Note: I have read the book, but this is inspired strictly from the movie. Enjoy!
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The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.
Ezekiel 25:17
Ender Wiggin hadn't slept in three days. He shivered in the dark silence. Stared out of the cockpit viewport at the open voids. But he couldn't stop them. Even in this sea of silent hyper-awareness that beat like poison in his blood, the visions flashed across his eyes like fireworks over the infinite backdrop of space.
He clenched his bloodshot eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Another spasm of terror tore through him like a searing kiss from hot metal.
The ring of fire consumed, spreading wider and wider like a great mouth swallowing everything.
The horror crushed his heart as he lost all balance, all sight, brushing through the crowd as the floor threatened to leave his feet.
He opened his eyes again. He steeled his mind, closing it like the lid of Pandora's box.
He stood alone again in the cockpit of his small silver vessel, silence closed in on him like a coffin. The lights from the HUD winked. Ahead of him was nothing. To his left was nothing. To his right – nothing.
And behind him, stowed safely in a box in the cargo hold, sat the egg. The last Queen. The last hope of life.
He tried to keep his eyes open. He swallowed mightily and tried to calm his breathing. It didn't work. Nothing worked. His heart wouldn't slow down. The rivers of prickling fire wouldn't stop racing down his skin.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down the tip of his nose.
A question reached his mind. A foreign thought, wondering what was going to happen next.
"Not now," He whispered. "I can't- please, not now."
It faded.
He strangled a yelp as it threatened to rise from his belly and choke him – a nightmare flashed again and his stomach convulsed.
"You said it was only a game!"
He noticed the collar of his uniform sticking to his skin, wet from his sweat.
When he opened his eyes again he stumbled forward, desperately throwing himself into the captain's chair and fumbling for the control monitor. With shaking hands, he activated it and tapped his fingers on the screen, opening a menu.
Destination Coordinates: [ _ - _ - _ ]
Ender paused for a moment, the cursor blinking at him, then opened the keypad and entered three numbers:
00-00-00
The computer automatically acknowledged his input.
Destination Coordinates: [ 00 - 00 - 00 ]
Confirm Destination?
YES NO
He pressed 'YES.' The engines immediately activated, humming and rising to a roar, and the ship spun up and to the left, adjustment nozzles hissing as it righted itself in space. The drives engaged, and the ship shot forward so fast the stars blazed past like missiles.
Ender felt nothing – there was no acceleration. He leaned back against his seat, letting the streaks of the flashing stars draw lines on his tired vision.
Coordinates 00-00-00.
Earth.
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The doorbell buzzed as he depressed it with his finger. The sun shone on his shoulders, filtering through the trees as they waved in the gentle wind, casting pleasant shadows over the grass. A tiny suitcase sat by his ankle. Ender kept his eyes fixed on the holovid as the screen appeared, giving him a view of the inside hallway.
Valentine's face appeared. Her deep brown hair was longer than when he had last seen it. Her stormy blue eyes flashed wide in surprise.
"Ender!" She shouted, and flashed out of view. The Holovid disappeared. Footsteps clattered closer to the door and the door flew open.
"Ender!" she cried again, throwing her arms around him. A brief smile reached the corner of Ender's lips as he encircled his arms around her back.
"Oh, Ender I got your message – I was so worried you wouldn't come back. Where have you been?"
She finally pulled away, resting her hands on his shoulders and watching his eyes earnestly. He stared back, narrowing his slightly, watching her.
"I've… just been busy," he murmured at last.
Her happiness faded slightly from her face, but then she grabbed his arm.
"Please – come in."
By now all of this commotion had summoned the rest of the family. Mother showered him with hugs and kisses, practically smothering him, and Father praised him with such affection that Ender dimly remembered that only a year ago he would have paid a fortune to hear those words. All the while Peter, who had grown even taller and more muscular in Ender's absence, leaned carelessly against the wall of the hallway, watching him.
Mother finally let him go and Ender met Peter's eyes.
"We heard all the details about the third invasion," he drawled. "Nice move."
Ender paused, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean, 'third invasion?'" He asked.
"We heard all about it," Father said, his Polish accent as thick as Ender remembered it. "How the Bugs launched another invasion into our space, but you- you went behind them took them by surprise. You wiped out their entire fleet!"
"Like I said, nice," said Peter. "Stole that one from Hannibal, right?"
Ender didn't speak. He just stared. Surrender… that's what they decided to call it. But - of course they wouldn't release the real story. He should have seen it coming. He shook his head – where had his mind gone?
"Are you okay?" Valentine asked, frowning at him, her brow creased with worry.
