Xenocide (Ender Wiggins Saga)

Fantasy Game. It was like having a total stranger come up to you and tell you your dream from the night before. They had been inside his head. It made him afraid, but it also excited him. For the first time in his life, he felt known . Not known of -- he was famous throughout humanity, and in those days his fame was all positive, the greatest hero of all time. Other people knew of him. But with this bugger artifact, he discovered for the first time that he was known .
    
    "How did you find me, then?"
    
    "I wasn't searching for you. I was studying you." Watching every vid they had at the Battle School, trying to understand the way the bugger mind worked. "I was imagining you."
    
    "And that was all?"
    
    He was having trouble making sense of what they were saying. What kind of network was he connected to?
    
    "I wasn't connected . They were my soldiers, that's all."
    
    "But humans are individuals, not like your workers."
    
    Not helpful at all. Nothing to do with faster-than-light flight. It all sounded like mumbo-jumbo, not like science at all. Nothing that Grego could express mathematically.
    
    Ender didn't understand how establishing an ansible link with his brain could be like hatching out a new queen. "Explain it to me."
    
    "But what are you doing when you do it?"
    
    "And what do you always do?"
    
    "Then remember what you do, and show it to me."
    
    It was true. She had tried only a couple of times, when he was very young and had first discovered her cocoon. He simply couldn't cope with it, couldn't make sense of it. Flashes, a few glimpses were clear, but it was so disorienting that he panicked, and probably fainted, though he was alone and couldn't be sure what had happened, clinically speaking.
    "If you can't tell me, we have to do something ."
    
    "No. I'll tell you to stop. It didn't kill me before."
    
    "Try, yes."
    She gave him no time to reflect or prepare. At once he felt himself seeing out of compound eyes, not many lenses with the same vision, but each lens with its own picture. It gave him the same vertiginous feeling as so many years before. But this time he understood a little better-- in part because she was making it less intense than before, and in part because he knew something about the Hive Queen now, about what she was doing to him.
    The many different visions were what each of