I need to change my plan. There's no possible way that I'll be able to succeed now. The entire Hegemony will be after my blood if I don't fix this. Peter ran a nervous hand through his dark brown hair. What to do.. what to do.
He had found some lousy excuse to get out of that disaster of a meeting he'd arranged. Clearly, that wasn't his best move, though fortunately, he used Rackham's absence as a way to dismiss the three others. Now he just needed a way to remain in control of the I.F. Forces without exposing his true intentions. Sounds simple. Well, easier said than done. He had everyone around him on the base to worry about: let alone the Warsaw Pact leaders, the freaking MinCol who wouldn't stop attempting to break his security and see what he was doing, and finally, the Hegemon himself. The man, who was in his early fifties, had placed his trust in Peter, and Peter was not about to screw that relationship up.
He also had his Locke followers who granted him much more control than he would've had, if he had indeed been an average nineteen year old. They allowed him access into the Hegemon's council, the top priority debates on the nets, and aided in helping him win the hearts, and the political support, of the most prestigious government officials in both the I.F. and the American government. In itself, all of those things were already a large accomplishment. Sure, Peter did manage to become a major name on the nets, he had been given control of a big piece of the government, and he had single handedly brainwashed the current Hegemon so he could be his successor. All of that wasn't enough for him, however. Something was missing. Peter didn't just want to conquer chess pieces on the board, and simply wait until he was handed their power. He wanted to have control now. He wanted to be able to anticipate the moves of both players, and know what the exact outcome would be. More specifically, he dreamed of becoming God. Religion was still illegal of course, but in Peter's mind, there was no better comparison. He definitely, unmistakably, wanted to be God. And he would be willing to do absolutely anything in order for that to happen.
He knew his little mishap with Mazer could ruin any chance he had at ruling the world, though. And he didn't have the heart to confess and give up his dreams. Peter's only rational explanation for the murder was that he'd been careless, and hadn't thought about the outcome before he acted. Deep down, however, he neglected to see the truth himself.
He had been living in isolation for years thanks to mother and father moving them to Greensboro, North Carolina of all places. In all honesty, Peter enjoyed the fast pace of the city they used to call home. There, that was when he'd been cruel to both of his siblings. In Greensboro, he learned to stay calm and to hold in his angry tendencies. He was even nice to the unintelligent rodents at school. It was, after all, what helped make the charade so convincing.
In the dead of night, however, he would sneak off into the forest and skin squirrels for enjoyment. He would even run off as soon as school ended, before Valentine, or anyone else could see where he was going, and he would torture, kill, and then finally gut small woodland creatures. Looking back on that, Peter realized that that must've been an outlet for his anger, but now, what had been his outlet?
Mazer Rackham.
To reiterate what was established earlier; Peter would never admit that to himself. He was too... not sensitive, but self confident. He believed that he was amazing, and that he alone would do incredible things. Of course, he never wanted to be malicious, but those were the genes that he'd been given. So, that was what he had to work with in his quest for power.
"Sir?"
Startled, Peter quickly turned around to face his company. Of course it was Bernard. He caught up to Peter in the corridor as he continued to walk.
"What do you want?"
"I thought you should know that there's some people waiting to speak with you."
"Who?"
"They say you called them here on business, so I had them wait in the cafeteria until I could find you."
Peter looked at Bernard quizzically. He hadn't called anyone to see him, and it didn't even appear that Bernard followed the proper screening protocol with them. For all he knew, his incompetent second could've just let a bunch of serial killers into the I.F. base. For a moment, Peter considered blowing up at the child, but soon decided against it. It wouldn't exactly be subtle to yell at him. That would only be confirmation to the former Battle Schooler of the fact that Peter had no idea who was waiting for him, and he didn't want to come off as anything but concise.
"Thank you." Peter said. The praise was reluctant but he had already made up his mind.
He would see who these people were and find out what they wanted, and then he'd decide whether or not they could be trusted. If they couldn't, he would just as easily have them detained by calling the base security. It would only require a simple call.
"You're dismissed." Peter said.
