"Because the Hive Queens aren't the only aliens out there."
Bean sat up.
"No, no, we haven't seen any, we have no evidence. But think about it. As long as humans seemed to be unique, we could live out our species history as we always had. But now we know that it's possible for intelligent life to evolve twice, and in very different ways. If twice, then why not three times? Or four? There's nothing special about our corner of the galaxy. The Hive Queens were remarkably close to us. There could be thousands of intelligent species in our galaxy alone. And not all of them as nice as we are."
"So you're dispersing us."
"As far and wide as we can. Planting our seed in every soil."
"And for that you want Earth united."
"We want Earth to stop wasting its resources on war, and spend them on colonizing world after world, and then trading among them so that the whole species can profit from what each one learns and achieves and becomes. It's basic economics. And history. And evolution. And science. Disperse. Vary. Discover. Publish. Explore."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Bean. "How noble of you. Who's paying for all this now?"
"Bean," said Rackham. "You don't expect me to tell you, and I don't expect you to have to ask."
Bean knew. It was America. Big sleepy do-nothing America. Burned out from trying to police the world back in the twenty-first century, disgusted at the way their efforts earned them nothing but hatred and resentment, they declared victory and went home. They kept the strongest military in the world and closed their doors to immigration.
And when the Buggers came, it was American military might that finally blew up those first exploratory ships that scoured the surface of some of the best agricultural land in China, killing millions. It was America that mostly funded and directed the construction of the interplanetary warships that resisted the Second Invasion long enough for New Zealander Mazer Rackham to find the Hive Queen's vulnerability and destroy the enemy.
It was America that was secretly funding the I.F. now, developing new ships. Getting its hand into the business of interstellar trade at a time when no other nation on Earth could even attempt to compete.
"And how will it be in their interest for the world to be united, except under their leadership?"
Rackham smiled. "So now you know how deep our game has to be."
Bean smiled back. So Graff had sold his colony program to the Americans—probably on the basis of future trade and a probable American monopoly. And in the meantime, he was backing Peter in the hope that he could unite the world under one government. Which would mean, eventually, a showdown between America and the Hegemon.
"And when the day comes," said Bean, "when America expects the I.F., which it's been paying for and researching for, to come to its aid against a powerful Hegemon, what will the I.F. do?"
"What did Suriyawong do when Achilles ordered him to kill you?"
"Gave him a knife and told him to defend himself." Bean nodded. "But will the I.F. obey you? If you're counting on the reputation of Mazer Rackham, remember that hardly anybody knows you're alive."
"I'm counting on the I.F. living up to the code of honor that every soldier has drummed into him from the start. No interference on Earth."
"Even as you break that code yourself."
"We're not interfering," said Rackham. "Not with troops or ships. Just a little information here and there. A dollop of money. And a little, tiny bit of recruitment. Help us, Bean. While you're still on Earth. The minute you're ready to go, we'll send you, no delays. But while you're here..."
"What if I don't believe Peter's as decent a man as you think he is?"
"He's better than Achilles."
"So was Augustus," said Bean. "But he laid the foundation for Nero and Caligula."
"He laid a foundation that survived Caligula and Nero and lasted for a millennium and a half, in one form or another."
"And you think that's Peter?"
"We do," said Rackham. "I do."
"As long as you understand that Peter won't do a thing I say, won't listen to me or anyone, and will go on making idiotic mistakes that I can't prevent, then ... yes. I'll help him, as much as he'll let me."
"That's all we ask."
"But I'll still give my first priority to finding my children."
"How about this," said Rackham. "How about if we tell you where Volescu is?"
"You know?"
"He's in one of our safe houses," said Rackham.
"He accepted the protection of the I.F.?"
"He thinks it's part of Achilles's old network."
"Is it?"
"Somebody had to take over his assets."
"Somebody could only do that if they knew where his assets were."
"Who do you think maintains all the communications satellites?" asked Rackham.
"So the I.F. is spying on Earth."
"Just as a mother spies on her children at play in the yard."
"Good to know you're looking out for us, Mummy."
Rackham leaned forward. "Bean, we make our plans, but we know we might fail. Ultimately, it all comes down to this. We've seen human beings at their best, and we think our species is worth saving."
"Even if you have to have the help of non-humans like me."
"Bean, when I spoke of human beings at their best, whom do you think I was talking about?"
"Ender Wiggin," said Bean.
"And Julian Delphiki," said Rackham. "The other little boy we trusted to save the world."
Bean shook his head and stood up. "Not so little now," said Bean. "And dying. But I'll take your offer because it gives me a hope for my little family. And apart from that, I have no hope at all. Tell me where Volescu is, and I'll go see him."
"You'll have to secure him yourself," said Rackham. "We can't have I.F. agents involved."
"Give me the address and I'll do the rest."
Bean ducked again to leave the room. And he was trembling as he walked through the park, back toward his office in the Hegemony compound. Huge armies prepared to clash, in a struggle for supremacy. And off to one side, not even on the surface of Earth, there were a handful of men who intended to turn those armies to their own purposes.
They were Archimedes, preparing to move the Earth because they finally had a lever big enough.
I'm the lever.
And I'm not as big us they think I am. Not as big as I seem. It can't be done.
Yet it might just be worth doing.
So I'll let them use me to try to pry the world of men loose from its age-old path of competition and war.
And I'll use them to try to save my life and the lives of my children who share my disease.
And the chance of both projects succeeding is so slim that the odds are much better of the Earth being hit by a disastrously huge meteor first.
Then again, they probably already have a plan to deal with a meteor strike. They probably have a plan for everything. Even a plan they can turn to if ... when ... I fail.
5
SHIVA
From: Figurehead%Parent@hegemon.gov
To: PeterWiggin%Private@hegemon.gov
Password: ********
Re: Speaking as a mother
After all these years of posing as the Madonna in your little Pieta, it occurs to me that I might whisper something in your oh-so busy ear:
Ever since Achilles's little kidnapping venture, the not-so-secret weapon in everyone's arsenal is whatever array of Battle School graduates they're able to acquire, keep, and deploy. Now it's even worse. Alai is Caliph in fact as well as name. Han Tzu is emperor of China. Virlomi is ... what, a goddess? That's what I hear, coming out of India.