you under an idiot like Carn Carby!
Carn was graduated. Support squads.
Ender looked up. Well, whos commanding Rabbit then?
Bean held his hands out helplessly.
Me, he said.
Ender nodded, and then smiled. Of course. After all, youre only four years younger than the regular age.
It isnt funny, Bean said. I dont know whats going on here. First all the changes in the game. And now this. I wasnt the only one transferred, either, Ender. Ren, Peder, Brian, Wins, Younger. All commanders now.
Ender stood up angrily and strode to the wall. Every damn toon leader Ive got! he said, and whirled to face Bean. If theyre going to break up my army, Bean, why did they bother making me a commander at all?
Bean shook his head. I dont know. Youre the best, Ender. Nobodys ever done what youve done. Nineteen battles in fifteen days, sir, and you won every one of them, no matter what they did to you.
And now you and the others are commanders. You know every trick Ive got, I trained you, and who am I supposed to replace you with? Are they going to stick me with six greenohs?
It stinks, Ender, but you know that if they gave you five crippled midgets and armed you with a roll of toilet paper youd win.
They both laughed, and then they noticed that the door was open.
Lieutenant Anderson stepped in. He was followed by Captain Graff.
Ender Wiggins, Graff said, holding his hands across his stomach.
Yes, sir, Ender answered.
Orders.
Anderson extended a slip of paper. Ender read it quickly, then crumpled it, still looking at the air where the paper had been. After a few moments he asked, Can I tell my army?
Theyll find out, Graff answered. Its better not to talk to them after orders. It makes it easier.
For you or for me? Ender asked. He didnt wait for an answer. He turned quickly to Bean, took his hand for a moment, and then headed for the door.
Wait, Bean said. Where are you going? Tactical or Support School?
Command School, Ender answered, and then he was gone and Anderson closed the door.
Command School, Bean thought. Nobody went to Command School until they had gone through three years of Tactical. But then, nobody went to Tactical until they had been through at least five years of Battle School. Ender had only had three.
The system was breaking up. No doubt about it, Bean thought. Either somebody at the top was going crazy, or something was going wrong with the warthe real war, the one they were training to fight in. Why else would they break down the training system, advance somebodyeven somebody as good as Enderstraight to Command School? Why else would they ever have an eight-year-old greenoh like Bean command an army?
Bean wondered about it for a long time, and then he finally lay down on Enders bed and realized that hed never see Ender again, probably. For some reason that made him want to cry. But he didnt cry, of course. Training in the preschools had taught him how to force down emotions like that. He remembered how his first teacher, when he was three, would have been upset to see his lip quivering and his eyes full of tears.
Bean went through the relaxing routine until he didnt feel like crying anymore. Then he drifted off to sleep. His hand was near his mouth. It lay on his pillow hesitantly, as if Bean couldnt decide whether to bite his nails or suck on his fingertips. His forehead was creased and furrowed. His breathing was quick and light. He was a soldier, and if anyone had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he wouldnt have known what they meant.
* * *
THERES A WAR on, they said, and that was excuse enough for all the hurry in the world. They said it like a password and flashed a little card at every ticket counter and customs check and guard station. It got them to the head of every line.
Ender Wiggins was rushed from place to place so quickly he had no time to examine anything. But he did see trees for the first time. He saw men who were not in uniform. He saw women. He saw strange animals that didnt speak, but that followed docilely behind women and small children. He saw suitcases and conveyor belts and signs that said words he had never heard of. He would have asked someone what the words meant, except that purpose and authority surrounded him in the persons of four very high officers who never spoke to each other and never spoke to him.
Ender Wiggins was a stranger to the world he was being trained to save. He did not remember ever leaving Battle School before. His earliest memories were of childish war games under the direction of a teacher, of meals with other boys in the grey and green uniforms of the armed forces of his world. He did not know that the grey represented the sky and the green represented the great forests of his planet. All he knew of the world was from vague references to outside.
And before he could make any sense of the strange world he was seeing for the first time, they enclosed him again within the shell of the military, where nobody had to say Theres a war on anymore because no one within the shell of the military forgot it for a single instant of a single day.
They put him in a spaceship and launched him to a large artificial satellite that circled the world.
This space station was called Command School. It held the ansible.
On his first day Ender Wiggins was taught about the ansible and what it meant to warfare. It meant that even though the starships of todays battles were launched a hundred years ago, the commanders of the starships were men of today, who used the ansible to send messages to the computers and the few men on each ship. The ansible sent words as they were spoken, orders as they were made. Battleplans as they were fought. Light was a pedestrian.
