Shadow of the giant

Peter until noon, when she and
John Paul and their illustrious son sat down to a lunch of papaya and cheese
and sliced sausage.
    "Why do you always drink that stuff?" asked John
Paul.
    Peter looked surprised. "Guaraná? It's my duty as an
American to never drink Coke or Pepsi in a country that has an indigenous soft
drink. Besides which, I like it."
    "It's a stimulant," said Theresa. "It fuzzes
your brain."
    "It also makes you fart," said John Paul.
"Constantly."
    "Frequently would be the more accurate term," said
Peter. "And it's sweet of you to care."
    "We're just looking out for your image," said
Theresa.
    "I only fart when I'm alone."
    "Since he does it in front of us," said John Paul
to Theresa, "what exactly does that make us?"
    "I meant 'in private,' " said Peter. "And
flatulence from carbonated beverages is odorless."
    "He thinks it doesn't stink," said John Paul.
    Peter picked up the glass and drained it. "And you
wonder why I don't look forward to these little family get-togethers."
    "Yes," said Theresa. "Family is so
inconvenient for you. Except when you can spend their pension checks."
    Peter looked back and forth between her and John Paul.
"You aren't even on a pension. Either of you. You're not even fifty
yet."
    Theresa just looked at him like he was stupid. She knew that
look drove him crazy.
    But Peter refused to bite. He simply went back to eating his
lunch.
    His very incuriosity was proof enough to Theresa that he
knew exactly what she was talking about.
    "You mind telling me what this is about?" asked
John Paul.
    "Why, Andrew's pension," said Theresa. "Bean
thinks that Peter's been stealing it."
    "So naturally," said Peter with his mouth full,
"Mother believes him."
    "Oh, haven't you, then?" asked Theresa.
    "There's a difference between investing and
stealing."
    "Not when you invest it in Hegemony bonds. Especially
when a circle of huts in Amazonas has a higher bond rating than you."
    "Investing in the future of world peace is a sound
investment."
    "Investing in your future," said Theresa.
"Which is more than you did for Andrew. But now that Bean knows, you can
be sure that source of funding will dry up very quickly."
    "How sad for Bean," said Peter. "Since that
was what was paying for his and Petra's search."
    "It wasn't until you decided it was," said John
Paul. "Are you really that petty?"
    "If Bean decides unilaterally to cut off a funding
source, then I have to reduce spending somewhere. Since spending on his
personal quest has nothing to do with Hegemony goals, it seems only fair that
the meddler's pet project be the first to go. It's all moot anyway. Bean has no
claim on Ender's pension. He can't touch it."
    "He's not going to touch it himself," said
Theresa. "He doesn't want the money."
    "So he'll turn it over to you? What will you do, keep
it in an interest-bearing debit account, the way you do with your own
money?" Peter laughed.
    "He seems unrepentant," said John Paul.
    "That's the problem with Peter," said Theresa.
    "Only the one?" said Peter.
    "Either it doesn't matter or it's the end of the world.
No in between for him. Absolute confidence or utter despair."
    "I haven't despaired in years. Well, weeks."
    "Just tell me, Peter," said Theresa. "Is
there no one you won't exploit to accomplish your purposes?"
    "Since my purpose is saving the human race from
itself," said Peter, "the answer is no." He wiped his mouth and
dropped his napkin on his plate. "Thanks for the lovely lunch. I do enjoy
our little times together."
    He left.
    John Paul leaned back in his chair. "Well. I think I'll
tell Bean that if he needs any next-of-kin signatures for whatever he's doing
with Andrew's pension, I'll be happy to help."
    "If I know Julian Delphiki, no help will be
needed."
    "Bean saved Peter's whole enterprise by killing
Achilles at great personal risk, and our son's memory is so short that he'll
stop paying for the effort to rescue Bean's and Petra's children. What gene is
it that Peter's missing?"
    "Gratitude has a very short half-life in most people's
hearts," said Theresa. "By now Peter doesn't even remember that he
ever felt it toward Bean."
    "Anything we can do about it?"
    "Again, my dear, I think we can count on Bean himself.
He'll expect retaliation from Peter, and he'll already have a plan."
    "I hope his plan doesn't require appealing to Peter's
conscience."
    Theresa laughed. So did John Paul. It was the saddest kind
of laughter, in that empty room.
     
     
     
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