Ender's Game (Ender Wiggins Saga)

the inexperienced soldiers fresh out of their launch groups were completely helpless when it came to doing two or three things at the same time. It was fine to practice jackknifing with frozen legs, they had no trouble maneuvering in midair, but to launch in one direction, fire in another, spin twice, rebound with a jackknife off a wall, and come out firing, facing the right direction -- that was way beyond them. Drill drill drill, that was all Ender would be able to do with them for a while. Strategies and formations were nice, but they were nothing if the army didn't know how to handle themselves in battle.
      He had to get this army ready now . He was early at being a commander, and the teachers were changing the rules now, not letting him trade, giving him no top-notch veterans. There was no guarantee that they'd give him the usual three months to get his army together before sending them into battle.
      At least in the evenings he'd have Alai and Shen to help him train his new boys.
      He was still in the corridor leading out of the battleroom when he found himself face to face with little Bean. Bean looked angry. Ender didn't want problems right now.
      "Ho, Bean.”
      "Ho, Ender.”
      Pause.
      " Sir ," Ender said softly.
      "I know what you're doing, Ender, sir, and I'm warning you.”
      "Warning me?”
      "I can be the best man you've got, but don't play games with me.”
      "Or what?”
      "Or I'll be the worst man you've got. One or the other,”
      "And what do you want, love and kisses?" Ender was getting angry now.
      Bean looked unworried. "I want a toon.”
      Ender walked back to him and stood looking down into his eyes. "Why should you get a toon?”
      "Because I'd know what to do with it.”
      "Knowing what to do with a toon is easy," Ender said. "It's getting them to do it that's hard. Why would any soldier want to follow a little pinprick like you?”
      "They used to call you that, I hear. I hear Bonzo Madrid still does.”
      "I asked you a question, soldier.”
      "I'll earn their respect, if you don't stop me.”
      Ender grinned. "I'm helping you.”
      "Like hell," said Bean.
      "Nobody would notice you, except to feel sorry for the little kid. But I made sure they all noticed you today. They'll be watching every move you make. All you have to do to earn their respect now is be perfect.”
      "So I don't even get a chance to learn before I'm being judged.”
      "Poor kid. Nobody's treatin’ him fair." Ender gently pushed Bean back against the wall. "I'll tell you how to get a toon. Prove to me you know what you're doing as a soldier. Prove to me you know how to use other soldiers. And then prove to me that somebody's willing to follow you into battle. Then you'll get your toon. But not bloody well until.”
      Bean smiled. "That's fair. If you actually work that way, I'll be a toon leader in a month.”
      Ender reached down and grabbed the front of his uniform and shoved him into the wall. "When I say I work a certain way, Bean, then that's the way I work.”
      Bean just smiled. Ender let go of him and walked away. When he got to his room he lay down on his bed and trembled. What am I doing? My first practice session and I'm already bullying people the way Bonzo did. And Peter. Shoving people around. Picking on some poor little kid so the others'll have somebody they all hate. Sickening. Everything I hated in a commander, and I'm doing it.
      Is it some law of human nature that you inevitably become whatever your first commander was? I can quit right now, if that's so.
      Over and over he thought of the things he did and said in his first practice with his new army. Why couldn't he talk like he always did in his evening practice group? No authority except excellence. Never had to give orders, just made suggestions. But that wouldn't work, not with an army. His informal practice group didn't have to learn to do things together. They didn't have to develop a group feeling; they never had to learn how to hold together and trust each other in battle. They didn't have to respond instantly to command.
      And he could go to the other extreme, too. He could be as lax and incompetent as Rose the Nose, if he wanted. He could make stupid mistakes no matter what he did. He had to have discipline, and that meant demanding -- and getting -- quick, decisive obedience.   He had to have a well-trained army, and that meant drilling the soldiers over and over again,