A War of Gifts: An Ender Story

stranger. “You’ve come to us with a lie on your lips, one which even a child could detect. Why are you here, and who sent you?”
    “I was sent by the International Fleet, and my purpose is to test this boy to see if he is qualified to attend Battle School.”
    “We are Christians, sir,” said Father. “God will protect us if that is his will. We will lift no hand against our enemy.”
    “I’m not here to argue theology,” said the stranger. “I’m here to carry out the law. There are no exemptions because of the religion of the parents.”
    “What about for the religion of the child?” asked Father.
    “Children have no religion,” said the stranger. “That’s why we take them young-before they have been fully indoctrinated in any ideology.”
    “So you can indoctrinate them in yours,” said Father.
    “Exactly,” said the man.
    Then the man reached out to Zeck. “Come with me, Zechariah Morgan. We’ve set up the examination in your parents’ house.”
    Zeck turned his back on the man.
    “He does not choose to take your test,” said Father.
    “And yet,” said the man, “he will take it, one way or another.”
    The congregation murmured at that.
    The man from the International Fleet looked around at them. “Our responsibility in the International Fleet is to protect the human race from the Formic invaders. We protect the whole human race-even those who don’t wish to be protected-and we draw upon the most brilliant minds of the human race and train them for command-even those who do not wish to be trained. What if this boy were the most brilliant of all, the commander that would lead us to victory where no other could succeed? Should everyone else in the human race die, just so you in this congregation can remain… pure?”
    “Yes,” said Father. And the congregation echoed him. “Yes. Yes.”
    “We are the leaven in the loaf,” said Father. “We are the salt that must keep its savor, lest the whole earth be destroyed. It is our purity that will persuade God to preserve this wicked generation, not your violence.”
    The man laughed. “Your purity against our violence.” His hand lashed out and he seized Zeck by the collar of his shirt and dragged him sharply backward, toward him. Before anyone could do more than shout in protest, he had torn Zeck’s shirt from his body and then whirled him around to show his scarred back, with the freshest wounds still bright red, and the newest of all still beading with blood from this sudden movement. “What about your violence? We don’t raise our hands against children.”
    “Don’t you?” said Father. “To spare the rod is to spoil the child-God has told us how to make our children pure from the moment they achieve accountability until they have mastered their own discipline. I strike my son’s body to teach his spirit to embrace the pure love of Christ. You will teach him to hate his enemies, so that it no longer matters whether his body is living or dead, for his soul will be polluted and God will spit him out of his mouth.”
    The man threw Zeck’s shirt in Father’s face. “Come back to your house and you’ll find us there with your son, doing what the law requires.”
    Zeck tore away from the man’s grip. The man was holding him very tightly, but Zeck had a great advantage: He didn’t care how much it hurt to pull himself free. “I will not go with you,” said Zeck. The man touched a small electronic patch on his belt and immediately the door burst open and a dozen armed men filed in.
    “I will place your father under arrest,” said the man from the fleet. “And your mother. And anyone in this congregation who resists me.”
    Mother came forward then, pushing her way past Father and several others. “Then you know nothing about us,” said Mother. “We have no intention of resisting you. When a Roman demands a cloak from us, we give unto him our coat also.” She pushed the two older girls toward the man. “Test them all. Test the youngest, too, if you can. She doesn’t speak yet, but no doubt you have your ways.”
    “We’ll be back for them, even though the two youngest are illegal. But not till they come of age.”
    “You can steal our son’s body,” said Mother. “But you can never steal his heart. Train him all you want. Teach him whatever you want. His heart is pure. He will recite your words back to you but he will never, never believe them. He belongs to the Pure Christ, not to the human