Disclaimer: Me own mine foot...but not Orson Scott Card stuff. (pouts).
EmberNickel:D You make me smile, lol. Hope you liked the cookie...just don't eat too many, heaven forbid you get as tall as (sobs)...BEAN...
-Perfect Solution-: MUTINY? Aw, crap, NOW look what you've done! First they DEMAND to get on and figure out what "mutiny" means (I didn't wanna tell 'em), and now suddenly they've all got guns and knives and EMOTIONALLY DAMAGING WORDS...I hope you're happy...lol. Oh, and I'm glad you liked the cookies. Downloaded 'em fresh me-self that mornin'. Have another, if you'd like, but be careful if you're allergic to blogs.
SilverGryphin: Thanks so much for reviewing! Lol I remembered the standings thing about an hour after I posted it, but by then I was all, Neh, I've screwed it enough with the plotline (teehee!). And I miss the bold thingies, too. I wish Orson would keep writing in the series...make some character up or something! He basically fanficked Ender's Shadow and the whole series after it, he can do it again! Lolzers. And I'm really glad of your constructive criticism. It's really helpful. It's rare that someone reviews with good info like that--I truly admire you for it. I will refrain from reading the dialogue aloud (siblings...watching...waiting for blackmail, the little pinpricks...being in a one bedroom hotel room with all three of 'em isn't helping the cause...), but I'm thinking inside my brain--be proud, not very many people can get me to do that. (shudders). So again, thank you! I'm glad you like it.
The 42: YAY! I'm glad I've hooked you. Now I can reel you in and cook you for dinner just like the--oh, wait a second. WHADDAYA WANT, MOM?...No, I'm not virtually cooking any authors on fanfiction...STOP ACCUSING ME OF SUCH ODD, UNTHINKABLE CRIMES! Lol. Thanks for the compliment :D. Hope ya like chappie the fourth.
NOTE TO PEOPLES/NERDS (didn't want to discriminate just in case any of my species is online reading this, ya know?):I bull-crapped the scene with Ender and Bean. Ididn't have the bookwith me(I've become an Ender's Shadowmissionarynow, handing it to strangers like the bibleand saying, "Enlighten yourselves...SAVE YOURSELVES..." and somehow ran outta copies), so I decided to recreate it based on what I remembered and what I wanted to add in. So, uh, there's the answer ifyou're wondering what the hell is going on.:D
Oh, and if you'realso wondering how I'm posting whenI said I'd be on vacation,it turns out my dad broughthis laptop and nowI'm on this late into the night, typing away...MWAHAHAHA...except not evilly, I s'pose.
NOW READ, MY MINIONS, READ!
Chapter Four
Dream
Bean used the walk to Ender's room to think up conspiracies. Battle School used to be a mere tool for him; it was sheer survival. Then it changed. He wanted to be a commander, and he knew it—finally, a goal, something to work for besides food and a decent alley to sleep in.
But these people in the school, they didn't trust him and he knew it. The whole survival routine didn't work with them. He supposed that hacking into the systems by pretending to be a teacher—Graff, at that—probably didn't make for a good impression, but that was too late to change. What was he supposed to do now? Pretend that the game hadn't hurt him? Pretend that he was fine?
Yes, said a little voice in his head. That's exactly what I'm supposed to do. They want to play games? I'll give them games. He knew he'd play it again. He couldn't run away from Achilles, not this time. Too many people had to be hurt…and it was Bean's fault. He'd told Poke to do it. If he hadn't done that—
He shook his head, blinking back tears. Why was he so emotional? Today of all days, when god only knew if the teachers were plotting to have them fight a third battle at midnight or something. It was just pressure. He wouldn't be acting like such a baby otherwise.
Collecting himself immediately, he knocked on Ender's door.
"Come in."
Bean opened the door. "Got your message," he said. "Nikolai said you were looking for me."
Ender nodded. "I was."
Bean waited. Ender stared at him for a moment; Bean realized he was still bloody and hadn't gone to the bathrooms to wash up. He stared right back at Ender unfaltering, showing him that he didn't care about it and Ender shouldn't either. He knew that this was only the beginning. There would be more to come—the temptation of the game had become irresistible.
"Remember four weeks ago, Bean? When you told me to make you a toon leader?"
"Eh," Bean answered, not sure whether he should say anything else. Whenever he talked to Ender it was usually Ender making him the smart kid no one liked or some form of belittlement. Either that or Bean coming off snide, which was not what he wanted. He'd fallen into the trap. He wanted Ender to like him, just like everybody else.
"I've made five toon leaders and five assistants, and not one of them has been you."
Bean stood up a little straighter, wondering what he was getting at. Maybe he'd finally seen Bean's intelligence. Had he been watching? Did this mean Bean was ready in his eyes?
"Yes."
"I told you that you had to prove your abilities to me," Ender continued, "and in these past few battles, you have. You think of maneuvers quicker than anyone, and you've probably saved us in more than one instance in battle. I need you to keep doing that for me. I need you to catch the little things, things nobody would notice, to keep us ahead. I trust you."
"How do you know I can do it?" Bean asked out of sheer curiosity. How did Ender pick up on things?
"I've seen you in battle and in practice. And if you can't do it…then we're screwed. I'm running out of ideas, Bean. I need something new. Something fresh. I need your help." He pulled out a list of names and handed it to Bean. "Here. You can form a group from these boys and practice during free time."
