“But that’s simply stupid,” said Petra. “What were they thinking?”

  “It kept me nice and obscure,” said Ambul. “It gave my family the freedom to travel out of the country and take me with them—there are advantages to not being perceived as a valuable national resource.”

  “So you weren’t in Thailand when it fell.”

  “Studying in London,” said Ambul. “Which made it almost convenient to hop over the North Sea and zip over to Warsaw for a clandestine meeting.”

  “Sorry,” said Bean. “I offered to pay your way.”

  “The letter might not have been from you,” said Ambul. “And whoever sent it, if I let them buy my tickets, they’d know which planes I was on.”

  “He sounds as paranoid as we are,” said Petra.

  “Same enemy,” said Ambul. “So, Bean, sir, you sent for me, and here I am. Need a witness for your wedding? Or an adult to sign permission forms for you?”

  “What I need,” said Bean, “is a secure base of operations, independent of any nation or bloc or alliance.”

  “I suggest you find a nice asteroid somewhere,” said Ambul. “The world is pretty well divvied up these days.”

  “I need people I can trust absolutely,” said Bean. “Because at any time we may find ourselves fighting against the Hegemony.”

  Ambul looked at him in surprise. “I thought you were commander of Peter Wiggin’s little army.”

  “I was. Now I don’t even command a decent hand of pinochle,” said Bean.

  “He does have a first-rate executive officer,” said Petra. “Me.”

  “Ah,” said Ambul. “Now I understand why you called on me. You two officers need somebody who’ll salute you.”

  Bean sighed. “I’d appoint you king of Caledonia if I could, but the only position I can actually offer anybody is friend. And I’m a dangerous friend to have, these days.”

  “So the rumors are true,” said Ambul. Petra figured it was about time he put together the information he was gleaning from this conversation. “Achilles is with the Hegemony.”

  “Peter hoisted him out of China, on his way to prison camp,” said Bean.

  “Got to give the Chinese credit, they’re no eemos, they knew when to get rid of him.”

  “Not really,” said Petra. “They were only sending him into internal exile, and in a low-security caravan at that. Practically invited rescue.”

  “And you wouldn’t do it?” asked Ambul. “That’s how you got fired?”

  “No,” said Bean. “Wiggin pulled me off the mission at the last minute. Gave sealed orders to Suriyawong and didn’t tell me what they were till he had already left. Whereupon I resigned and went into hiding.”

  “Taking your girltoy with you,” said Ambul.

  “Actually, Peter sent me along to keep him under very close surveillance,” said Petra.

  “You seem to be the right person for the job,” said Ambul.

  “She’s not that good,” said Bean. “I’ve come close to noticing her several times.”

  “So,” said Ambul. “Suri went ahead and hoisted Achilles out of China.”

  “Of all the missions to execute flawlessly,” said Bean, “Suri had to pick that one.”

  “I, on the other hand,” said Ambul, “was never one to obey an order if I thought it was stupid.”

  “That’s why I want you to join my completely hopeless operation,” said Bean. “If you get killed, I’ll know it’s your own fault, and not because you were obeying my orders.”

  “I’ll need fedda,” said Ambul. “My family isn’t rich. And technically I’m still a kid. Speaking of which, how the hell did you get so much taller than me?”

  “Steroids,” said Bean.

  “And I stretch him on a rack every night,” said Petra.

  “For his own good, I’m sure,” said Ambul.

  “My mother told me,” said Petra, “that Bean is the kind of boy who has to grow on you.”

  Bean playfully covered her mouth. “Pay no attention to the girl, she’s besotted with love.”

  “You two should get married,” said Ambul.

  “When I turn thirty,” said Bean.

  Which, Petra knew, meant never.

  They had already been out in the open longer than Bean had ever allowed since they’d gone into hiding. As Bean started telling Ambul what he wanted him to do, they began to walk toward the nearest exit from the park.

  It was a simple enough assignment—go to Damascus, the headquarters of the Muslim League, and get a meeting with Alai, one of Ender’s closest friends and a member of Ender’s jeesh.

  “Oh,” said Ambul. “I thought you wanted me to do something possible.”

  “I can’t get any email to him,” said Bean.

  “Because as far as I know he’s been completely incommunicado ever since the Russians released him, that time when Achilles kidnapped everybody,” said Ambul.

  Bean seemed surprised. “You know this because…”

  “Since my parents took me into hiding,” said Ambul, “I’ve been tapping every connection I could get, trying to get information about what was happening. I’m good at networking, aboon. Making and keeping friends. I would have been a good commander, if they hadn’t canceled Battle School out from under me.”

  “So you already know Alai?” said Petra. “Toguro.”

  “But like I said,” Ambul repeated, “he’s completely incommunicado.”

  “Ambul, I need his help,” said Bean. “I need the shelter of the Muslim League. It’s one of the few places on Earth that isn’t susceptible to either Chinese pressure or Hegemony wheedling.”

  “É,” said Ambul, “and they achieve that by not letting any non-Muslims within the circle.”

  “I don’t want to be in the circle. I don’t want to know their secrets.”