"I'm fine," Ender said dully. He gestured to his suitcase. "Can I take this to my room?"
They all fell silent, watching him.
"Oh – um… sure. Of course, Andrew," said Mom, giving him a small, quivering smile. Ender nodded, expressionless, picked up his bag, and strode past them to his room.
It was untouched – everything sat in the exact spot at which he had left it a year ago. He glanced around for a moment, noting that someone had at least dusted in here, then placed the suitcase on his bed.
A soft footstep on the carpet behind him. Too quiet.
"So, how does it feel," a low voice breathed in his ear, 'To be the hero?"
Ender whirled and slammed his grip over Peter's throat, crushing his windpipe in his fingers and driving him backwards, slamming his head into the wall. The wall shuddered and a picture frame fell from its hook with a crack. Ender looked straight into Peter's eyes, nose touching his, a blaze of fury with such power and strength coursing through him that that he felt the strength to kill surging in his hands.
Peter stood frozen in Ender's grasp, his eyes wide and focused, looking unflinchingly back. Then they widened further and he took in a labored gasp. It was as though he was seeing Ender for the first time.
"What was that?" Valentine's muffled voice came from the hall. Ender loosened his grip and lowered his hand. Red marks lined Peter's throat where his fingers had cut into the skin. Valentine appeared outside the door and opened it. Her eyes immediately flashed upon the scene, looking back and forth between them. Ender saw – she knew exactly what had happened as surely as though she had seen it herself.
"Ender?" she asked quietly. Ender and Peter's eye contact hadn't broken. And Ender realized that something had changed – his vision had blurred. Then it cleared as tears spilled down his cheeks.
"What did they do to you?" Peter breathed.
They were silent. Ender turned away and moved back to his suitcase, keeping Peter in his line of sight. Peter and Valentine stayed still as statues, watching him. Ender swallowed and looked down. He tried not to close his eyes. His heart slammed in his chest and refused to calm. His fingers shook as he tried to undo the clasps of his luggage.
"They lied," Valentine murmured. "I knew it."
Ender looked up at them.
"Your poker face sucks," Peter sniped softly, folding his arms across his chest.
Ender's jaw trembled.
"Is it almost suppertime?" He managed, his voice quivering.
"Um… yeah. It'll be – yeah, in a bit," said Valentine. She looked at Peter and touched his arm. "Come on, Peter."
Peter narrowed his eyes, studying Ender, then turned and left the room, Valentine behind him.
Silence reigned.
Ender sank onto his bed, the covers rustling. He ran his hand across them, their touch stirring old memories under his skin.
Another tear fell and made a damp spot on the starched fabric of his grey trousers.
His family was like strangers. Be it in the chasm of infinite space, or in the arms of his sister, always he carried this immortal hell:
Always- always he stood alone.
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After an intolerably long supper in which Ender dutifully answered every question they asked him – except for what really happened – he excused himself to bed, claiming that traveling had worn him out. Their concerned gazes burned into his back as he left. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore them.
When the long night had finally begun, Ender lay in his bed, staring up at the blank ceiling – he had taken down the mobile of the Formic spaceship that he had made when he was young and hidden it in his closet. Then, for good measure, he took down everything off of his walls – his models of Mazer's plane, all of his models and toys, all of the posters of propaganda from the IF that he had once hung for inspiration.
His door opened. Ender closed his eyes and slowed his breathing pattern. The footsteps slipped across the carpet – too soft.
Peter.
"I know you're awake."
Ender opened his eyes. Peter stared down at him. His expression was hidden in shadow.
"I killed someone at battle school," said Ender, surprised at how dull and flat his voice sounded. "He tried to beat me up when I was naked in the shower." He meant it as a warning, but Peter just replied:
"Serves him right. Terrible choice of location."
He slowly knelt by the bedside. Ender sat up on his elbow. So, Peter wasn't here to get revenge after all. Maybe.
"Tell me," Peter murmured, his eyes narrow. "Tell me what really happened."
Ender's throat closed. His nose wrinkled.
"Don't pretend," he whispered.
"Ender, talk," Peter asked again. "I'll understand."
Ender threw his covers off and put his feet on the ground.
"No matter how violent you were," Ender snarled, "or how cruel, or vicious, You have no idea, no ability to comprehend what I've been through. You know nothing! You just find me intriguing because I know something you don't!"
Peter closed his eyes and let out a low sigh through his nose.
"Maybe you'll see, one day, Ender." He got to his feet again and looked down at him. "Maybe you'll see me. I hope you can."
And Peter turned and left the room.
Ender sat motionless on the edge of his bed for the rest of the night, holding back the river of nightmares with a dam of wet clay.
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