A War of Gifts: An Ender Story

know the answer. If the only way a kid can go home is acting like Zeck and being treated like Zeck, there’s not a kid in this school who’d do it.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “But I do,” said Graff. “Remember, you were all tested and observed. Not just for logic, memory, spatial relationships, verbal ability, but also character attributes. Quick decision-making. Ability to grasp the whole of a situation. The ability to get along well with other people.”
    “So how the hell did Zeck get here in the first place?”
    “Zeck is brilliant at getting along with people,” said Graff. “When he wants to.”
    Dink didn’t believe it.
    “Zeck can handle even megalomaniacal sociopaths and keep them from harming other people. He’s a natural peacemaker in a human community, Dink. It’s his best gift.”
    “That’s just kuso,” said Dink. “Everybody hated him right from the start.”
    “Because he wanted you to. He’s getting exactly what he wants, right now. Including you coming here to talk to me. All exactly what he wants.”
    “I don’t think so,” said Dink.
    “That’s because you don’t know the thing that I was debating with myself about telling you.”
    “So tell me.”
    “No,” said Graff. “The side arguing for discretion won, and I won’t tell.”
    Dink ignored the obfuscation. Graff wanted him to beg. Instead, Dink thought about what Graff had said about Zeck’s abilities. Had Zeck somehow been playing him? Him and everybody else?
    “Why?” asked Dink. “Why would he deliberately alienate everybody?”
    “Because nobody hated him enough,” said Graff. “He needed to be so hated that we gave up on him and sent him home.”
    “I think you give him credit for more plans than he actually has,” said Dink. “He didn’t know what would happen.”
    “I didn’t say his plan was conscious. He just wants to go home. He believes he has to go home.”
    “Why?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I can’t trust you.”
    “If I say I won’t repeat a story, I won’t repeat it.”
    “Oh, I know you can be discreet. I just don’t think I can trust you to do the job that needs doing.”
    “And what job is that?”
    “Healing Zeck Morgan.”
    “I tried. He won’t let me near him.”
    “I know,” said Graff. “So the thing you want to know, I’m going to tell to someone else. Someone who is also discreet. Someone who can heal him.”
    Dink thought about that for a few moments.
    “Ender Wiggin.”
    “That’s your nominee?” asked Graff.
    “No,” said Dink. “He’s yours. You think he can do anything.”
    Graff smiled a little Mona Lisa smile, if Mona Lisa had been a pudgy colonel.
    “I hope he can,” said Dink. “Should I send him to you?”
    “I’ll bet you,” said Graff, “that Ender never needs to come to me at all.”
    “He’ll just know what to do without being told.”
    “He’ll act like Ender Wiggin, and in the process he’ll find out what he needs to know from Zeck himself.”
    “Wiggin doesn’t talk to Zeck either.”
    “You mean that you haven’t seen him talk to Zeck.”
    Dink nodded. “Okay, that’s what I mean.”
    “Give him time,” said Graff.
    Dink got up from his chair.
    “I haven’t dismissed you, soldier.”
    Dink stopped and saluted. “Permission to leave your office and return to my barracks to continue feeling like a complete shit, sir.”
    “Denied,” said Graff. “Oh, you can feel like whatever you want, that’s not my business. But your effort on behalf of Zeck has been duly noted.”
    “I didn’t come here for a commendation.”
    “And you’re not getting one. All you’re getting from this is my good opinion of your character. It’s not easily won, but once won, my good opinion is hard to lose. It’s a burden you’ll have to carry with you for some time. Learn to live with it. Now get out of here, soldier.”
    9

    WIGGIN

    Zeck came upon Wiggin at one of the elevator wells. It wasn’t one much used by students-it was out of the normal lanes of traffic, and mostly teachers used it, when it was used at all. Zeck used it precisely for that reason. He could wait in line at the busier elevators for a long time, but somehow he never got to the front of the line until everyone else had gone. That was usually fine with Zeck, but at mealtime, when everyone was headed for the same destination, it was the difference between a hot meal with a lot of choices and a colder one with almost no