Disclaimer: None of the OSC characters belong to me. What I am creating here is a fanfiction- which means that it is either a) purely speculation, b) purely made up, or c) pure BS. Also, I am not making any money off this (c'mon, people. I'm a 14-year-old here...) so it'd also be pretty pointless to sue me. Please don't. Thank you.

Warning: For those of you who have not read Ender's Shadow and Shadow of the Hegemon, both by Orson Scott Card, this story will be a massive spoiler, not to mention _very_ confusing. In fact, it'll be so confusing in later parts that I wouldn't recommend you read this story unless you've read the books mentioned above.

Streetwise

III. ANTON

\"As far as I see, all we really have to do is figure out why the papas are dumping their children. Then we have to figure out a way to make them stop."\
\"You make it sound so simple..."\
\"That's what Bea- Stratego Delphiki said too."\
\"To tell the truth, I'm afraid I don't quite understand, Hegemon Wiggin. This seems like an impossible problem. If I were you, I wouldn't have agreed to help. So why are you doing this?"\
\"Because, like I just said, all we need to do is figure out why the papas are dumping their children. And that's easy."\
\"Why?"\
\"Because we have one of the children with us."\

* * * * *

"You're late." said Ajena, hearing footsteps outside her door and a voice saying "Petra Arkanian" while someone palmed the door open.

"I know." said Petra as she walked in, taking off the jacket of the military uniform she was in, "Are you all right? You look a bit..."

"I'm fine. Whatever happened to the 'short meeting'?"

"It got extended," said Petra. "The mayor had some interesting things to tell us."

"What was the meeting about, anyway?"

"Important things."

"Such as?"

[Can't tell her the truth. She may be able to figure out that 'domestic affairs' has to do with her...] "Well, we were talking about how Rotterdam could recover from the depression that Battle School forced upon it."

The girl's expression immediately became confused, "What the h-"

"No swearing while you're in my room."

"Or what?" Ajena said dryly, "You'll ground me?"

"Or I'll bring Bean in here to take care of you."

"Oh." A silence, then, "Can you...tell me more? About Rotterdam and Battle School, I mean?"

Petra turned around, regarding the small form before her critically, raising an eyebrow, "Can you understand what I'm going to be telling you?"

Ajena shrugged, "I could try."

A sigh from Petra as she tried to figure out the best way to explain, "You see, to fund Battle School and to defeat the buggers, governments made some sort of treaty with each other. For every large city within a country that had a population above two million, the country would have to pay a certain amount of money. Added on to propaganda and charity funds, the founders of Battle School were able to raise money fairly quickly."

"Yeah. So what does that have to do with your meeting?"

"I'm getting to that. You know that building a school in space is a massive undertaking that, under normal circumstances, would have taken about fifty years. But we didn't have fifty years, because the buggers were coming. So we managed to get Battle School built in five years, with an extraordinary amount of money."

"I saw a news report on this. The money came from taxes, right?"

"Yes. Taxes and bad laws. You see, the world was in a panic at that time over the buggers, so several laws were hurriedly passed without proper examination, and these laws ended up draining many countries' money supply, destroying their economy."

"And Holland was one of these countries?"

"Yeah. That's right. And the collapse of Holland's financial system was the main reason for the number of urchins on the streets nowadays."

"I thought that the first and second Formic Invasion was the reason."

"It was a reason. But not the biggest one. Think about it. If everyone on the streets was an orphan, then how many parents must have been killed by the buggers to send all those children roaming the streets?"

"But I thought the death ratio in Holland was lower than all the other countries...."

[How does she know that?] "Yes. And that's part of the reason Holland was taxed so heavily, but I digress."

"Digress?"

"I'm getting off the point."

"But I want to know why."

"Why Holland was taxed so heavily? It's pretty simple, actually. The international government just figured that, since Holland had lower death stats, they had more people to pay taxes, so they taxed Holland harder."

"But Holland couldn't take it, right? That's why there was a depression."