As soon as Bernard turned around and began walking in the opposite direction in which he came, Peter took off toward the cafeteria. As he walked, he only kept one thought in mind; I have to make sure that whoever these people are, they aren't going to mess up my plans.
* * * * * * * *
Bean sat in silence, as he watched the sky go from a sunset orange to the pitch black that signalled the day was coming to an end. The once illuminated faces of his companions were now only mere shadows, and he found it hard to concentrate on anything other than his own thoughts.
It was too easy to drift into his mind while waiting for Ender to come back. Ender's older sister Valentine, and Petra didn't appear to want to converse, so it truly felt like he was alone. Not that he minded the feeling. Bean found it comforting that he had time to go over everything that'd happened since he'd been rescued from Germany. And he enjoyed the quiet peacefulness of the night. He hadn't been able to take a real break since he and Petra had gotten stuck out there for a little over a year. There was too much to worry about, and the constant gun shots were a reminder that they were never really safe. Worst of all, if any one of the Warsaw Pact soldiers had gotten wind of who they were, they would've been captured and used as weapons before Bean could process what was even happening.
So now, he sat and enjoyed the silent darkness. In Battle School he was never fond of it. Especially since nobody could control the lights there. Lights out was lights out. There was no going around the mandatory system, even with his capabilities. Now though, he felt content, and he also felt grateful. Bean had so many aspirations, and so many dreams of unifying the world, that he wasn't ready to die in some war zone.
And he would never forget that it was Ender who risked his own life to find them. Surely, he understood that Ender had a stronger relationship with Petra than with him, but that didn't lesson the extent of the sacrifice he was willing to make. And what surprised Bean was seeing Valentine. It was one thing for Ender to risk his own life, but an entirely different one for her to do the same. She must be willing to do anything for him. Bean immediately came to that conclusion, and he knew that he wasn't wrong. The two were close despite the years they'd been separated because of the Battle School. They weren't close as in: they knew everything about one another and how their brains worked, that clarity came with time. Time that Bean knew they didn't have together. Their relationship was something else entirely. Almost as if the two of them had a deep seeded connection from years ago that caused them to be fiercely protective of the other. And Bean knew, that if he didn't want to get on Ender's bad side, he would always be respectful to his sister. Otherwise, he was sure that it didn't matter who he was, he would get his ass kicked.
The sound of a door slamming and the patter of feet shuffling on the cement of the driveway, told Bean that the meeting with Graff was over. And Ender opening the door and getting into the vehicle, only confirmed that he was right. Only this time, Hyrum Graff got in behind him, and took a seat right beside Bean.
"MinCol Graff." Bean said formally.
"...Bean." Graff said after a moment. "You still like to be called Bean, right?"
"Yeah. It's the first name I had."
"I suppose Carlotta went through a little too much trouble to find your real one then."
"No, I like Julian. I'm just more accustomed to answering to Bean."
Graff nodded, and it seemed like he was only half paying attention to their commentary.
"Ender, if you will."
The youngest Wiggin turned to look at Graff from the window. He was sitting beside Valentine, but was now directly across from Graff, while Petra remained on the other side of Bean.
Bean couldn't help but recognize an odd calmness about Ender. His demeanour reminded Bean of how he was always perfectly poised in Battle School. He had to be in order to be a successful commander, and even though Bean occasionally loathed Ender's power back then, he knew that he'd never be able to earn the other student's respect like Ender did. It was clear, Ender had a gift, and it was clearly impossible that Bean would ever be able to duplicate his leadership abilities. After all, the kid was a born leader, and it didn't take a genius to figure it out. Bean on the other hand, he knew, just from how things were in the past, that he had a tendency to freeze up in situations when a good leader shouldn't. And no matter how much he tried, he had to admit to himself that it was Ender who was the better commander. Heck, he was so good that Bean would die for him. He would take a bullet for him without even blinking. After spending so much time secretly analyzing and then finally being taught by the infamous Ender, he'd grown to love him.
