Shadow of the giant

us, Mummy."
    Rackham leaned forward. "Bean, we make our plans, but
we know we might fail. Ultimately, it all comes down to this. We've seen human
beings at their best, and we think our species is worth saving."
    "Even if you have to have the help of non-humans like
me."
    "Bean, when I spoke of human beings at their best, whom
do you think I was talking about?"
    "Ender Wiggin," said Bean.
    "And Julian Delphiki," said Rackham. "The
other little boy we trusted to save the world."
    Bean shook his head and stood up. "Not so little
now," said Bean. "And dying. But I'll take your offer because it
gives me a hope for my little family. And apart from that, I have no hope at
all. Tell me where Volescu is, and I'll go see him."
    "You'll have to secure him yourself," said
Rackham. "We can't have I.F. agents involved."
    "Give me the address and I'll do the rest."
    Bean ducked again to leave the room. And he was trembling as
he walked through the park, back toward his office in the Hegemony compound.
Huge armies prepared to clash, in a struggle for supremacy. And off to one
side, not even on the surface of Earth, there were a handful of men who
intended to turn those armies to their own purposes.
    They were Archimedes, preparing to move the Earth because
they finally had a lever big enough.
    I'm the lever.
    And I'm not as big us they think I am. Not as big as I seem.
It can't be done.
    Yet it might just be worth doing.
    So I'll let them use me to try to pry the world of men loose
from its age-old path of competition and war.
    And I'll use them to try to save my life and the lives of my
children who share my disease.
    And the chance of both projects succeeding is so slim that
the odds are much better of the Earth being hit by a disastrously huge meteor
first.
    Then again, they probably already have a plan to deal with a
meteor strike. They probably have a plan for everything. Even a plan they can
turn to if ... when ... I fail.
     
     
     
    5
     
    SHIVA
     
     
    From: Figurehead%[email protected]
    To: PeterWiggin%[email protected]
    Password: ********
    Re: Speaking as a mother
     
     
    After all these years of posing as the Madonna in your
little Pieta, it occurs to me that I might whisper something in your oh-so busy
ear:
     
    Ever since Achilles's little kidnapping venture, the
not-so-secret weapon in everyone's arsenal is whatever array of Battle School
graduates they're able to acquire, keep, and deploy. Now it's even worse. Alai
is Caliph in fact as well as name. Han Tzu is emperor of China. Virlomi is ... what,
a goddess? That's what I hear, coming out of India.
     
    Now they will go to war against each other.
     
    What are YOU doing? Betting on the winner and choosing up
sides?
     
    Quite apart from the fact that many of these children were
Ender's friends and fellow soldiers, the whole human race owes them our very
survival. We took away their childhood. When do they get a life they can call
their own?
     
    Peter, I've read history. Men like Genghis and Alexander
were deprived of a normal childhood and absolutely focused on war and you know
what? It deformed them. They were unhappy all the days of their lives.
Alexander didn't know who he was when he stopped conquering people. If he
stopped moving forward, slaughtering all the way, he died.
     
    So how about setting these children free? Have you given any
thought to that? Talk to Graff. He'll listen to you. Give these children an
out. A chance. A life.
     
    If for no other reason than because they're Andrew's
friends. They're like Andrew. They didn't choose themselves for Battle School.
     
    You, on the other hand, didn't go to Battle School. You
volunteered to save the world. So you have to stay and see it through.
     
    Your loving and ever-supportive mother
     
     
    A woman's face appeared on the screen. She was dressed in
the simple work-stained clothing of a Hindu peasant woman. But she bore herself
like a lady of the highest caste—a concept that still had meaning, despite the
long-ago banning of all outward markers of caste.
    Peter did not know her. But Petra did. "It's
Virlomi."
    "All this time," said Bean, "she hasn't shown
her face. Till now."
    "I wonder," said Petra, "how many thousands
of people in India already know her face."
    "Let's listen," said Peter. He moused the PLAY
button.
    "No one is faithful to God who has no choice. That is
why Hindus are truly faithful, for they may choose not to be Hindus and no harm
comes to them.
    "And that is why there are no