"No. That's why there _is_ a depression. It's still going on."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Most people don't realize it, because other cities have already managed to pull themselves up. Rotterdam, however, is still having a bit of a problem."

[No kidding....] Ajena thought of all the children on the streets, of the many attempts over the years to raise charity funds for them, of the small children begging at the soup kitchen, "Why was Rotterdam hit harder than other cities?"

"No one's really sure. But most people believe it was because, although Rotterdam had a high population, it also had a high unemployment rate. It meant that less people had jobs, therefore less people had money to pay the taxes with, and the city had to scramble to meet the amounts that international law specified of them."

"So it ended up bankrupting itself."

"Yes," Petra looked at her. "You're pretty smart for an urchin."

"Why thank you."

"No, seriously. Most street kids wouldn't have understood a word of what I said. How did you know all that stuff, anyway?"

"What stuff?"

"About Holland having less deaths, about the taxes...."

"Oh, that." [Dammit, Ajena. Think of _some_ excuse!] "There was a TV shop near where I used to live, and our family used to stand outside in the afternoons to watch, after we'd gotten our food that day. Otherwise, we were bored out of our minds."

"I see." said Petra, turning away and heading toward the bathroom so that Ajena wouldn't be able to see the disbelieving look on her face, "Give me a second. I want to change. This uniform has a tag on the inside of the shirt that's been irritating me."

* * * * *

Bean put a finger to his lips as the two of them, Peter and himself, walked into the room and flicked on the lights. He mouthed one word, "Bug."

The Hegemon nodded, watching as Bean climbed onto the table, unscrewing the light bulb, taking the holder off to reveal the wires below. He then took a small piece of machinery out of his pocket and a pair of wire cutters, snipping at a few choice wires, then hooking the mechanism up to where the light bulb used to be.

"It's safe to talk now." said Bean.

"Anti-bugging device?" said Peter.

"Yeah. Graff gave it to me. Produces small noises to counter whatever sounds we make. It's not perfect, though, so we're still going to have to whisper."

Peter raised his eyebrows briefly, approvingly, "Not bad."

"You really think that Ajena is..." Bean shook his head.

"It makes sense, doesn't it? When Petra found her, she'd been stabbed twice, hit over the head until she was bleeding, and was half dead. You think any papa would have allowed someone else to do that to a member of his family?"

"No, but... Maybe her papa did it, you know?"

"Why would he do that?"

"Gain control. It's uncommon for someone her age to not be in charge of her own family already. So maybe Ajena was trying to take control of her papa's family and the guy didn't like it."

"Well, you've got a point there," conceded Peter, "But wouldn't the guy actually be _losing_ control over his family if the children knew he was capable of doing something like that? I mean, for all they knew, they could be the next ones to get murdered."

"Not really. The youngest children would be too naïve to question him, and the older ones would be too afraid to do so. The way of the street. Don't argue and you'll have a better chance of seeing your next birthday."

"Ah."

There they sat, in semi-darkness, both thinking.

"We can't let her know that we need information out of her." said Bean.

"No."

"But we still need her to tell us everything she knows of the streets."

"That's going to be a problem."

"Yeah. Because she's not exactly the most open person in the world."

"So, any ideas?"

"Petra." The two of them said at the same time.

"Yeah." Bean sighed, "Seems a bit...."

"Exploitive. I know."

"But it's necessary."

"Huh." said Peter softly, self-mockingly, almost bitterly. Then, a soft exhalation, almost a sigh, "So much trouble over one little girl." He mused to himself.

Bean nodded in agreement. There was nothing he could say to that.

"We'd better go." Peter pointed at the schedule on the door, tapping the section that stated there was a bi-weekly meeting at 2 p.m. on Mondays and Thursdays.

Bean glanced at his watch, "Yeah."

He climbed up on the table to take the device off, reconnecting the wires and screwing the bulb back in. Suddenly, light flooded the room and the two of them blinked, unused to the brightness. Bean pocketed the device and they held a short, meaningless debate for the benefit of the bugs in the room, then turned around and left, arguing all the while.