Bean worshipped him just as much as any of the others in his jeesh did, and he wouldn't be ashamed to admit it. It wasn't embarrassing after all. It was a sacred bond that Ender had forged within all of them. And that, in itself, was special enough to make him their commander for life.
"We have to go back to Battle School." Ender said.
"What?!" Petra said out of disbelief.
Ender didn't reply.
"But isn't it reconstructed for the colonists?" Petra asked what Bean had already been thinking.
Graff laughed, a long and excruciating sound coming out of his mouth. "And that is why, even though you kids have proven to be some of the smartest people in the world, I enjoy working with you."
At this, Bean noticed Ender raise an eyebrow. He didn't know anymore about what Graff was saying than the rest of them did.
"What?" Bean spoke up, wanting to move the conversation along.
It was obvious that Graff wouldn't talk unless someone coaxed him, so Bean gladly did the coaxing himself.
"I mean", Graff continued, "that even though you're incredibly intelligent, you're still children. That's a fact, and because of your lack of life, I can still manage to teach you."
Bean could tell just by the blank expression that rested on Ender's face, that the boy knew exactly what Graff was talking about now. They must've already discussed this inside the mansion.
"What Graff is still failing to say is that he's a liar, a manipulator, and better yet, a person with a complete lack of compassion."
Valentine smirked at her little brother's comment, but Bean refrained from adding more.
Graff sighed, and as he did, the vehicle began to move once again. They were already on their way to their next destination, and there wasn't going to be any time to rest.
"Just continue." Bean said. He was getting impatient.
So far, the man wasn't giving them answers, and neither was Ender. Both of them were keeping whatever it was to themselves.
A whirlwind of questions circled around in Bean's skull, wanting him, urging him to speak and to get to the bottom of his curiosity. Are we considered launchies again? Do we have to be in an army? What's the purpose of sending us back up there? How is the Battle School going to help us stop a landslide war? Why isn't it harbouring colonists?
Bean glanced at Ender in an attempt to hopefully get some answers, but he stopped himself from opening his mouth. Ender seemed... troubled by something. And Bean ruled whatever it was as the reason why Ender hadn't already told the three of them what was happening. He needed time, and Bean was more than willing to give it to him if necessary.
Ender spoke at once in response to Bean's statement, however, and didn't want to stall the truth any longer.
"The Battle School was never going to be converted into a place to harbour colonists of the Bugger worlds. As far as I understand, all of the former Battle School recruits have been redrafted, slowly, secretly."
"We couldn't get everyone." Graff stated. "Instead, we have the majority as well as a few new recruits."
The wheels started turning in Bean's mind, and he tried to come up with a logical explanation for this. He couldn't think of anything.
"So we're to go back to Battle School as before." Ender said.
"And you'll train the others to the extent to where we believe they're ready to fight." Graff cut in.
"All of them?" Petra asked.
"Yes, every last one of them." Graff said firmly.
"So you're not looking for one child anymore?" Valentine asked.
"No, this isn't like fighting the Formics. This is a war with guns, planes, and human beings. We need all of the intellectual knowledge we can get."
As Graff spoke, Bean analyzed Ender's expression. It was hard, and unforgiving. He wanted to reach out to him, but he knew better than to do it. In battle school, everyone knew that if Ender Wiggin needed someone to talk to, he would start the conversation. It wouldn't be the other way around.
Graff droned on about other things, but Bean, and Ender, didn't pay one bit of attention to them. Bean wanted to know what Ender was thinking, and he really wished that he had the ability to read minds. It would make him a whole lot easier to figure out.
"I don't think I'll be going anymore." Ender said nonchalantly , and he glanced at Valentine.
"What are you talking about, boy?" Graff asked. "You agreed to go when we were in the mansion."
"Well I didn't think about the restrictions when I told you." Ender glared at Graff.
The older man returned the look, and after a couple of seconds of an awkward stare down, Graff's expression changed.
Bean understood as well. Ender didn't actually mean that he wouldn't go. He would go, just as long as Graff agreed to his conditions.
"What do you want?"
At this, Ender smiled, but only slightly.
