Chapter One: Peter
To: Antoine LaRue antoine.larue@highaugur.gov
From: Anthony Carmichael acarmichal@planetoperations.gov
Greetings, my dear namesake. I'm afraid I have bad news. The head of the Planet Operations division has proposed a shutdown of Augur for reasons that I cannot fathom. I am telling you this as a friend; my mouth was supposed to be kept shut. Treason of this kind could earn me death. But please, tell the citizens of Augur to find out as much as they can about this and to get help immediately. It would be such a shame if xenocide were to happen again… especially if it were to happen to your people. Take care.
Anthony
"I hate mass speakings," murmured Ender as he spread a towel over the warm sand. "It's not the extra research that bothers me. It's the fact that so many people perished all in the same moment. And then I get to take care of the aftermath." He laid down, staring at the sea before him. "It's sad."
"I know," Valentine replied. "I feel the same way, even though I'm not a speaker myself…"
Ender glanced at her. He really shouldn't bother much about telling his sister the way he felt about certain things, because chances were, she already knew. God, he loved her for that. He loved her for her. "I'm glad you're here."
"Well, it's not like I'm going to let you wander the Hundred Worlds alone."
"I mean, I'm glad it's you that's here, not Peter."
Valentine smiled absently. "Since when do you want to start talking about Peter again all of a sudden?"
"Since now."
Peter, their older brother, who had died over a thousand years ago as Hegemon back on Earth. The ruthless one. The one who had left behind the writer Locke as his legacy.
The one who had given Ender nightmares all his life.
"Ender, I don't want to talk about him. You know nothing good ever comes out of that. Surely now, nearly fourteen hundred years after his death, we've run out of things to say about him?"
"He has a way of coming back from the dead."
A worried look flashed across Val's face. "Are you okay? Was that speaking too hard on you? Look, Ender, you're twenty-two now and more than able to handle that eighty-year-old control freak."
Ender grinned. "I'm fine. The beach cures all."
"It better."
"It will."
The two lounged about on the beach for another hour before retiring to their hotel room in the city. Ender tossed his bag on the twin bed and was about to turn to tell Val that she could use the shower first when someone spoke.
"How has Augur been treating you so far, Andrew Wiggin?"
A thin, pale girl, just out of childhood, stepped into the room, watching him closely.
I don't think I can call myself a soldier anymore, if I can't even feel another's nearby presence, Ender thought ruefully. "Fine," he answered. "Wonderful, in fact. What could be better than spending some time on a planet with French origins?"
The girl laughed lightly. She was very beautiful. "Nothing, of course."
Ender could hear running water. Valentine must have gotten in the shower as soon as they had come back. He was all alone, then.
Not that he thought this slip of a person would present any major problem, if something should arise.
"I've come to tell you something, Andrew Wiggin. You know about the—peculiarities—of the Augurians, non?"
"I do."
"Then you know that the only reason we Augurians even exist is to serve Congress."
"Yes."
"And you also know that with a flick of a switch, xenocide can easily be committed on this planet."
"Yes."
Approximately six hundred years ago, Congress had decided that it needed "helpers" to aid them in capturing anyone that opposed the new form of government that was in effect at the time. The top scientists in all the universe banded together to create a new species of human, one that had very limited capacity for the past and present, but an infinite amount for the future.
Seers. Soothsayers. Psychics. Augurs. It didn't matter what you called them. They could see ahead.
There was another side to this, however. The scientists had made them so that they could be terminated easily if needed. Thus, Augurians acted like plants: they required light to live.
Augur was millions of miles away from the nearest star, so the natural light they received was very little. Artificial light was the norm.
And somewhere on a planet forty light years away, there was a switch that could shut off all electricity here.
"You see where I'm going with this, non?" the girl asked quietly.
"A shutdown. Near or far future?"
"Near. It's already been proposed. Our High Augur, Antoine LaRue, told us about it. He says that when we have visions, we must try to look for that, because that is the key to our survival."
The Augurian community was divided into two: there were people who could see into the near future and people who could see into the far future, sometimes thousands of years ahead. "So what do the people that can see far say?"
The girl shook her head. "They can't tell what's what. It's very difficult for them."
Ender considered this. "You say them. I assume that you're one of the people who—don't see as far?"
"Oui. You make it sound like a limitation, though. It's not."
"I apologize."
"Apology accepted. But to get to the point, I've come to ask for your help. In my vision of Augur's future, I saw you and I knew you'd be the one to tip the scales. Please. Help us save our planet and our home."
The bathroom door creaked open, and Valentine stepped out, loosely dressed in pajamas. She looked around the room, saw the girl, and ducked behind the door again. "I'm sorry," she said, blushing. "I didn't realize we had… visitors."
"Ah, desolée," the girl breathed. "In my haste I forgot to introduce myself." She made direct eye contact with Ender, and he hoped that the people of Augur couldn't read minds. "My name is Emilie Dorer."
"End—Andrew Wiggin," he said, flushing because he very nearly introduced himself by his more notorious name. Why was he doing this, anyway? She already knew who he was. "And this is Valentine Wiggin, my sister." He gestured at the bathroom door.
"Nice to meet you," Val said, still blushing.
"I'm glad you two have such a wonderful sense of humor. I see—difficult times ahead." Emilie had meant it literally, not as a rebuke.
"Yes, well, we do try. Although it looks to be mere stupidity instead of humor when you're in pajamas and pink bunny slippers." She grinned wryly.
Emilie stared off into blank space for a moment. "You were in the vision too," she said finally.
Val looked at Ender. What vision? her eyes were asking.
I'll explain later, he mouthed.
The other nodded doubtfully.
"I must go now," Emilie said, standing up with a distracted look on her face. "Oh, but before I do, I have to tell you something else."
"Does this have anything to do with the shutdown?"
"No. But it does have to do with you. A friend of mine tells me that sometime in the distant future, the brother of the xenocide will return."
Ender could tell that this girl knew his terrible secret.
"That is the distant future. For now, focus on the present. The shutdown of Augur and possible xenocide. Goodbye."
The seer swept out of the room, shutting the door gently behind her. Ender barely noticed.
The brother of the xenocide will return. God, he knew it, someday Peter Wiggin would come back and—and—do what?
Stop it, a voice said in his head. The Hive Queen.
I'm sorry. I just don't like the thought of Peter coming back.
Like the girl said, it is in the distant future. You have perhaps a few thousand years before you need to worry. Your agenda for now: the shutdown and me.
Sorry. Again. I didn't mean to get out of control like that.
Good. Now. The people of Augur depend on you. Focus.
He focused.
