Enders In Exile

would take months anyway. Right now it's practically on the
other side of the sun."
    "Not a jaunt," said
Valentine. "I'm leaving Earth. I'm joining Ender in exile."
    For a moment Peter
believed her. It was gratifying to see genuine alarm on his face. Then
he relaxed. "Mom and Dad won't let you," he said.
    "Fifteen-year-old
females don't have to have their parents' consent to volunteer to be
colonists. We're the ideal age for reproduction, and are assumed to be
dumb enough to volunteer."
    "What do the colonies
have to do with anything? Ender's not going to be a colonist."
    "What else will they do
with him? It's the only task remaining for the I.F., and he's their
responsibility. That's why I'm making arrangements to get assigned to
the same colony as him."
    "Where did you get
these imasen ideas?" If she didn't understand Battle School slang, too
bad. "Colonies, voluntary exile, it's just crazy. The future is here on
Earth, not out at the far reaches of the galaxy."
    "The formics' worlds
were all in the same arm of the galaxy as us, and not all that far
away, as galaxies go," said Valentine primly, to goad him. "And Peter,
just because
your
future is all tied up with
trying to become the ruler of the world doesn't mean that I want to
spend my whole future as your sidekick. You've had my youth, you've
used me up, but I will spend my declining years without you, my love."
    "It's sickening when
you talk as if we were married."
    "I'm talking as if we
were in an old movie," said Valentine.
    "I don't watch movies,"
said Peter, "so I wouldn't know."
    "There's so much you
'wouldn't know,' " said Valentine. For a moment she was tempted to tell
him all about Ender's visit to Earth, when Graff tried to use Valentine
to persuade a burnt-out Ender to get back to work. And to tell Peter
that Graff knew all about their secret identities on the nets. That
would take the smirk off his face.
    But what would that
accomplish? It was better for everyone to leave Peter in blissful
ignorance.
    While they were
talking, Peter had been doing some desultory pointing and typing on his
desk. Now he was seeing something in his holo that made him as angry as
she had ever seen him. "What?" she asked, assuming it was some dreadful
world news.
    "You shut down my back
doors!"
    It took her a moment to
understand what he meant. Then she realized—he had apparently
thought she wouldn't notice that he had secret access points to all of
Demosthenes' vital sites and identities. What an idiot. When he made a
big deal about how he had created all these wonderful identities and
accounts for her, of
course
she assumed that he
had created back doors to all of them so he could always come in and
change what she did. Why would he imagine she'd leave things that way?
She found them all within a few weeks; anything he could do with
Demosthenes on the nets, she could undo. So when she changed all the
passwords and access codes, of course she closed the back doors, too.
What did he think?
    "Peter," she said,
"they wouldn't be locked if I let you have a key, now, would they?"
    Peter rose to his feet,
his face turning red, his fists clenched. "You ungrateful little bitch."
    "What are you going to
do, Peter? Hit me? I'm ready. I think I can take you down."
    Peter sat back down.
"Go," he said. "Go into space. Shut down Demosthenes. I don't need you.
I don't need anybody."
    "That's why you're such
a loser," said Valentine. "You'll never rule the world until you figure
out that you can't do it without
everybody's
cooperation. You can't fool them, you can't force them. They have to
want
to follow you. Like Alexander's soldiers wanted to follow him and fight
for him. And the moment they stopped wanting to, his power evaporated.
You need
everybody
but you're too narcissistic to
know it."
    "I need the willing
cooperation of key people here on Earth," said Peter, "but you won't be
one of them, will you? So go, tell Mom and Dad what you're doing. Break
their hearts. What do
you
care? You're going off
to see your precious Ender."
    "You still hate him,"
said Valentine.
    "I never hated him,"
said Peter. "But at this moment, I certainly do hate you. Not a lot,
but enough to make me want to piss on your bed."
    It was a standing joke
between them. She couldn't help it. It made her laugh. "Oh, Peter,
you're such a
boy.
"
    * * * * *
    Mother and Father took
her decision surprisingly well. But they refused to come with her.
"Val," Father said, "I think you're right—Ender won't be
coming