* * * * *

"What's wrong?"

"She scares me." said Petra simply, drinking the rest of her water with one gulp. She and Bean were in the cafeteria, where the noise of people talking around them prevented anyone from overhearing them.

Bean raised an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's been asking me about, you know, political affairs. Why Rotterdam's in a depression, why Ender wasn't allowed to come back to earth, how Peter got elected as Hegemon, things like that." said Petra.

"Yeah?"

"So I've been explaining, and the girl... you got to remember, she's from the streets, she has close to no knowledge of political matters, I've had to explain almost everything in detail at first so she would understand it. Anyway, she's been _absorbing_ the things I'm telling her, learning them at an unbelievably fast rate." She shook her head, "I'm not kidding you, Bean. Although she doesn't have a lot of the common knowledge normal children grow up with, this girl is brilliant. Obviously so."

"Battle School material?"

"If she had a year or two to learn all the stuff that she never learned as an urchin, yeah."

"So what the hell is she doing on the streets?"

"I don't know. You tell me. And there's another thing I noticed, just a while ago. I guess we're used to it, so we didn't see it earlier, but she has perfect speech- the grammar, the wording, everything. She hasn't picked up much of the street slang urchins use. Don't you find that odd?"

"It's odd, but inconclusive. _I_ had mostly perfect grammar, even on the streets."

"Give me a break, Bean. You're exceptional."

"And she's not?" Bean shrugged, "Is that all you called me here for? You sounded pretty unsettled on the phone."

"There's something else."

"What?"

"I need a trace on any activity on my laptop in the past forty-eight hours. The kid's been messing with my computer."

She saw how Bean's eyes widened, "You're sure?"

"Yeah. When I came back from the meeting, Ajena and I talked for a while, and when I went to turn the laptop on later, it was warm. And she's the only one who could've used it without someone noticing."

"She could've let someone in."

"Impossible. Only I have the codes to disarm the security system on my door long enough to let someone in."

"She's street, though. I didn't know how to use a desk until Carlotta...."

"I know. But somehow, she figured it out, or maybe..."

"Or maybe she's not street."

Petra nodded.

"Bean. If I managed to get a blood sample, do you think...?"

"Holland's DNA records aren't too extensive, but we can probably get Chamrajnagar and Anderson to help us out. They've kept a few of their connections open."

"Maybe we're being too paranoid. She could just be very, very brilliant."

"Or she could be a very, very good fake. Either way she's a problem."

* * * * *

"You're not bleeding as much." said Petra, unwrapping the bandage around her shoulder and inspecting the stab wounds, "I don't see any infection. It should heal clean." She moved over to the trashcan, seemingly to throw the bloody cloth away, but instead stuck it in an opened plastic bag in her pocket.

"Will it scar?" asked Ajena.

Petra laughed, "Vain streak?"

"No, that's not it. It's just gonna be hard explaining this to the kids I live with."

"Well, they probably will scar, but it'll fade in time. In the meantime, just don't take off your shirt, no matter how cute the guy is, okay?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny."

"There any blood on the sheets?"

"No."

"Good. I won't need to change them, then." Petra stood and stretched, stifling a yawn, "I'm feeling a bit tired."

"Go to sleep." said Ajena, "I'll let you have the bed for a couple of hours."

"Thanks, but I got a meeting."

"Another one?"

"Yeah."

"What's this one on?"

"Same as yesterday."

"Again?"

"Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day, you know?"

"Yeah, but...."

"Got to go. See you later, okay?"

"Later."

* * * * *

Bean glanced at Petra as she walked out of the room. She stuck her hand into her right pants pocket. The boy got his cell phone out, dialing in Peter's number.

* * * * *

"So, can you help us?" said Peter, crossing his legs.

Rietveld raised his eyebrows and looked away, staring out of the window, "It seems like an awful lot of trouble over one small girl. You sure you don't want to bring her in for questioning?"