  “Yes you do,” said Ambul. “Because if you aren’t, if you don’t have their complete trust, you’ll have no power to do anything at all within their borders. Non-Muslims are officially completely free, but in practical terms, they can’t do anything but shop and play tourist.”

  “Then I’ll convert,” said Bean.

  “Don’t even joke about it,” said Ambul. “They take their religion very seriously, and to speak of converting as a joke—”

  “Ambul, we know that,” said Petra. “I’m a friend of Alai’s, too, but you notice Bean didn’t send me.”

  Ambul laughed. “You can’t mean that the Muslims would lose respect for Alai if he let a woman influence him! The full equality of the sexes is one of the six points that ended the Third Great Jihad.”

  “You mean the Fifth World War?” asked Bean.

  “The War for Universal Liberty,” said Petra. “That’s what they called it in Armenian schools.”

  “That’s because Armenia is bigoted against Muslims,” said Ambul.

  “The only nation of bigots left on Earth,” said Petra ruefully.

  “Listen, Ambul, if it’s impossible to get to Alai,” said Bean, “I’ll just find something else.”

  “I didn’t say it was impossible,” said Ambul.

  “Actually, that’s exactly what you said,” Petra said.

  “But I’m a Battle Schooler,” said Ambul. “We had classes in doing the impossible. I got A’s.”

  Bean grinned. “Yes, but you didn’t graduate from Battle School, did you, so what chance do you have?”

  “Who knew that being assigned to your army in school would ruin my entire life?” said Ambul.

  “Oh, stop whining,” said Petra. “If you’d been a top graduate, now you’d be in a Chinese reeducation camp.”

  “See?” said Ambul. “I’m missing out on all the character-building experiences.”

  Bean handed him a slip of paper. “Go there and you’ll find the identity stuff you need.”

  “Complete with holographic ID?” asked Ambul doubtfully.

  “It’ll adjust to you the first time you use it. Instructions are with it. I’ve used these before.”

  “Who does stuff like that?” asked Ambul. “The Hegemony?”

  “The Vatican,” said Bean. “These are leftovers from my days with one of their operatives.”

  “All right,” said Ambul.

  “It’ll get you to Damascus, but it won’t get you to Alai. You’ll need your real identity for that.”

  “No, I’ll need an angel walking before me and a letter of introduction from Mohammed himself.”

  “The Vatican has those,” said Petra. “But they only give them to their top people.”

  Ambul laughed, and so did Bean, but the air was thick with tension.

  “I’m asking you for a lot,” said Bean.

  “And I don’t owe you much,” said Ambul.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” said Bean, “and if you did, I wouldn’t try to collect it. You know why I asked you, and I know why you’re doing it.”

  Petra knew, too. Bean asked him because he knew Ambul could do it if anyone could. And Ambul was doing it because he knew that if there was to be any hope of stopping Achilles from uniting the world under his rule, it would probably depend on Bean.

  “I’m so glad we came to this park,” said Petra to Bean. “So romantic.”

  “Bean knows how to show a girl a good time,” said Ambul. He spread his arms wide. “Take a good look. I’m it.”

  And then he was gone.

  Petra reached out and took Bean’s hand again.

  “Satisfied?” asked Bean.

  “More or less,” said Petra. “At least you did something.”

  “I’ve been doing something all along.”

  “I know,” said Petra.

  “In fact,” said Bean, “you’re the one who just goes online to shop.”

  She chuckled. “Here we are in this beautiful park. Where they keep alive the memory of a great man. A man who gave unforgettable music to the world. What will your memorial be?”

  “Maybe two statues. Before and after. Little Bean who fought in Ender’s jeesh. Big Julian who brought down Achilles.”

  “I like that,” said Petra. “But I have a better idea.”

  “Name a colony planet after me?”

  “How about this—they have a whole planet populated by your descendants.”

  Bean’s expression soured and he shook his head. “Why? To make war against them? A race of brilliant people who breed as fast as they can because they’re going to die before they’re twenty. And every one of them curses the name of their ancestor because he didn’t end this travesty with his own death.”

  “It’s not a travesty,” said Petra. “And what makes you think your…difference will breed true?”

  “You’re right,” said Bean, “if I marry a long-lived stupid short girl like you, my progeny should average out to a bunch of average minds who live to be seventy and grow to be six feet tall.”

  “Do you want to know what I’ve been doing?” said Petra.

  “Not shopping.”

  “I’ve been talking to Sister Carlotta.”

  He stiffened, looked away from her.

  “I’ve been walking down the paths of her life,” said Petra. “Talking to people she knew. Seeing what she saw. Learning what she learned.”

  “I don’t want to know,” said Bean.

  “Why not? She loved you. Once she found you, she lived for you.”

  “I know that,” said Bean. “And she died for me. Because I was stupid and careless. I didn’t even need her to come, I just thought I did for a little while and by the time I found out I didn’t, she was already in the air, already heading for the missile that killed her.”

  “There’s somewhere I want us to go,” said Petra. “While we’re waiting for Ambul to pull off his miracle.”

