Enders In Exile

knew that's what Wiggin wanted him to say—that Wiggin
wanted to determine the course of the conversation. So instead he
asked, "Why would you want to see me? You're the celebrity, I think."
    "Oh, we're both quite
famous enough," said Ender, now chuckling outright. "Me for what I've
done.
You for what you've
said.
"
    And with that, Ender
smiled. Mockingly?
    "Are you trying to goad
me into some ill-considered action, Mr. Wiggin?"
    "Please," said Ender.
"Call me Andrew."
    "The name of a
Christian saint," said Achilles. "I prefer to call you by the name of a
monstrous war criminal . . . Ender."
    "If there were some way
to bring back the hive queens," said Ender, "and restore them to their
former glory and power, would you do it, Mr. Firth?"
    Achilles recognized the
trap at once. It was one thing to read The Hive Queen and shed a tear
for a vanished race. It was quite another to wish for them to
return—it was an invitation for headlines saying, "Leader of
Natives Movement would bring back formics," along with grisly pictures
from the Scouring of China.
    "I don't indulge in
hypotheticals," said Achilles.
    "Except the
hypothetical charge that I plan to kill you in your sleep during the
voyage back to Earth."
    "Not
my
accusation," said Achilles. "I was quoted in your defense."
    "Your 'defense' is the
only reason anyone heard of the accusation," said Ender. "Please don't
think that I'm fooled."
    "Who would hope to fool
a genius like you?"
    "Well, we've sparred
long enough. I just wanted to look at you."
    Achilles made a
flamboyant turn, so Ender could inspect him from all sides. "Is that
enough?"
    Suddenly tears came
into Ender's eyes.
    What game was he
playing now?
    "Thank you," Ender
said. Then he turned away to rejoin his sister and the governor.
    "Wait," said Achilles.
He didn't understand what that teary-eyed thing meant, and it
disconcerted him.
    But Wiggin didn't wait,
or turn back. He simply walked to the others and they turned away from
the river, walking back into the city.
    Achilles had meant this
confrontation—which was being recorded by zoom lens and
microphone—for a propaganda vid. He had expected to be able
to goad Ender into some rash statement or absurd denial. Even a clip of
Ender angry would have done the job. But he was unflappable, he had
fallen into no traps, and with that last bit of maudlin emotion he may
well have set or sprung one, though Achilles could not think of what
the trap might be.
    An unsatisfactory
encounter in every way. And yet he could not explain to his followers
why he didn't want to use the vid they had so painstakingly created. So
he allowed them to post it, then waited for the other shoe to drop.
    No one on Earth knew
what to make of it, either. Commentators noticed the tears in Ender's
eyes, of course, and speculated about it. Some Nativists proclaimed it
to be crocodile tears—the weeping of the predator at the
coming fate of his victim. But some saw something else. "Ender Wiggin
did not look the part he's been cast in—the killer, the
monster. Instead, he seemed to be a gentle young man, bemused at the
obviously planned confrontation. At the end, those infamous tears
seemed to me to be a kind of compassion. Perhaps even love for his
challenger. Who is trying to pick the fight here?"
    That was
terrible—but it was only one voice among many. And Achilles'
supporters on Earth quickly replied: Who would dare to pick a fight
with Ender the Xenocide? It always turns out so badly for those who do.
    All his life, Achilles
had been able to control things. Even when unexpected things happened,
he had adapted, analyzed, and learned. This time he had no idea what to
learn.
    "I don't know what he's
doing, Mother," said Achilles.
    She stroked his head.
"Oh, my poor darling," she said. "Of course you don't, you're such an
innocent. Just like your father. He never saw their plots. He
trusted
that Suriyawong monster."
    Achilles didn't
actually like it when she talked that way. "It's not our place to
pity
him, Mother."
    "But I do. He had such
great gifts, but in the end, his trusting nature betrayed him. It was
his tragic flaw, that he was too kind and good."
    Achilles had studied
his father's life and had seen strength and hardness, the willingness
to do whatever was necessary. Compassion and a trusting nature were not
obvious attributes of Achilles the Great, however.
    Let Mother
sentimentalize him as she wished. After all, didn't she now "remember"
that Achilles the Great had