most.'
'Which is you.'
'Which is definitely not me.' Ender sat beside her on her bed, leaned close to her. 'You will help me most by scrutinizing someone else.'
'I scrutinize everybody,' said Val. 'I judge everybody. But you're my brother. I get to boss you around.'
'And you're my sister. I have to tickle you until you pee or cry. Or both.' Which he proceeded to attempt, though he didn't really go quite that far. Or at least, she only peed a little. And then punched him hard in the arm and made him say, 'Ow,' in a really snotty, sarcastic way, so she knew he was pretending it didn't hurt, but it really did. Which he deserved. He really was being rotten to Alessandra, and he didn't even care, and worse yet, he thought he could deny it. Just pitiful.
All that afternoon, Ender thought about what Valentine said. He knew what he was planning, and it really was for Alessandra's good, but he had miscalculated if the girl was actually falling in love with him. It was supposed to be friendship, trust, gratitude maybe. Brother-and-sister. Only Alessandra wasn't Valentine. She couldn't keep up. She didn't leap to conclusions as quickly as Val — or at least not to the same conclusions. She couldn't really hold up her end.
Where am I going to find anyone I can marry? Ender wondered. Nowhere and never, if I compare them all to Valentine.
All right, yes, I knew I was causing Alessandra to have feelings. I like it when she looks at me like that. Petra never looked at me that way. Nobody did. It feels good. The hormones wake up and get excited. It's fun. I'm fifteen. I haven't said anything to mislead her about my intentions, and I haven't done anything, not ever, to signal any kind of physical attraction. So shoot me for liking that she likes me and doing the things that make her feel that way. What's the rule here? Either totally ignore her and grind her face in her nothingness, or marry her on the spot? Are those the only choices?
But gnawing at the back of his mind was this question: Am I Peter? Am I using other people for whatever plan I have? Does it make a difference that my intention is to have a result that will give her a chance at happiness? I'm not asking her, I'm not giving her a choice, I'm manipulating her. Shaping her world so she makes certain choices and takes certain actions that make other people do what I want them to do and.
And what? What's the other choice? To passively let things happen and then say, 'Tut-tut, what a botch that was'? Don't we all manipulate people? Even if we openly ask them to make a choice, don't we try to frame it so they'll choose as we think they should?
If I tell her what I'm up to, she'll probably go along with me. Do it voluntarily.
But is she a good enough actor to keep her mother from knowing something's going on? Forcing it out of her? Alessandra was still so much her mother's creature that Ender didn't believe she could keep a secret from her mother, not for long. And if she does give away the game, then it will cost Alessandra nothing — she'll be right where she already is — while I will lose everything. Don't I have a right to count myself in the balance here, my own happiness, my own future? And on the off chance that I'd be a better governor than Admiral Morgan, don't I owe it to the colonists to make sure things work out to put me in as governor, rather than him?
It's still war, even if there are no weapons but smiles and words. I have to take the forces I have, the advantages of the terrain, and try to face a more powerful enemy under circumstances that neutralize his advantages. Alessandra is a person, yes — so is every soldier, every pawn in the great game. I was used to win a war. Now I'll use someone else. All for the 'good of the whole.'
But underneath all his moral reasoning, there was something else. He could feel it. An itch, a hunger, a yearning. It was his inner chimp, as he and Valentine called it. The animal that smelled womanhood on Alessandra. Did I choose this plan, these tools, because they were best? Or because they would put me near a girl who is pretty, who desires my affection?
So maybe Valentine was completely right.
But if she was. what then? I can't undo all the attention I've paid to Alessandra. Do I suddenly turn cold to her, for no reason at all? Is that any less manipulative?
Sometimes can't I switch off my brain and be the hairless chimp with an eye for an available female?
No.
'How long are you going to play this little game with Ender Wiggin?' asked Dorabella.
'Game?' asked Alessandra.
'He's obviously interested in you,' said Dorabella. 'He always homes in on you, I've seen how he smiles at you. He likes you.'
'Like a sister,' sighed Alessandra.
'He's shy,' said Dorabella.
Alessandra sighed.
'Don't sigh at me,' said Dorabella.
'Oh, when I'm around you, I'm not allowed to exhale?'
'Don't make me pinch your nose and stuff cookies in your mouth.'
'Mother, I can't control what he does.'
'But you can control what you do.'
'Ender isn't Admiral Morgan.'
'No, he isn't. He's a boy. With no experience at all. A boy who can be led and helped and shown.'
'Shown what, Mother? Are you suggesting that I do something physical?'
'Darling sweet fairy daughter of mine,' said Dorabella, 'it's not for you and it's not for me. It's for Ender Wiggin's own good.'
Alessandra rolled her eyes. She was such a teenager.
'Eye-rolling is not an answer, darling sweet fairy daughter.'
'Mother, people who are doing the most awful things always say it's for the other person's own good.'
'But in this case, I'm quite right. You see, Admiral Morgan and I have become very close. Very very close.'
'Are you sleeping with him?'
Dorabella's hand flew up, prepared to strike, before she even knew what she was doing. But she caught herself in time. 'Oh, look,' she said. 'My hand thinks it belongs to your grandmother.'
Alessandra's voice shook a little. 'When you said you were very very close I wondered if you were implying —»
'Quincy Morgan and I have an adult relationship,' said Dorabella. 'We understand each other. I bring a brightness to his life that he has never had before, and he brings a manly stability that your father, bless his heart, never had. There is also physical attraction, but we are mature adults, masters of our libido, and no, I haven't let him lay a hand on me.'
'Then what are we talking about here?' asked Alessandra.
'What I did not know, as a girl your age,' said Dorabella, 'was that between cold chastity and doing that which produces babies, there is a wide range of steps and stages that can signal to a young man that his advances are welcome, to a point.'
'I'm quite aware of that, Mother. I saw other girls at school dressing like whores and putting it all on display. I saw the fondling and grabbing and pinching. We're Italians, I was in an Italian school, and all the boys planned to grow up to be Italian men.'
'Don't try to distract me by making me angry at your ethnic stereotypes,' said Dorabella. 'We have only a few weeks left before we arrive —»
'Two months is not 'a few weeks.»
'Eight is a few. When we reach Shakespeare, one thing is certain. Admiral Morgan is not going to turn the colony over to a fifteen-year-old boy. That would be irresponsible. He likes Ender — everyone does — but in Battle School all they did was play games all day. It takes someone with experience in leadership to govern a colony. This has never been said outright, mind you. But I have gleaned this from things that were hinted at or almost said or. overheard.'
'You've been eavesdropping.'
