served as a pilot during the battle within the system where now you are a colonist, it is quite possible that you heard my voice; certainly you heard the voice of at least one of my fellow commanders. I grieve for those pilots whom we lost during that action; we may not have known that our mistakes would cost real lives, but that does not remove our responsibility. I realize that for you, more than forty years have passed; for me, that battle was only three years ago, and has never been far from my thoughts. I am about to face the soldiers who actually fought that battle, and who remember those whose lives were lost because of my mistakes.
I look forward to meeting the children and grandchildren who have been born to your compatriots. They, of course, will have no memory of battles that to them are ancient history. They will have no idea who I am, or why they would be insulted by having a fifteen-year-old boy placed over them as governor.
Fortunately, I have with me the very experienced Admiral Quincy Morgan, who has kindly offered to extend his leadership over the colony as well as the ship, for as long as he remains here. Vitaly and I discussed the nature of leadership and command, and we came to think of Quincy Morgan as a man of peace and authority; you will know better than I what that can mean for the colony.
I am sorry for the burdens that our coming will impose on you, and grateful in advance.
Sincerely,
Andrew
To: GovDes%[email protected]/voy
From: smenach%[email protected]
Subj: Poor scheduling
Dear Ender,
Thank you for your thoughtful letter. I do understand exactly what you meant about Admiral Morgan being a man of peace and authority, and I wish I were equipped to give him the appropriate greeting. But the only soldiers among us are as old as me; our youngsters have had no reason to learn military discipline or skills of any kind. I fear you would find our attempts at maneuvers an embarrassment. Whatever ceremonies are to take place upon your arrival must be planned entirely from your end. Having seen YOUR work, observing it at least as closely as you have observed mine, I have every confidence that you will handle everything with perfect aplomb.
Not since Vitaly died have I had the opportunity to use «aplomb» in a sentence. Perhaps, since you are to be governor (to my great relief), I have simply transferred to you the style of discourse I always used with him.
It is unfortunate that your arrival coincides with an urgent and long-scheduled trip I must take. I am no longer lead xenobiologist, but my duties in that area have not simply disappeared. Now that you are coming, I can at least make that journey into the broad stretch of land to the south of us, which remains almost completely unexplored. We settled in a semitropical climate, so we wouldn't freeze to death if we could not find adequate fuel and shelter when we first arrived. Now you are bringing Earth vegetation which needs cooler climes to thrive, and I must see if there are appropriate environments for them. I also need to see if there are indigenous fruits, vegetables, and grasses that we might be able to make use of, now that you're bringing means of transportation that could make it practical for us to grow crops in one climate and consume them in another.
For reasons that should be obvious to you, I also believe that having an old man underfoot will not be as helpful to you as you imagine. When two men who have been called «governor» are together, people will turn to the one they have more experience with. And the new people, having been in stasis, will probably follow the practice of the old. My absence will be your greatest asset. Ix Tolo, the head xenobiologist, can acquaint you with ongoing projects.
I'm sure you will understand that my taking this journey does not reflect any wish on my part not to meet you or help you. If I thought my presence would be better for the colony than my absence, one of my greatest pleasures would be to shake the hand of the commander who led us to victory. Among the old coots of the colony, you'll find many who are still in awe of you. Please be patient with them if they're a bit tongue-tied.
Sincerely,
Sel
Sel began quietly to prepare for an expedition southward. It would be on foot — there had been no beasts of burden in the original expedition, and he was not going to deprive the colony of any of its vehicles. And even though many of the new edible hybrids had spread widely, he meant to pass out of their optimum climate, which meant he would have to carry his food with him. Fortunately, he didn't eat much, and he would bring along six of the new dogs he had genetically altered to be able to metabolize the local proteins. The dogs would hunt, and then he would harvest two of them — and turn the other four loose, two breeding pairs that could live off the land.
New predators turned loose in the wild — Sel knew exactly how dangerous this could be to the local ecology. But they could not eat all the native species and would not interfere with the vegetation. It would be important during later exploration and colonization to find edible and tamable creatures loose in the wild.
We aren't here to preserve the local ecology like a museum. We're here to colonize, to suit the world for ourselves.
Which is precisely what the formics had started to do to Earth. Only their approach was much more drastic — burn all, and then plant vegetation from the formics' native planet.
Yet for some reason they had not done so here. He had found none of the species the formics had planted on Earth during the Scouring of China nearly a century ago. This was one of the formics' oldest colonies, and its flora and fauna seemed to be too distant, genetically, to have shared common ancestors with the formic varieties. It must have been settled before they developed the formification strategy they had begun to use on Earth.
In all the years till now, Sel had had to devote himself entirely to the genetic research required to keep the colony viable, and then, for the past five years, to governing the colony. Now he could go into unexplored lands and learn what he could.
He could not go any great distance — he supposed a few hundred kilometers would be his limit — for it would do no good to range so far that he could not return and report his findings.
Ix Tolo helped him pack, griping about this and that — his normal behavior. Not taking enough equipment, taking too much, not enough food, too much water, why this, why not that. it was his constant attention to detail that made him effective in his job and Sel bore it with good humor.
And, of course, Ix had a mind of his own.
'You can unpack that other bag,' Sel told him, 'because you're not going with me.'
'Other bag?'
'I'm not an idiot. Half the equipment I decided not to take, you've put into another pack, along with more food and an extra bedroll.'
'I never thought you were an idiot. But I'm not so stupid I'd endanger the colony by sending both our lead xenobiologists on the same journey.'
'So who's the pack for?'
'My son Po.'
'I've always been bothered that you named him for an insanely romantic Chinese poet. Why nobody from Mayan history?'
'All the characters in the Popol Vuh have numbers instead of names. He's a sensible kid. Strong. If he had to, he could carry you back home.'
'I'm not that old and wizened.'
'He could do it,' said Ix. 'But only if you're alive. Otherwise, he'll watch and record the process of decomposition, and then sample the microbes and worms that manage to feed on your old Earthborn corpse.'
'Glad to see you still think like a scientist and not a sentimental fool.'
'Po is good company.'
'And he'll allow me to carry enough equipment for the trip to be useful. While you stay here and play with the new stuff from the colony ship.'
'And train the xenobiologists they've sent along,' said Ix. 'No doubt you've told Wiggin that I'll help him. That will not happen. I'll have plenty of work to do in my own field without babysitting the new governor.'
Sel ignored his kvetching. He knew Ix would help in whatever way Wiggin needed him to. 'And Po's mother is happy about his going with me?'
'No,' said Ix. 'But she knows he'd never speak to her again if she barred him from it. So we have her blessing. More or less.'
