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Then they got off the shuttle and were dispersed throughout the world. And even though Armenia and Greece were relatively close together----compared to, say, Shen in Japan or Hot Soup in China-they never saw each other, they never even wrote. She knew that Bean was going home to meet a family that he had never known, and she was busy trying to get involved with her own family again. She didn't exactly pine for him, or he for her. And besides, they didn't need to hang out together or chat all the time for her to know that, left hand with right hand, they were still friends, still belonged together. That when she needed someone, the first person she should call on was Bean.
In a world that didn't have Ender Wiggin in it, that meant he was the person she loved most. That she would miss most if anything happened to him.
Which is why she could pretend that she wasn't going to worry about Bean getting folded by Achilles, but it wasn't true. She worried all the time. Of course, she worried about herself, too-and maybe a little more about herself than about him. But she'd already lost one love in her life, and even though she told herself that these childhood friendships wouldn't matter in twenty years, she didn't want to lose the other.
Her desk beeped at her.
There was a message in the display.
When did I designate this as naptime? Come see me.
Only Achilles wrote with such peremptory rudeness. She hadn't been napping. She had been thinking. But it wasn't worth arguing with him about it.
She logged off and got up from her desk.
It was evening, getting dark outside. Her mind really had wandered. Most of the others on the day shift in Pla
She caught a glance from Virlomi one of the late ones. The girl looked worried. That meant she probably had done something in response to the Briseis posting, and now feared repercussions. Well, she was right to worry. Who knew how Achilles would speak or write or act if he was pla
As far as Petra knew, she was the only one in Pla
One wall of his office was a 2D computer display, now showing a detailed map of the India-Burma border region. As reports came in from troops in the field and from satellites, it was updated by clerks, so Achilles could glance at it any time and see the best available intelligence on placement. Apart from that, the room was spartan. Two chairs-not comfortable ones-a table, a bookcase, and a cot. Petra suspected that somewhere on the base there was a comfortable suite of rooms with a soft bed that was never used. Whatever else Achilles was, he wasn't a hedonist. He never cared much about personal comfort, not that she had seen, anyway.
He didn't take his eyes off the map when she came in-but she was used to that. When he made a point of ignoring her, she took it as his perverse way of paying attention to her. It was when he looked right at her without seeing her that she felt truly invisible.
"The campaign's going very well," said Achilles.
"It's a stupid plan, and the Thai are going to cut it to shreds."
"They had a sort of coup a few minutes ago," said Achilles. "The commander of the Thai military blew up young Suriyawong. Terrible case of professional jealousy, apparently."
Petra tried to keep from showing her sadness at Suriyawong's death and her disgust at Achilles. "You're not seriously expecting me to believe you had nothing to do with it?"
"Well, they're blaming it on Indian spies, of course. But there were no Indian spies involved."
"Not even the Chakri?"
"Definitely not spying for India," said Achilles.
"For whom, then?"
Achilles laughed. "You're so untrusting. My Briseis."
She had to work at staying relaxed, at not betraying anything when he called her that.
"Ah, Pet, you are my Briseis, don't you realize?"
"Not really," said Petra. "Briseis was in somebody else's tent."
"Oh, I have your body with me, and I get the product of your brain, but your heart still belongs to someone else."
"It belongs to me," said Petra.
"It belongs to Hector," said Achilles. "But ... how can I bear to tell you this? Suriyawong was not alone in his office when the building was blown to bits. Another person contributed scraps of flesh and bone and a fine aerosol of blood to the general gore. Unfortunately, this means I can't drag his body around the walls of Troy."
Petra was sick inside. Had he heard her tell Virlomi, "I am Briseis"? And whom was he talking about, saying those things about Hector?
"Just tell me what you're talking about or don't," said Petra.
"Oh, don't tell me you haven't seen those little messages all over the forums," said Achilles. "About Briseis, and Guinevere, and every other tragic romantic heroine who got trapped with some overbearing bunduck."
"What about them?"
"You know who wrote them," said Achilles.
"Do IT'
"I forgot. You refuse to play guessing games. All right, it was Bean, and you knew that."
Petra felt unwanted emotions welling up-she suppressed them. If those messages were posted by Bean, then he had lived through the previous assassination attempt. But that would mean Bean was "HectorVictorious," and Achilles' little allegory meant that Bean was indeed in Bangkok, and Achilles had spotted him and tried again to kill him. He had died along with Suriyawong.
"I'm glad to have you to tell me what I know. It saves my having to actually use my own memory."
"I know it's tearing you up, my poor Pet. The fu
"Fine. Congratulations. You're a genius. Whatever it is you want me to say so you'll shut up and let me get some di
Talking rudely to Achilles was the only illusion of freedom Petra was able to retain. She figured it amused him. And she wasn't dumb enough to talk to him that way in front of anyone else.
"You had your heart set on Bean saving you, didn't you?" said Achilles. "That's why when old Graff sent that stupid request for information, you tipped that Virlomi kid to try responding to Bean."
Petra tasted despair. Achilles really did monitor everything.
"Come on, the water fountain's the most obvious place to bug," said Achilles.
"I thought you had important things to do."
"Nothing's more important in my life than you, Pet," said Achilles. "If I could just get you to come into my tent."
"You've kidnapped me twice. You watch me wherever I go. I don't know how I could be farther in your tent than I am."
"In ... my ... tent," said Achilles. "You're still my enemy."
"Oh, I forgot, I'm supposed to be so eager to please my captor that I surrender my volition to you."
"If I wanted that, I'd have you tortured, Pet," said Achilles. "But I don't want you that way."
"How kind of you."
"No, if I can't have you freely with me, as my friend and ally, then I'll just kill you. I'm not into torture."