Ender's Shadow

of course, that being the language of the street, but since many of the children had also learned Dutch and some were even native Dutch speakers, she would often explain hard points in that language. When she was frustrated though, and muttered under her breath, that was in Spanish, the language of the merchants of Jonker Frans Straat, and he tried to piece together the meanings of new words from her muttering. Her knowledge was a banquet, and if he remained quiet enough, he would be able to stay and feast.
      School had only been going for a week, however, when he made a mistake. She passed out papers to them, and they had writing on them. Bean read his paper at once. It was a "Pre-Test" and the instructions said to circle the right answers to each question. So he began circling answers and was halfway down the page when he realized that the entire group had fallen silent.
      They were all looking at him, because Sister Carlotta was looking at him.
      "What are you doing, Bean?" she asked. "I haven't even told you what to do yet. Please give me your paper.”
      Stupid, inattentive, careless -- if you die for this, Bean, you deserve it.
      He handed her the paper.
      She looked at it, then looked back at him very closely. "Finish it," she said.
      He took the paper back from her hand. His pencil hovered over the page. He pretended to be struggling with the answer.
      "You did the first fifteen in about a minute and a half," said Sister Carlotta. "Please don't expect me to believe that you're suddenly having a hard time with the next question." Her voice was dry and sarcastic.
      "I can't do it," he said. "I was just playing anyway.”
      "Don't lie to me," said Carlotta. "Do the rest.”
      He gave up and did them all. It didn't take long. They were easy. He handed her the paper.
      She glanced over it and said nothing. "I hope the rest of you will wait until I finish the instructions and read you the questions. If you try to guess at what the hard words are, you'll get all the answers wrong.”
      Then she proceeded to read each question and all the possible answers out loud. Only then could the other children set their marks on the papers.
      Sister Carlotta didn't say another thing to call attention to Bean after that, but the damage was done. As soon as school was over, Sergeant came over to Bean. "So you can read," he said.
      Bean shrugged.
      "You been lying to us," said Sergeant.
      "Never said I couldn't.”
      "Showed us all up. How come you didn't teach us?”
      Because I was trying to survive, Bean said silently. Because I didn't want to remind Achilles that I was the smart one who thought up the original plan that got him this family. If he remembers that, he'll also remember who it was who told Poke to kill him.
      The only answer he actually gave was a shrug.
      "Don't like it when somebody holds out on us.”
      Sergeant nudged him with a foot.
      Bean did not have to be given a map. He got up and jogged away from the group. School was out for him. Maybe breakfast, too. He'd have to wait till morning to find that out.
      He spent the afternoon alone on the streets. He had to be careful. As the smallest and least important of Achilles' family, he might be overlooked. But it was more likely that those who hated Achilles would have taken special notice of Bean as one of the most memorable. They might take it into their heads that killing Bean or beating him to paste and leaving him would make a dandy warning to Achilles that he was still resented, even though life was better for everybody.
      Bean knew there were plenty of bullies who felt that way. Especially the ones who weren't able to maintain a family, because they kept being too mean with the little children. The little ones learned quickly that when a papa got too nasty, they could punish him by leaving him alone at breakfast and attaching themselves to some other family. They would eat before him. They would have someone else's protection from him. He would eat last. If they ran out of food, he would get nothing, and Helga wouldn't even mind, because he wasn't a papa, he wasn't watching out for little ones. So those bullies, those marginal ones, they hated the way things worked these days, and they didn't forget that it was Achilles who had changed it all. Nor could they go to some other kitchen -- the word had spread among the adults who gave out food, and now all the kitchens had a rule that groups with little