"I will be permitted my ansible, you have to agree that nobody will attempt to tamper with it, and..." he paused, "Valentine can come too."
Bean watched as Valentine raised her eyebrows, and looked at Ender, full of questions. He ignored her, even though he obviously saw her, and continued to look at Graff.
"..."
"If you can't accommodate my demands Colonel, I suggest you find a new commander."
"Fine.... permission granted."
"Good." Ender said. "If you didn't agree, I'm sure whoever is running the show up there would terminate your job. This time, permanently."
Graff went silent. Ender didn't say anymore, and went back to looking at the night sky. Petra kept her feelings about the situation private, and Valentine only looked annoyed. As for Bean, he now understood completely.
It took him a while to put together the pieces, and he doubted that Petra or Valentine figured it out, but Ender didn't have to say anything else. Bean was certain that he was angry because of the Martial.
From what he could tell, the whole thing had turned out to be a joke. For one thing, Ender was never supposed to leave Earth; Ender had filled Petra and Bean in on the fake verdict, and now he was told that the Battle School was never constructed for colonists. Graff was still running the show.
Ender'd called him Colonel even though he'd been reassigned to Minister of Colonization during the Martial. But... Bean assumed that Graff had confessed that the title was fake to Ender while they were in the mansion. In conclusion, the Martial was a complete and utter waste of time, since it was obvious that Graff was controlling everyone the entire time.
I'm sorry, Ender, Bean thought. Once again they've robbed you of the chance at a normal life. Once again, you've been tricked into doing Graff's bidding, and once again, you'll have to be in command. There is no scenario where any of this manipulation is justified.
Sure, you could argue that Bean, Petra, and every other Battle School child who was headed back to Battle School, was also forced to play the game again. That's because they were, however, not one of them were manipulated into getting there. Ender was the exception.
Ender'd always been the one who was isolated, alone, being tested. Bean knew this. He had seen it ever since he became a part of Dragon Army. The way the teachers messed with his mind; they made him believe things were real and then pulled the rug out from under him only after he'd done their bidding. It was disgusting, and even now, after all this time, Graff had succeeded in doing it again.
The pieces clicked together as perfectly if they were part of a puzzle in Bean's brain. Ender chose to go back home to have the chance to live a normal life. Only, Graff pretended to accept that and leave him alone. Instead, he somehow managed to use his influence to persuade the Court Martial staff to announce a fake verdict, give him a phoney position, advertise that the Battle School was being reconstructed when it wasn't, and promote loads of propaganda to convince the entire world that the main focus of the I.F. was colonizing the Bugger worlds. It was elaborate, and also horrible cruel to do to the one person humanity owed their existence to, but... Bean understood why Graff did it.
It was obvious that whether Graff wanted to or not, he had to do it. And even though he may care or even go so far as to love Ender, he still had a job to do above everything else. Ender's presence on Earth was and still is dangerous, but it would've been more tragic to lose him to a Bugger colony. Once again, the world, or what was left of the I.F. for that matter, needed him. And with that fact alone, Bean couldn't be angry. He only wished that Graff had found a better way to go about his plan. Maybe then, Ender wouldn't have needed to be manipulated for it to work. Perhaps, if Bean was there, he would've come up with a way for Ender to know and still be willing to play his part. Because after all he'd been through with Ender and the other kids, he knew that not one of them deserved to be a part of any more mind games.
-AN
Hehe... hi.. *says nervously*
But surprise, I updated! I'll keep this short and sweet. There've been some unexpected speed bumps in my life since I last updated, but to repay your patience I have two chapters for you! I'll be posting the other one tomorrow. I initially planned to have them both done for today cause it's Halloween, but the other one isn't quite there yet. So, not a long wait. And please forgive me once again. Even you silent readers, you're very gracious to keep reading. I love you, and thank you immensely.
Anyway, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!🎃 It's my favourite holiday, besides Christmas of course, because I mean, what's not to love?!
I hope you liked this one! Please comment, vote, follow, share with friends, Etc.
See ya in the next one,
-Jess xx