For two months Ender Wiggins didnt meet a single person. They came to him namelessly, taught him what they knew, and left him to other teachers. He had no time to miss his friends at Battle School. He only had time to learn how to operate the simulator, which flashed battle patterns around him as if he were in a starship at the center of the battle. How to command mock ships in mock battle by manipulating the keys on the simulator and speaking words into the ansible. How to recognize instantly every enemy ship and the weapons it carried by the pattern that the simulator showed. How to transfer all that he learned in the nullo battles at Battle School to the starship battles at Command School.
He had thought the game was taken seriously before. Here they hurried him through every step, were angry and worried beyond reason every time he forgot something or made a mistake. But he worked as he had always worked, and learned as he had always learned. After a while he didnt make any more mistakes. He used the simulator as if it were a part of himself. Then they stopped being worried and gave him a teacher.
MAEZR RACKHAM WAS sitting cross-legged on the floor when Ender awoke. He said nothing as Ender got up and showered and dressed, and Ender did not bother to ask him anything. He had long since learned that when something unusual was going on, he would often find out more information faster by waiting than by asking.
Maezr still hadnt spoken when Ender was ready and went to the door to leave the room. The door didnt open. Ender turned to face the man sitting on the floor. Maezr was at least forty, which made him the oldest man Ender had ever seen close up. He had a days growth of black and white whiskers that grizzled his face only slightly less than his close-cut hair. His face sagged a little and his eyes were surrounded by creases and lines. He looked at Ender without interest.
Ender turned back to the door and tried again to open it.
All right, he said, giving up. Whys the door locked?
Maezr continued to look at him blankly.
Ender became impatient. Im going to be late. If Im not supposed to be there until later, than tell me so I can go back to bed. No answer. Is it a guessing game? Ender asked. No answer. Ender decided that maybe the man was trying to make him angry, so he went through a relaxing exercise as he leaned on the door, and soon he was calm again. Maezr didnt take his eyes off Ender.
For the next two hours the silence endured, Maezr watching Ender constantly, Ender trying to pretend he didnt notice the old man. The boy became more and more nervous, and finally ended up walking from one end of the room to the other in a sporadic pattern.
He walked by Maezr as he had several times before, and Maezrs hand shot out and pushed Enders left leg into his right in the middle of a step. Ender fell flat on the floor.
He leaped to his feet immediately, furious. He found Maezr sitting calmly, cross-legged, as if he had never moved. Ender stood poised to fight. But the others immobility made it impossible for Ender to attack, and he found himself wondering if he had only imagined the old mans hand tripping him up.
The pacing continued for another hour, with Ender Wiggins trying the door every now and then. At last he gave up and took off his uniform and walked to his bed.
As he leaned over to pull the covers back, he felt a hand jab roughly between his thighs and another hand grab his hair. In a moment he had been turned upside down. His face and shoulders were being pressed into the floor by the old mans knee, while his back was excruciatingly bent and his legs were pinioned by Maezrs arm. Ender was helpless to use his arms, and he couldnt bend his back to gain slack so he could use his legs. In less than two seconds the old man had completely defeated Ender Wiggins.
All right, Ender gasped. You win.
Maezrs knee thrust painfully downward.
Since when, Maezr asked in a soft, rasping voice, do you have to tell the enemy when he has won?
Ender remained silent.
I surprised you once, Ender Wiggins. Why didnt you destroy me immediately afterward? Just because I looked peaceful? You turned your back on me. Stupid. You have learned nothing. You have never had a teacher.
Ender was angry now. Ive had too many damned teachers, how was I supposed to know youd turn out to be a Ender hunted for a word. Maezr supplied one.
An enemy, Ender Wiggins, Maezr whispered. I am your enemy, the first one youve ever had who was smarter than you. There is no teacher but the enemy, Ender Wiggins. No one but the enemy will ever tell you what the enemy is going to do. No one but the enemy will ever teach you how to destroy and conquer. I am your enemy, from now on. From now on I am your teacher.
Then Maezr let Enders legs fall to the floor. Because the old man still held Enders head to the floor, the boy couldnt use his arms to compensate, and his legs hit the plastic surface with a loud crack and a sickening pain that made Ender wince. Then Maezr stood and let Ender rise.
Slowly the boy pulled his legs under him, with a faint groan of pain, and he knelt on all fours for a moment, recovering. Then his right arm flashed out. Maezr quickly danced back and Enders hand closed on air as his teachers foot shot forward to catch Ender on the chin.
Enders chin wasnt there. He was lying flat on his back, spinning on the floor, and during the moment that Maezr was off balance from his kick Enders feet smashed into Maezrs other leg. The old man fell on the ground in a heap.
What seemed to be a heap was really a hornets nest. Ender couldnt find an arm or a leg that held still long enough to be grabbed, and in the meantime blows were landing on his back and arms. Ender was smallerhe couldnt reach past the old mans flailing limbs.