Ender’s Game

All Ender could see, though, was the way Bonzo looked as Ender kicked upward into his groin. The empty, dead look in his eyes. He was already finished then. Already unconscious. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t thinking or moving anymore, just that dead, stupid look on his face, that terrible look, the way Stilson looked when I finished with him.

“They’ll ice him, though,” Dink said. “Everybody knows he started it. I saw them get up and leave the commanders’ mess. Took me a couple of seconds to realize you weren’t there, either, and then a minute more to find out where you had gone. I told you not to be alone.”

“Sorry.”

“They’re bound to ice him. Troublemaker. Him and his stinking honor.”

Then, to Dink’s surprise, Ender began to cry. Lying on his back, still soaking wet with sweat and water, he gasped his sobs, tears seeping out of his closed eyelids and disappearing in the water on his face.

“Are you all right?”

“I didn’t want to hurt him!” Ender cried. “Why didn’t he just leave me alone!”

He heard his door open softly, then close. He knew at once that it was his battle instructions. He opened his eyes, expecting to find the darkness of early morning, before 0600. Instead, the lights were on, He was naked and when he moved the bed was soaking wet. His eyes were puffy and painful from crying. He looked at the clock on his desk. 1820, it said. It’s the same day. I already had a battle today. I had two battles today―the bastards know what I’ve been through, and they’re doing this to me.

He sat on the edge of the bed. The note trembled in his hand. I can’t do this, he said silently. And then not silently. “I can’t do this.”

He got up, bleary, and looked for his flash suit. Then he remembered―he had put it in the cleaner while he showered. It was still there.

Holding the paper, he walked out of his room. Di

Ho, Ender. There go

Ender handed the paper to Hot Soup. “Those sons of bitches,” he said. “Two at once?”

“Two armies!” shouted Crazy Tom.

“They’ll just trip over each other,” said Bean.

“I’ve got to clean up,” Ender said. “Get them ready, get everybody together. I’ll meet you there, at the gate.”

He walked out of the barracks. A tumult of conversation rose behind him. He heard Crazy Tom scream, “Two farteating armies! We’ll whip their butts!”

The bathroom was empty. All cleaned up. None of the blood that poured from Bonzo’s nose into the shower water. All gone. Nothing bad ever happened here.

Ender stepped under the water and rinsed himself, took the sweat of combat and let it run down the drain. All gone, except they recycled it and we’ll be drinking Bonzo’s bloodwater in the morning. All the life gone out of it, but his blood just the same, his blood and my sweat, washed down in their stupidity or cruelty or whatever it was that made them let it happen.

He dried himself, dressed in his flash suit, and walked to the battleroom. His army was waiting in the corridor, the door still not opened. They watched him in silence as he walked to the front to stand by the blank grey forcefield. Of course they all knew about his fight in the bathroom today; that and their own weariness from the battle that morning kept them quiet, while the knowledge that they would be facing two armies filled them with dread.

Everything they can do to beat me, thought Ender. Everything they can think of, change all the rules, they don’t care, just so they beat me. Well, I’m sick of the game. No game is worth Bonzo’s blood pinking the water on the bathroom floor. Ice me, send me home, I don’t want to play anymore.

The door disappeared. Only three meters out there were four stars together, completely blocking the view from the door.

Two armies weren’t enough. They had to make Ender deploy his forces blind.

“Bean,” said Ender. “Take your boys and tell me what’s on the other side of this star.”

Bean pulled the coil of twine from his waist, tied one end around him, handed the other end to a boy in his squad, and stepped gently through the door. His squad quickly followed. They had practiced this several times, and it took only a moment before they were braced on the star, holding the end of the twine. Bean pushed off at great speed, in a line almost parallel to the door; when he reached the corner of the room, he pushed off again and rocketed straight out toward the enemy. The spots of light on the wall showed that the enemy was shooting at him. As the rope was stopped by each edge of the star in turn, his arc became tighter, his direction changed, and he became an impossible target to hit. His squad caught him neatly as he came around the star from the other side. He moved all his arms and legs so those waiting inside the door would know that the enemy hadn’t flashed him anywhere.

Ender dropped through the gate.

“It’s really dim,” said Bean, “but light enough you can’t follow people easily by the lights on their suits. Worst possible for seeing. It’s all open space from this star to the enemy side of the room. They’ve got eight stars making a square around their door. I didn’t see anybody except the ones peeking around the boxes. They’re just sitting there waiting for us.”

As if to corroborate Bean’s statement, the enemy began to call out to them. “Hey! We be hungry, come and feed us! Your ass is draggin’! Your ass is Dragon!”

Ender’s mind felt dead. This was stupid. He didn’t have a chance, outnumbered two to one and forced to attack a protected enemy. “In a real war, any commander with brains at all would retreat and save his army.”

“What the hell,” said Bean. “It’s only a game.”

“It stopped being a game when they threw away the rules.”

“So, you throw ‘em away, too.”

Ender gri

Bean was appalled. “A formation! We’ve never done a formation in the whole time we’ve been an army!”

“We’ve still got a month to go before our training period is normally supposed to end. About time we started doing formations. Always have to know formations.” He formed an A with his fingers, showed it to the blank door, and beckoned. A toon quickly emerged and Ender began arranging them behind the star. Three meters wasn’t enough room to work in, the boys were frightened and confused, and it took nearly five minutes just to get them to understand what they were doing.

Tiger and Griffin soldiers were reduced to chanting catcalls, while their commanders argued about whether to try to use their overwhelming force to attack Dragon Army while they were still behind the star. Momoe was all for attacking―”We outnumber him two to one”―while Bee said, “Sit tight and we can’t lose, move out and he can figure out a way to beat us.”

So they sat tight, until finally in the dusky light they saw a large mass slip out from behind Ender’s star. It held its shape, even when it abruptly stopped moving sideways and launched itself toward the dead center of the eight stars where eighty-two soldiers waited.

“Doobie doo,” said a Griffin. “They’re doing a formation.”

“They must have been putting that together for all five minutes,” said Momoe. “If we’d attacked while they were doing it, we could’ve destroyed them.”

“Eat it, Momoe,” whispered Bee. “You saw the way that little kid flew. He went all the way around the star and back behind without ever touching a wall. Maybe they’ve all got hooks, did you think of that? They’ve got something new there.”