"No," said Peter firmly. "She's thirteen. Still a juvenile, in the eyes of the public."

"Doesn't it seem a bit...what's the word for it?"

"Exploitive?" Peter smiled thinly, "Yes, it does. But I can't think of anything else that doesn't involve police or courts to some degree. Can you?"

"Not off the top of my head."

"I'm open to suggestions, though. If you come up with a better idea, please let me know."

The mayor nodded, "So where's the blood sample now?"

"In your inbox."

"My...inbox?"

"Plastic bagged and wrapped in brown paper. It looks like all the other parcels that you have."

Rietveld grimaced a little, "All right. Moving on to more pleasant matters- How're your parents doing?"

"They gave me a phone call the other day. They don't get out of the country much, so they're having the time of their lives." [Their miserable, Ender-less lives...] He almost added, but shut his mouth in time.

"Do they like the accommodations we arranged for them?"

"Yes. They commented on how luxurious they were. My mother's exact words were, as I believe, 'Better than what we have back home.'"

"Glad to hear it." Rietveld smiled briefly before sighing, standing up and extending his hand. That was Peter's cue to wrap up their talk, "I'll contact you as soon as we get results on the blood test. Hope to see you soon, Hegemon Wiggin."

"Thanks for your cooperation."

"No," said Rietveld, "Thank _you_. On behalf of Rotterdam, I hope you figure this out."

* * * * *

Ajena let out an audible sigh as she got up and began walking around the room. She'd made this a regular pattern- a thousand steps at seven in the morning, two thousand at noon, and another two thousand at six PM, while Petra was usually out at breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Lately, her head didn't spin as much and her arm had stopped bleeding every time she accidentally banged it, so, with luck, and with the regular meals she'd been getting, she might even be able to get herself back in shape.

[At least, back to the way I used to be before Riki...]

She smiled to herself, a little bitterly, and looked at the window. Petra had made it explicitly clear that she couldn't open the blinds when she wasn't in the room, but that didn't stop her from peeking out from between the slats. There was really nothing to see, anyway. A rather pretty courtyard containing several tall trees, a sidewalk winding along whatever flowers were in bloom during the season, and the occasional set of lovers at twilight. Hell, she even knew what each of the three doors set into the walls led to from the map she'd found on Petra's computer. East- cafeteria. South- hallway with mostly conference rooms. North...

She stopped mid-step, her mind flickering through a myriad of possibilities, then kept on walking.

North led to the main entrance.

Of course, there were guards. And cameras. And about three different checkpoints to pass through. But she was reasonably sure that she could get through them without any problems. Ajena grinned to herself, mentally listing the things she'd need.

She always loved a challenge.

* * * * *

The girl was sleeping again when Petra came back. The Armenian shook her head, eyes going over the pale fuzz carpet. There were darker, flatter areas where someone had paced around the room, retracing her steps over and over again.

[Guess we know who that someone is, neh?]

Petra sighed, putting down the uneaten tray of food she was carrying on the small table next to the bed. She'd meant to bring it for Ajena, but the girl obviously wasn't going to be eating it anytime soon, and she didn't want to wake her up. Instead, she went over to the computer, hit the on switch.

It had been a long day. A maid had nearly gotten into her room- almost discovering Ajena- before Petra had stopped her. Rietveld hadn't been able to make any progress with the blood sample. Peter and Bean had spent the entire morning and the majority of the afternoon attending meeting after meeting until they were both in a foul mood and were snapping at each other throughout dinner, and, to top it all off, the trace on her computer she'd requested, a trace that should have only taken two hours with her priority status, was going to take another two days to come through due to a new virus that had spread through Embassy's computers.

[Damn. Maybe I should've just stayed in bed this morning.]

She cast a glance over the figure in her bed as she waited for the computer to boot up. It was almost relaxing to watch Ajena sleep, the covers rising and falling with each breath she took. Petra felt the tension in her body unknotting, until....

