"Which I'm damned happy about, sir," said the captain. "If you hadn't whupped them for good and all, sir, we'd be looking over our shoulder through the next ten thousand years of human history."
There was a stab of insight there. Ender caught it and then it immediately slipped away. Something about the way the hive queens thought. Their purpose in letting Ender kill them.
Well, if it's true, then I'll think of it again.
Ender hoped that optimistic thought was right.
When all of Ender's tours and training sessions were finished, he finally got an interview with the Minister of Colonization.
"Please don't call me Colonel," said Graff.
"I can't call you MinCol."
"Officially, a Hegemony minister is addressed as 'Your Excellency.' "
"With a straight face?"
"Sometimes," said Graff. "But we're colleagues, Ender. I call you by your first name. You can call me by mine."
"Never in my life," said Ender. "You're Colonel Graff to me, and that will never change."
"Doesn't matter," said Graff. "I'll be dead before you get to your destination."
"Hardly seems fair. Come with us."
"I have to be here to get my own work done."
"My work is done."
"I don't know about that," said Graff. "The work we had for you is done. But you don't even know yet what your own work is going to be."
"I know it won't be governing a colony, sir."
"And yet you accepted the job."
Ender shook his head. "I accepted the title. When I get to the colony, then we'll see just how much of a governor I'll be. The Constitution you came up with is good, but the real constitution is always the same: The leader only has as much power as his followers give him."
"And yet you're going to make the voyage awake instead of in stasis."
"It's only a couple of years," said Ender. "And it'll make me fifteen when we arrive. I'm hoping I'll get taller."
"I hope you're bringing a lot of books to read."
"They stocked a few thousand titles for me in the ship's library," said Ender. "But what matters to me is that you use the ansible to give us all the information about the formics that comes out while we're in flight."
"Of course," said Graff. "That will be sent to all the ships."
Ender smiled slightly.
"All right, yes, of course I'll send them directly to you as well. What, are you suspecting that the ship's captain will try to control your access to information?"
"If you were in his place, wouldn't you do the same?"
"Ender, I would never let myself get in the position of trying to control you against your will."
"You just spent the last six years doing that."
"And got court-martialed for it, you'll notice."
"And your punishment was to get the job you've wanted all along. Let me see. Minister of Colonization doesn't go to Earth to be under the thumb of the Hegemon. He stays in space, nicely ensconced with the International Fleet. So even if they change hegemons, it won't involve you. And if they fire you—"
"They won't," said Graff.
"You're so sure of that."
"It's not a prediction, it's an intention."
"You, sir, are a piece of work," said Ender.
"Oh, speaking of pieces of work," said Graff, "did you hear that Demosthenes has retired?"
"The guy on the nets?" asked Ender.
"I don't mean the Greek author of the Philippics."
"I don't actually care," said Ender. "It's just the nets."
"The nets, and this rabble-rouser's screeds in particular, are where the battle was played out and you lost," said Graff.
"Who says I lost?" asked Ender.
"Touché," said Graff. "My point is that the person behind the online identity is actually younger than most people imagined. So the retirement isn't about age, it's about leaving home. Leaving Earth."
"Demosthenes is becoming a colonist?"
"Isn't that an odd choice," said Graff, sounding as if it weren't odd to him at all.
"Please don't tell me he's coming on my ship."
"Technically, it's Admiral Quincy Morgan's ship. You don't take over till you set foot on the ground in your colony. That's the law."
"Dodging the question as usual."
"Yes, you'll have Demosthenes on your ship. But of course no one will be using that name."
"You've been avoiding the use of the masculine pronoun—of any pronoun," said Ender. "So Demosthenes is a woman."
"And she's eager to see you."
Ender sagged in his chair. "Oh, sir, please."
"Not your normal hero-worshiper, Ender. And since she's also going to be awake through your whole voyage, I think you'll want to be prepared by seeing her in advance."
"When is she coming?"
"She's here."
"On Eros?"
"In my cozy little antechamber," said Graff.
"You're going to make me meet her now? Colonel Graff, I don't like anything she wrote. Or the result."
"Give her credit. She was warning the world about the Warsaw Pact's attempt to take over the fleet long before anybody else took the threat seriously."
"She was also crowing about how America could conquer the world once it had me."
"You can ask her about that."
"I have no such intention."
"Let me tell you one pure and simple truth. In everything she wrote about you, Ender, her only concern was to protect you from the terrible things people would have done to exploit you or destroy you if you ever set foot on Earth."
"I could have dealt with it."
"We'll never know, will we?"
"If I know you, sir, what you just told me is that you were behind this. Keeping me off Earth."
"Not really," said Graff. "I went along with it, yes."
Ender wanted to cry. From sheer moral exhaustion. "Because you know better than me what's in my best interest."
"In this case, Ender, I think you could have dealt with any challenge that came to you. Except one. Your brother, Peter, is determined to rule the world. You would have been either his tool or his enemy. Which would you have chosen?"
"Peter?" asked Ender. "Do you think he really has a chance of it?"
"He's done incredibly well so far—for a teenager."
"Isn't he twenty by now? No, I guess he'd still be seventeen. Or eighteen."
"I don't keep track of your family's birthdays," said Graff.
"If he's doing such a great job," said Ender, "why haven't I heard of him?"
"Oh, you have."
That meant Peter was using a pseudonym. Ender quickly thought through all the online personalities that might be considered close to some kind of world domination and when he got it, he sighed. "Peter is Locke."
"So, clever boy, who is Demosthenes?"
Ender rose to his feet and to his own chagrin he was crying, just like that. He didn't even know he was crying till his cheeks were wet and he couldn't see for the blur. "Valentine," he whispered.
"I'm going to leave my office now and let the two of you talk," said Graff.