Peter looked at her with amused contempt. "Oh, going freelance, eh?"
"I think I can scare people into keeping Ender in space better than you can make them pity him enough to bring him home."
"I thought you loved him best. I thought you wanted him home."
"I wanted him home for the past seven years, Peter," said Valentine, "and you were glad he was gone. But now—to bring him home so that he can be under the protection of the Hegemon's Council—which means under your control, since you've got the thing packed with your toadies—"
"Locke's toadies," Peter corrected her.
"I'm not helping you bring Ender home so he can be a tool to advance your career."
"So you'd make your beloved little brother stay in permanent exile in space, just to spite your nasty older brother?" asked Peter. "Wow, I'm glad I'm not the one you love."
"You nailed it, Peter," said Valentine. "I've spent all these years under your thumb. I know exactly how it feels. Ender would hate it. I know, because I hate it."
"You've loved the whole thing. Being Demosthenes—you know what power feels like."
"I know what it feels like to have power flow through me and into your hands," said Valentine.
"Is that what this is about? You're suddenly power hungry?"
"Peter, you're such an idiot about the people you supposedly know best. I'm not telling you I want your power. I'm telling you that I'm getting out from under your thumb."
"Fine, I'll just write the Demosthenes essays myself."
"No you won't, because people would know something was wrong. You can't do Demosthenes."
"Anything you can do . . ."
"I've changed all the passwords. I've hidden all of Demosthenes' memberships and money and you can't get to any of it."
Peter gazed at her with pity. "I'll find it all if I want to."
"It wouldn't do you any good. Demosthenes is retiring from politics, Peter. He's going to plead ill health and offer a ringing endorsement . . . of Locke!"
Peter looked horrorstruck. "You can't! It would destroy Locke to have Demosthenes' endorsement!"
"You see? I do have some weapons you fear."
"Why would you do this? All these years, and suddenly now you've decided to pack up your dolls and dishes and leave the tea party?"
"I never played with dolls, Peter. Apparently you did."
"Stop this," said Peter sternly. "Really. It's not funny. Let's get Ender home. I won't try to control him the way you're saying."
"You mean the way you control me."
"Come on, Val," said Peter. "Just a couple more years and I can unmask myself as Locke—and as Ender's brother. Sure, salvaging his reputation will help me, but it'll help Ender, too."
"I think you should do it. Salvage away, Peter. But I don't think Ender should come home. Instead, I'll go to him. Mom and Dad will, too, I bet."
"They're not going to pay for you to have a jaunt into space—not all the way to Eros. That would take months anyway. Right now it's practically on the other side of the sun."
"Not a jaunt," said Valentine. "I'm leaving Earth. I'm joining Ender in exile."
For a moment Peter believed her. It was gratifying to see genuine alarm on his face. Then he relaxed. "Mom and Dad won't let you," he said.
"Fifteen-year-old females don't have to have their parents' consent to volunteer to be colonists. We're the ideal age for reproduction, and are assumed to be dumb enough to volunteer."
"What do the colonies have to do with anything? Ender's not going to be a colonist."
"What else will they do with him? It's the only task remaining for the I.F., and he's their responsibility. That's why I'm making arrangements to get assigned to the same colony as him."
"Where did you get these imasen ideas?" If she didn't understand Battle School slang, too bad. "Colonies, voluntary exile, it's just crazy. The future is here on Earth, not out at the far reaches of the galaxy."
"The formics' worlds were all in the same arm of the galaxy as us, and not all that far away, as galaxies go," said Valentine primly, to goad him. "And Peter, just because your future is all tied up with trying to become the ruler of the world doesn't mean that I want to spend my whole future as your sidekick. You've had my youth, you've used me up, but I will spend my declining years without you, my love."
"It's sickening when you talk as if we were married."
"I'm talking as if we were in an old movie," said Valentine.
"I don't watch movies," said Peter, "so I wouldn't know."
"There's so much you 'wouldn't know,' " said Valentine. For a moment she was tempted to tell him all about Ender's visit to Earth, when Graff tried to use Valentine to persuade a burnt-out Ender to get back to work. And to tell Peter that Graff knew all about their secret identities on the nets. That would take the smirk off his face.
But what would that accomplish? It was better for everyone to leave Peter in blissful ignorance.
While they were talking, Peter had been doing some desultory pointing and typing on his desk. Now he was seeing something in his holo that made him as angry as she had ever seen him. "What?" she asked, assuming it was some dreadful world news.
"You shut down my back doors!"
It took her a moment to understand what he meant. Then she realized—he had apparently thought she wouldn't notice that he had secret access points to all of Demosthenes' vital sites and identities. What an idiot. When he made a big deal about how he had created all these wonderful identities and accounts for her, of course she assumed that he had created back doors to all of them so he could always come in and change what she did. Why would he imagine she'd leave things that way? She found them all within a few weeks; anything he could do with Demosthenes on the nets, she could undo. So when she changed all the passwords and access codes, of course she closed the back doors, too. What did he think?
"Peter," she said, "they wouldn't be locked if I let you have a key, now, would they?"
Peter rose to his feet, his face turning red, his fists clenched. "You ungrateful little bitch."
"What are you going to do, Peter? Hit me? I'm ready. I think I can take you down."
Peter sat back down. "Go," he said. "Go into space. Shut down Demosthenes. I don't need you. I don't need anybody."
"That's why you're such a loser," said Valentine. "You'll never rule the world until you figure out that you can't do it without everybody's cooperation. You can't fool them, you can't force them. They have to want to follow you. Like Alexander's soldiers wanted to follow him and fight for him. And the moment they stopped wanting to, his power evaporated. You need everybody but you're too narcissistic to know it."
"I need the willing cooperation of key people here on Earth," said Peter, "but you won't be one of them, will you? So go, tell Mom and Dad what you're doing. Break their hearts. What do you care? You're going off to see your precious Ender."