Shadow of the giant

brother."
    "I doubt Peter would call it embezzling."
    "What would he call it, then?"
    "In Peter's mind, Ender's probably buying government
bonds issued by the Hegemony. So when the Hegemon rules the world, Ender will
get four percent per year, tax free."
    "Even I know that would be a lousy investment."
    "From a financial point of view. Mrs. Wiggin, Peter has
the use of more money than the scant dues the few dues-paying nations still pay
to the Hegemony."
    "The dues go up and down," said Theresa.
    "He tells you?"
    "John Paul is closer to these things. When the world is
worried about war, money flows into the Hegemony. Not a lot, just a little
extra."
    "When I first got here there were Peter, you two, and
the soldiers I brought with me. A couple of secretaries. And a lot of debt. Yet
Peter always had enough money to send us out in the choppers we brought with
us. Money for fuel, money for ammunition."
    "Bean, what will be gained if you accuse Peter of
embezzling Ender's pension? You know Peter isn't making himself rich with
it."
    "No, but he is making himself Hegemon. Ender might need
that money someday."
    "Ender will never come back to Earth, Bean. How
valuable will money be on the new world he's going to colonize? What harm is it
causing?"
    "So you're all right with Peter cheating his
brother."
    "If he's doing that. Which I doubt." Theresa's
smile was tight and her eyes flashed just a little. Mother bear, guarding cub.
    "Protect the son who's here, even if he's cheating the
son who's gone."
    "Why don't you go back to your place and take care of
your own child instead of meddling with mine?"
    "And the pioneers circle the wagons to protect from the
arrows of the Native Americans."
    "I like you, Bean. I'm also worried about you. I'll
miss you when you die. I'll do my best to help Petra get through the hard times
ahead. But keep your hippo-sized hands off my son. He has the weight of the
world on his shoulders, in case you didn't notice."
    "I think maybe I won't have that interview with Peter
this morning after all."
    "Delighted to be of service," said Theresa.
    "Do avoid telling him I stopped by, will you?"
    "With pleasure. In fact, I've already forgotten that
you're here." She turned back to the computer and typed again. Bean rather
hoped she was typing meaningless words and strings of letters because she was
too angry to be writing anything intelligible. He even thought of peeking, just
to see. But Theresa was a good friend who happened to be protective of her son.
No reason to turn her into an enemy.
    He sauntered away, his long legs carrying him much farther,
much faster than a man walking so slowly should have gone. And even though he
wasn't moving quickly, he still felt his heart pump faster. Just to walk down a
corridor, it's as if he were jogging a little.
    How much time? Not as much as I had yesterday.
     
     
    Theresa watched him go and thought: I love that boy for
being so loyal to Ender. And he's absolutely right to suspect Peter. It's just
the sort of thing he'd do. For all I know, Peter got us back onto full salary
at the University, too, only he didn't tell us and he's cashing our checks.
    Then again, maybe he's secretly getting paid by China or
America or some other country that values his services as Hegemon.
    Unless they value his services as Lincoln. Or... as Martel.
If he was really writing the Martel essays. Such a thing smacked of Peter's
propaganda methods, but the writing sounded nothing like him, and it could
hardly be Valentine this time. Had he found another surrogate writer?
    Maybe somebody was contributing in a big way to
"Martel's" cause and Peter was pocketing the money to advance his
own.
    But no. Word of such contributions would get out. Peter
would never be so foolish as to accept money that might compromise him if it
were found out.
    I'll check with Graff, see whether the I.F. is paying out
the pension to Peter. And if it is, I'll have to kill the boy. Or at least make
my disappointed-in-you face and then curse about him to John Paul when we're
alone.
     
     
    Bean told Petra he was going to train with Suri and the
boys. And he did—go where they were training, that is. But he spent his time in
one of the choppers, making a scrambled and encrypted call to the old Battle
School space station, where Graff was assembling his fleet of colony ships.
    "Going to come visit me?" said Graff. "Want
to take a trip into space?"
    "Not yet," said Bean. "Not till I've found my
lost kids."
    "So you