The computer beeped, jerking her out of the dreamlike state she'd been in. Petra shook her head and typed in "Achilles"- she hadn't changed the password yet, because she wanted to know what else Ajena would try to do with the system- watching as the screen flicked on.

New mail. The usual collection of stuck-up politicians trying to reach the Hegemon through her, the almost daily E-mail from her family, still in Brazil, the updates from Peter, the occasional hi from her old Battle School friends, and...

A report from jdelphiki@.strat.gov

Petra felt unreasonably apprehensive as she double-clicked on the mail labeled "Anton."

* * * * *

"Hey." said Peter to the girl standing in the dead end. She looked like she was eight or nine years old, on the thin side, but fairly healthy for an urchin. Naturally, the kid didn't reply, glaring at Peter warily.

"Look," said Peter, taking his wallet out of his back pocket, "There's something in for you if-"

"I don't spread my legs for anyone, least of all you."

Peter colored at the remark, but forced himself to keep his calm, "No, thank you. I like my women taller and _older_. Now, if you would just listen...."

"Why?"

"Because I'll give you enough money to buy a couple of hot dogs off that vendor two streets down if you answer my questions about this other girl I know."

The girl was looking at the bill he was holding in his hand. She swallowed, hard. Peter smiled to himself. He was right. Although the street kids were getting enough to eat, they were still hungry enough to want a meal or two on the side. This was almost too easy.

"You got my attention."

"You know someone who calls herself Ajena? Dark skin, dark hair, blue eyes?"

The urchin's eyes widened in surprise, "Look, I don't-"

"Don't lie to me." Peter cut her off, waving the bill around, "You want this or not?"

After a long silence came the grudging answer, "Yeah. Know her." Then, underneath the girl's breath, "The bitch."

Peter raised an eyebrow at the last word but continued on, "She be twelve, thirteen, neh? Why she not in charge of a family? Or in one?"

"No kids go near her."

"Why not?"

"'Cause she killed her papa."

* * * * *

When Bean palmed open the door to his room a few hours later, he found someone sitting on his bed, waiting up for him. He stood there for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness in the room. Only three people knew how to override the security codes on his door- Peter, himself, and....

"Petra."

No reply.

"Pet?" He went over to her, touched her cheek in the semi-darkness, and was startled to find that it was damp. She pushed him away roughly, wiping her face on her sleeve before looking up at him.

"Tell me this is all a joke."

"What?"

"Anton. Volescu. Tell me all this shit is some joke gone wrong." Her eyes, pleading, begging, asking him not to seal the sentence that would destroy all hope of anything between them. It would be so easy to lie, to tell her no, it wasn't true, he wasn't going to die before his twenty-fifth birthday from the genetic enhancements Anton had discovered and Volescu had made. No, he was fine, no, he was great, no, don't worry, Petra, and for God's sake, please, _please_, don't cry.

"It's the truth."

"Oh, God..." He heard a catch of breath in her voice before she composed herself. He waited a long time for her next words.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She said. The voice was flat. No emotion, nothing. Somehow, that unnerved him more than if she'd been screaming at him.
Bean let out a long sigh and sat down on the mattress next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She didn't flinch away at the touch, but she didn't respond either, "I did tell you. I sent you an-"

"You sent me an E-mail." said Petra, a note of almost cynical laughter going into her voice before it was replaced by something close to a sob, "Dammit, Bean, why? Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

She buried her face in her hands, feeling Bean's arms go around her as she wept, his lips whispering meaningless words of comfort, his hands pulling her towards him so that her head rested on his shoulder, rocking back and forth, back and forth, until she fell asleep in the embrace of a boy far too young to die.









Author's note: Okay, so what do you think? Please review! (I need the motivation to write the fourth chapter...^_^;)

Next chapter: A disappearing act, a chance meeting, and an answer.

Quote: "I'm not making an accusation here, Peter."

Hint (since I love you guys so much, lol): chance meeting is with someone that a few of you _might_ remember from Ender's Shadow (I doubt it, though. The guy was only mentioned in the first couple of chapters...). Any guesses as to who that is?