Enders In Exile

they have
done if they had won? Brought Ender home and put on a big parade for
him?"
    Theresa knew all of
this. She had known it, viscerally at least, from the moment she read
Graff's letter. No, she had known it even before, had known it with a
sick dread as soon as she heard that the Formic War was over. He would
not be coming home.
    She felt John Paul's
hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. His hand
returned, stroking her arm as she lay there, facing away from him,
crying because she knew she had already lost the argument, crying
because she wasn't even on her own side in their quarrel.
    "We knew when he was
born that he didn't belong to us."
    "He
does
belong to us."
    "If he comes home, his
life belongs to whatever government has the power to protect him and
use him—or kill him. He's the single most important asset
surviving from the war. The great weapon. That's all he'll
be—that and such a celebrity he can't possibly have a normal
childhood anyway. And would we be much help, Theresa? Do we understand
what his life has been for the past seven years? What kind of parents
can we be to the boy—the man—that he's become?"
    "We would be
wonderful
,"
she said.
    "And we know this
because we're such perfect parents for the children we have at home
with us."
    Theresa rolled onto her
back. "Oh, dear. Poor Peter. It must be killing him that Ender might
come home."
    "Take the wind right
out of his sails."
    "Oh, I'm not sure of
that," said Theresa. "I bet Peter is already figuring out how to
exploit Ender's return."
    "Until he finds out
that Ender is much too clever to be exploited."
    "What preparation does
Ender have for
politics
? He's been in the
military all this time."
    John Paul chuckled.
    "All right, yes, of
course the military is just as political as government."
    "But you're right,"
said John Paul. "Ender's had protection there, people who intended to
exploit him, yes, but he hasn't had to do any bureaucratic fighting for
himself. He's probably a babe in the woods when it comes to maneuvering
like that."
    "So Peter really could
use him?"
    "That's not what
worries me. What worries me is what Peter will do when he finds out
that he
can't
use him."
    Theresa sat back up and
faced her husband. "You can't think
Peter
would
raise a hand against Ender!"
    "Peter doesn't raise
his
own
hand to do anything difficult or
dangerous. You know how he's been using Valentine."
    "Only because she lets
him use her."
    "Exactly my point,"
said John Paul.
    "Ender is
not
in danger from his own family."
    "Theresa, we have to
decide: What's best for Ender? What's best for Peter and Valentine?
What's best for the future of the world?"
    "Sitting here on our
bed, in the middle of the night, the two of us are deciding the fate of
the world?"
    "When we conceived
little Andrew, my dear, we decided the fate of the world."
    "And had a good time
doing it," she added.
    "Is it good for Ender
to come home? Will it make him happy?"
    "Do you really think
he's forgotten us?" she asked. "Do you think Ender doesn't care whether
he comes home?"
    "Coming home lasts a
day or two. Then there's
living
here. The danger
from foreign powers, the unnaturalness of his life at school, the
constant infringements on his privacy, and let's not forget Peter's
unquenchable ambition and envy. So I ask again, will Ender's life here
be happier than it would be if . . ."
    "If he stays out in
space? What kind of life will
that
be for him?"
    "The I.F. has made its
commitment—total neutrality in regard to anything happening
on Earth. If they have Ender, then the whole world—every
government—will
know
they'd better not
try to go up against the Fleet."
    "So by not coming home,
Ender continues to save the world on an ongoing basis," said Theresa.
"What a useful life he'll have."
    "The point is that
nobody
else
can use him."
    Theresa put on her
sweetest voice. "So you think we should write back to Graff and tell
him that we don't want Ender to come home?"
    "We can't do anything
of the kind," said John Paul. "We'll write back that we're eager to see
our son and we don't think any bodyguard will be necessary."
    It took her a moment to
realize why he seemed to be reversing everything he'd said. "Any
letters we send Graff," she said, "will be just as public as the letter
he sent us. And just as empty. And we do nothing and let things take
their course."
    "No, my dear," said
John Paul. "It happens that living in our own house,
under our own roof, are two of the most