Enders In Exile

Valentine. She couldn't keep up. She didn't leap
to conclusions as quickly as Val—or at least not to the same
conclusions. She couldn't really hold up her end.
    Where am I going to
find anyone I
can
marry? Ender wondered. Nowhere
and never, if I compare them all to Valentine.
    All right, yes, I knew
I was causing Alessandra to have feelings. I like it when she looks at
me like that. Petra never looked at me that way. Nobody did. It feels
good. The hormones wake up and get excited. It's fun. I'm fifteen. I
haven't said anything to mislead her about my intentions, and
I haven't done anything, not ever, to signal any kind of physical
attraction. So shoot me for liking that she likes me and doing the
things that make her feel that way. What's the rule here? Either
totally ignore her and grind her face in her nothingness, or marry her
on the spot? Are those the only choices?
    But gnawing at the back
of his mind was this question: Am I Peter? Am I using other people for
whatever plan I have? Does it make a difference that my intention is to
have a result that will give her a chance at happiness? I'm not asking
her, I'm not giving her a choice, I'm manipulating her. Shaping her
world so she makes certain choices and takes certain actions that make
other people do what I want
them
to do and . . .
    And what? What's the
other choice? To passively let things happen and then say, "Tut-tut,
what a botch
that
was"? Don't we all manipulate
people? Even if we openly ask them to make a choice, don't we try to
frame it so they'll choose as we think they should?
    If I tell her what I'm
up to, she'll probably go along with me. Do it voluntarily.
    But is she a good
enough actor to keep her mother from knowing something's going on?
Forcing it out of her? Alessandra was still so much her mother's
creature that Ender didn't believe she could keep a secret from her
mother, not for long. And if she does give away the game, then it will
cost Alessandra nothing—she'll be right where she already
is—while I will lose everything. Don't I have a right to
count myself in the balance here, my own happiness, my own future? And
on the off chance that I'd be a better governor than Admiral Morgan,
don't I owe it to the colonists to make sure things work out to put me
in as governor, rather than him?
    It's still war, even if
there are no weapons but smiles and words. I have to take the forces I
have, the advantages of the terrain, and try to face a more powerful
enemy under circumstances that neutralize his advantages. Alessandra is
a person, yes—so is every soldier, every pawn in the great
game. I was used to win a war. Now I'll use someone else. All for the
"good of the whole."
    But underneath all his
moral reasoning, there was something else. He could feel it. An itch, a
hunger, a yearning. It was his inner chimp, as he and Valentine called
it. The animal that smelled womanhood on Alessandra. Did
I choose this plan, these tools, because they were best? Or because
they would put me near a girl who
is
pretty, who
desires my affection?
    So maybe Valentine was
completely right.
    But if she was . . .
what then? I can't undo all the attention I've paid to Alessandra. Do I
suddenly turn cold to her, for no reason at all? Is that any less
manipulative?
    Sometimes can't I
switch off my brain and be the hairless chimp with an eye for an
available female?
    No.

    "How long are you going
to play this little game with Ender Wiggin?" asked Dorabella.
    "Game?" asked
Alessandra.
    "He's obviously
interested in you," said Dorabella. "He always homes in on you, I've
seen how he smiles at you. He likes you."
    "Like a sister," sighed
Alessandra.
    "He's shy," said
Dorabella.
    Alessandra sighed.
    "Don't sigh at me,"
said Dorabella.
    "Oh, when I'm around
you, I'm not allowed to exhale?"
    "Don't make me pinch
your nose and stuff cookies in your mouth."
    "Mother, I can't
control what he does."
    "But you can control
what you do."
    "Ender isn't Admiral
Morgan."
    "No, he isn't. He's a
boy. With no experience at all. A boy who can be led and helped and
shown."
    "Shown what, Mother?
Are you suggesting that I do something
physical
?"
    "Darling sweet fairy
daughter of mine," said Dorabella, "it's not for
you
and it's not for
me.
It's for Ender Wiggin's own
good."
    Alessandra rolled her
eyes. She was such a teenager.
    "Eye-rolling is not an
answer, darling sweet fairy daughter."
    "Mother, people who are
doing the most awful things always say it's for the other person's