Shadow Puppets (Ender, Book 7) (Shadow Saga)

know."
    "But you are smarter than Achilles. And luckier. And taller. And nicer."
    "The new improved human."
    She looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, now that you're tall, we could probably travel as man and wife."
    Bean sighed. "I'm not going to marry you."
    "Just as camouflage."
    It had begun as hints but now it was quite open, her desire to marry him. "I'm not going to have children," he said. "My species ends with me."
    "I think that's pretty selfish of you. What if the first homo sapiens had felt that way? We'd all still be neanderthals, and when the Buggers came they would have blasted us all to bits and that would be that."
    "We didn't evolve from neanderthals," said Bean.
    "Well, it's a good thing we have that little fact squared away," said Petra.
    "And I didn't evolve at all. I was manufactured. Genetically created."
    "Still in the image of God," said Petra.
    "Sister Carlotta could say those things, but it's not funny coming from you."
    "Yes it is," said Petra.
    "Not to me."
    "I don't think I want to have your babies, if they might inherit your sense of humor."
    "That's a relief." Only it wasn't. Because he was attracted to her and she knew it. More than that. He truly cared about her, liked being with her. She was his friend. If he weren't going to die, if he wanted to have a family, if he had any interest in marrying, she was the only female human that he would even consider. But that was the trouble -- she was human, and he was not.
    After a few moments of silence, she leaned her head on his shoulder and held his hand. "Thank you," she murmured.
    "For what I don't know."
    "For letting me save your life."
    "When did that happen?" asked Bean.
    "As long as you have to look out for me," said Petra, "you won't die."
    "So you're coming along with me, increasing our risk of being identified and allowing Achilles to get his two worst nemeses with one well-placed bomb, in order to save my life?"
    "That's right, genius boy," said Petra.
    "I don't even like you, you know." At this moment, he was annoyed enough that the statement was almost true.
    "As long as you love me, I don't mind."
    And he suspected that her lie, too, was almost true.
    CHAPTER TWO
    SURIYAWONG'S KNIFE
    From: Salaam%[email protected]
    To: Watcher%[email protected]
    Re: What you asked
    My Dear Mr. Wiggin/Locke,
    Philosophically speaking, all guests in a Muslim home are treated as sacred visitors sent by God and under his care. In practice, for two extremely talented, famous, and unpredictable persons who are hated by one powerful non-Muslim figure and aided by another, this is a very dangerous part of the world, particularly if they seek to remain both hidden and free. I do not believe they will be foolish enough to seek refuge in a Muslim country.
    I regret to tell you, however, that your interest and mine do not coincide on this matter, so despite our occasional cooperation in the past, I most certainly will not tell you whether I encounter them or hear news of them.
    Your accomplishments are many, and I have helped you in the past and will in the future. But when Ender led us in fighting the formics these friends were beside me. Where were you?
    Respectfully yours,
    Alai
    Suriyawong opened his orders and was not surprised. He had led missions inside China before, but always for the purpose of sabotage or intelligence gathering, or "involuntary high officer force reduction," Peter's mostly-ironic euphemism for assassination. The fact that this assignment had been to capture rather than kill suggested that it was a person who was not Chinese. Suriyawong had rather hoped it might be one of the leaders of a conquered country -- the deposed prime minister of India, for instance, or the captive prime minister of Suriyawong's native Thailand.
    He had even entertained, briefly, the thought that it might be one of his own family.
    But it made sense that Peter was taking this risk, not for someone of mere political or symbolic value, but for the enemy who had put the world into this strange and desperate situation.
    Achilles. Erstwhile gimp-legged cripple, frequent murderer, fulltime psychotic, and warmonger extraordinaire, Achilles had a knack for finding out just what the leaders of nations aspired for and promising them a way to get it. So far he had convinced a faction in the Russian government, the heads of the Indian and Pakistani governments, and various leaders in other lands to do his bidding. When Russia found him a liability, he