  “Listen,” said Bean, “Sister Carlotta already told me how to get in touch with the scientists who were studying me. Every now and then I write to them and they tell me how soon they estimate my death will come and how exciting it is, all the progress they’re making in understanding human development and all kinds of other kuso because of my body and all the little cultures they’ve got, keeping my tissues alive. Petra, when you think about it, I’m immortal. Those tissues will be alive in labs all over the world for a thousand years after I’m dead. That’s one of the benefits of being completely weird.”

  “I’m not talking about them,” said Petra.

  “What, then? Where do you want to go?”

  “Anton,” she said. “The one who found the key, Anton’s Key. The genetic change that resulted in you.”

  “He’s still alive?”

  “He’s not only alive, he’s free. War’s over. Not that he’s able to do serious research now. The psychological blocks aren’t really removable. He has a hard time talking about…well, at least writing about what happened to you.”

  “So why bother him?”

  “Got anything better to do?”

  “I’ve always got something better to do than go to Romania.”

  “But he doesn’t live there,” said Petra. “He’s in Catalunya.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Sister Carlotta’s homeland. The town of Mataró.”

  “Why did he go there?” asked Bean.

  “Excellent weather,” said Petra. “Nights on the rambla. Tapas with friends. The gentle sea lapping the shore. The hot African wind. The breakers of the winter sea. The memory of Columbus coming to visit the king of Aragon.”

  “That was Barcelona.”

  “Well, he talked about seeing the place. And a garden designed by Gaudi. Things he loves to look at. I think he goes from place to place. I think he’s very curious about you.”

  “So is Achilles,” said Bean.

  “I think that even though he’s no longer on the cutting edge of science, there are things he knows that he was never able to tell.”

  “And still can’t.”

  “It hurts him to say it. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t say it, once, to the person who most needs to know.”

  “And that is?”

  “Me,” said Petra.

  Bean laughed. “Not me?”

  “You don’t need to know,” said Petra. “You’ve decided to die. But I need to know, because I want our children to live.”

  “Petra,” said Bean. “I’m not going to have any children. Ever.”

  “Fortunately,” said Petra, “the man never does.”

  She doubted she could ever persuade Bean to change his mind. With luck, though, the uncontrollable desires of the adolescent male might accomplish what reasonable discussion never could. Despite what he thought, Bean was human; and no matter what species he belonged to, he was definitely a mammal. His mind might say no, but his body would shout yes much louder.

  Of course, if there was any adolescent male who could resist his need to mate, it was Bean. It was one of the reasons she loved him, because he was the strongest man she had ever known. With the possible exception of Ender Wiggin, and Ender Wiggin was gone forever.

  She kissed Bean again, and this time they were both somewhat better at it.

  5

  STONES IN THE ROAD

  From: PW

  To: TW

  Re: What are you doing?

  What is this housekeeper thing about? I’m not letting you take a job in the Hegemony, certainly not as a housekeeper. Are you trying to shame me, making it look like (a) I have my mother on the payroll and (b) I have my mother working for me as a menial? You already refused the opportunity I wanted you to take.

  From: TW

  To: PW

  Re: a serpent’s tooth

  You are always so thoughtful, giving me such interesting things to do. Touring the colony worlds. Staring at the walls of my nicely air-conditioned apartment. You do remember that your birth was not parthenogenetic. You are the only person on God’s green earth who thinks I’m too stupid to be anything but a burden around your neck. But please don’t imagine that I’m criticizing you. I am the image of a perfect, doting mother. I know how well that plays on the vids.

  When Virlomi got Suriyawong’s message, she understood at once the danger she was in. But she was almost glad of having a reason to leave the Hegemon’s compound.

  She had been thinking about going for some time, and Suriyawong himself was the reason. His infatuation with her had become too sad for her to stay much longer.

  She liked him, of course, and was grateful to him—he was the one who had truly understood, without being told, how to play the scene so that she could escape from India under the guns of soldiers who would most certainly have shot down the Hegemony helicopters. He was smart and funny and good, and she admired the way he worked with Bean in commanding their fiercely loyal troops, conducting raid after raid with few casualties and, so far, no loss of life.

  Suriyawong had everything Battle School was designed to give its students. He was bold, resourceful, quick, brave, smart, ruthless and yet compassionate. And he saw the world through similar eyes, compared to the westerners who otherwise seemed to have the Hegemon’s ear.

  But somehow he had also fallen in love with her. She liked him too well to shame him by rebuffing advances he had never made, yet she could not love him. He was too young for her, too…what? Too intense about his tasks. Too eager to please. Too…

  Annoying.

  There it was. His devotion irritated her. His constant attention. His eyes on her every move. His praise for her mostly trivial achievements.

  No, she had to be fair. She was annoyed at everyone, and not because they did anything wrong, but because she was out of her place. She was not a soldier. A strategist, yes, even a leader, but not in combat. There was no one in Ribeirão Preto who was likely to follow her, and nowhere that she wanted to lead them.

  How could she fall in love with Suriyawong? He was happy in the life he had, and she was miserable. Anything that made her happier would make him less happy. What future was there in that?