Shadow of the giant

cause of another."
    "The military geniuses you had identified would now
tear the world apart with their ambition."
    "Or be used as pawns to satisfy the ambitions of
others, yes."
    "So you decided to use them as pawns in your own game
once again."
    "No," said Rackham softly. "We decided to
find a way to set most of them free to live human lives. We're still working on
that."
    "Most of us?"
    "There was nothing we could do for Bean," said
Rackham.
    "I guess not," said Petra.
    "But then something happened that we hadn't planned
on," said Rackham. "Hadn't hoped for. He found love. He became a
father. The one we could do nothing for, you made him happy. So, I have to
admit, we feel a lot of gratitude to you, Petra. You could have been out there
playing the game with the others." He chuckled. "We would never have
guessed it. You're off the charts when it comes to ambition. Not quite like
Peter, but close. Yet somehow you set it all aside."
    She smiled as beatifically as she could.
    If only you knew the truth, she thought.
    Or maybe he does know, but telling her that he admires her
is a way of manipulating her...
    Nobody ever completely means what they say. Even when they
think they're telling the truth, there's always something hidden behind their
words.
    It was dark when she got back to her own house in the
military headquarters compound just outside Kigali. Mazer Rackham did not come
inside with her. So she carried both babies, Ender in the sling again, and
Bella at her shoulder.
    Bean was there, waiting for her. He ran to her and took the
new baby from her and pressed his cheek to the baby's cheek.
    "Don't smother her, oaf," said Petra.
    He laughed and kissed her. They sat together on the edge of
the bed, holding the two children, and then trading, back and forth.
    "Seven to go," said Petra.
    "Was it hard?" asked Bean.
    "I'm glad you weren't there," said Petra.
"I'm not sure you would have been tough enough to go through with
it."
     
     
     
    14
     
    VIRLOMI'S VISITORS
     
     
    From: lmperialSelf%[email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Re: We have found Paribatra
     
    Suriyawong, I am relieved to tell you that Paribatra, the
former prime minister of Thailand, has been located. His health is not good but
with proper attention it is believed that he will recover as well as can be
expected for a man his age.
     
    The former government had nearly perfected the art of making
people disappear without actually killing them, but we are still tracking down
other Thai exiles. I have great hopes of finding and releasing your family
members.
     
    You know that I opposed all these illegal actions against
Thailand, its citizens, and its government. I have now moved at the first
opportunity to undo as much of the damage as I can.
     
    For internal political reasons I cannot release Paribatra
directly to Ambul's Free Thai organization at this time, even though I fully
expect that his group will be the core of the new government of Thailand and
look forward to an early reconciliation.
     
    As we free Paribatra into the care of the Hegemon, it seems
appropriate that you who tried so hard to save Thailand should be the one to
receive him.
     
     
    Virlomi came to Hyderabad, and in front of the gate of the
military complex where she once worked in virtual captivity, drawing up plans
for wars and invasions she did not believe in, she now built a hut with her own
hands.
    Each day she went to a well and drew water, even though
there were few villages in India that did not already have clean running water.
Each dawn she buried her night soil even though most villages had working sewer
systems.
    Indians came to her by the hundreds, to ask her questions.
When she was tired, she came out and wept for them and begged them to go home.
They went, but the next morning others came.
    No soldiers came near her, so there was no overt provocation
to the Muslims inside the military compound. Of course, she was controlling the
Indian military, which grew in strength every day, through her encrypted
cellphones, which were swapped out daily for freshly charged ones by aides
posing as ordinary supplicants.
    Now and then someone from another land would come to see
her. Her aides would whisper to them that she would not speak to anyone who was
not barefoot, and if they wore western business suits she would offer them
appropriate clothing, which they would not like, so it was better to be clad
already in Indian clothing of their own