His eyes trailed down the list. "No veterans," he observed. Not that it was a problem. The names on this list were promising; he'd already narrowed them down, in fact. He knew who would be in his group.
"After this past week, we're all veterans. Even the launchies." Ender leaned back onto the wall in thought. Bean perused the list for a few moments before Ender spoke again, almost more to himself than to Bean. "I don't understand. Why'd they give me an army of kids so young? Launchies and transfers and rejects. And yet all of them are...different. Was it chance? How much do the teachers really know?"
He left the air out in the open unanswered.
The teachers know nothing, Bean wanted to say. I did it. I did it all.
Bean knew that the question was rhetorical, though; of course he didn't expect Bean to have the answer. He had no idea that it was Bean who had painstakingly gone through the hundreds of battle school students and specially selected the members of Dragon Army. He wasn't blaming Bean. He was confiding in Bean. A chill ran up his spine--confiding in Bean? But why? Did he know?
No, of course he didn't. Anyone, even Ender, needed someone to talk to. It was strange but it was true. Ender wasn't really a distant god like everyone thought.
So he finally shrugged at his commander, pretending not to have a clue.
"Why'd they make you a soldier so young, Bean?" Ender asked, shaking his head.
"No younger than you were."
"But why?"
"I don't know," Bean lied.
Ender didn't respond. He knew that Bean understood. His silence was a courtesy towards Bean, prompting him to tell the inevitable truth.
Bean swallowed hard. He realized there was a gap between his two front teeth. He traced it with his tongue, the raw gum metallic tasting and spongy. Then finally he spoke.
"The buggers. They want us to fight the buggers, and they want us soon, so they're pushing us all through training as fast as possible."
Ender smiled weakly. "I guess the rumors are true. You do get it."
"They're pitting us all against each other in this battle, but in the end, we're all going to be fighting the buggers together. I don't understand this school. The teachers are just messing with us now—" Bean thought of the fantasy game and repressed a shudder. "It's stupid, really," he commented, for lack of a better word.
Ender nodded. "You're right, Bean. They're breaking us down. I don't know how many more battles we can take."
"We'll win, Ender. You're the best."
Ender shook his head. "Our army is tired. I'm tired. You're tired. Hell, you were attacked by a game today. How's that for psychological distress?" he laughed bitterly.
"The game didn't—" The lights shut off. "—attack me," Bean finished, quieting his voice. Achilles did.
"Can you find your way back in the dark?"
Bean searched for Ender's outline, but couldn't even manage that. It was pitch black, darker than the inside of his eyelids. He wasn't even sure of where the door was, let alone the maze of hallways he had to use to get back to the bunks.
"Probably not," he said honestly.
"Stay here for the night," said Ender. "Maybe you'll see the good fairy come bring our next battle assignment for tomorrow."
Bean nodded, then realized that Ender couldn't see him. "Alright." He felt the wall behind him, found the doorknob. After inching along the wall he found a corner and curled up into it, resting his head on the carpet. "Night."
"Night," said Ender.
Bean closed his eyes, too exhausted to think of teachers or battles or the game. He'd get up early, deal with it in the morning. He relaxed, let his breathing even out, and slowly fell asleep.
Kill him. Kill him.
You promised.
It's me or Achilles.
Kill him. Kill him.
You followed me here?
Don't be afraid, Bean. I'll miss you…
Kill him.
Shorter than Ender Wiggin! They just keep getting smaller!
Pinprick.
I heard they used to call you that once.
Kill him!
Bean gasped, his eyes flying open. He was already standing, he realized once he oriented himself. His heart beat violently in his chest. Where the hell was he?
He reached out and found the wall in the darkness. That was right—it was Ender's room. Lights out had come too soon.
"Ender?" he whispered, wondering if that was what had woken him.
He heard a light snore. Wiggin was asleep, at least for now. He carefully tread towards the door, feeling the cold, metal knob. Carefully he creaked the door open, facing the equally dark hallway. He'd find his way through to the game room. It wasn't as far as the bunks and he didn't feel like playing it on his desk, anyway.
He had to play the fantasy game. He needed to do it now, when he was alone. He didn't want Ender pulling him out this time, even if it meant letting Achilles kill him.
Something click-clacked into his consciousness. Ender blearily opened his eyes. Surely not Graff already. It couldn't be two in the morning yet! Was he going to fight a battle that early in the morning, after fighting two armies yesterday?
He sat upright, remembering Bean's presence. "Bean?" he asked.
No reply. "Hey, Bean, you in here?"
Again, nothing but the gloomy room answered him. He pulled the covers up, closed his eyes. Thekid had probably already gone back to the bunks. He was smart. He'd know the way back.
Ender yawned, savoring the next few precious hours he'd have to rest, and instantly fell back to sleep.
And there's chapter four! Now I'll crawl into the half-deflated air mattress and think of more sinister plots to post on fanfiction while pretending to sleep. And I might just take over the world. You know, likea hobby or something. You can say ya knew me when. Lolzers. And by taking over the world, I really mean taking over the small puddle of water and the amoebas living in it in our hotel sink. But those amoebas need a LEADER! A representative!
...shutting up now :D. Review, please! It makes me happy and happiness means...um...I'm happy? Huh. That was deep. But let's stick with that.