Shadow of the Giant by Orson Scott Card
And it seemed to work. He certainly returned the kiss.
It was going as she expected. The gods were with her.
"Let's sit down," said Peter.
But to her surprise, what he indicated was the table, not the soft chairs. Not the wide one, where they could have sat together.
The table, where they would have a slab of wood--something cold and smooth, anyway--between them.
When they were seated, Peter looked at her quizzically. "Is that really what you came all this way for?"
"What did you think?" she said.
"I hoped it had something to do with India ratifying the FPE Constitution."
"I haven't read it," she said. "But you must know India doesn't surrender its sovereignty easily."
"It'll be easy enough, if you ask the Indian people to vote for it."
"But, you see, I need to know what India gets in return."
"What every nation in the FPE receives. Peace. Protection. Free trade. Human rights and elections."
"That's what you give to Nigeria," said Virlomi.
"That's what we give to Vanuatu and Kiribati, too. And the United States and Russia and China and, yes, India, when they choose to join us."
"India is the most populous nation on Earth. And she's spent the past three years fighting for her survival. She needs more than mere protection. She needs a special place near the center of power."
"But I'm not the center of power," said Peter. "I'm not a king."
"I know who you are," said Virlomi.
"Who am I?" He seemed amused.
"You're Genghis. Washington. Bismarck. A builder of empires. A uniter of peoples. A maker of nations."
"I'm the breaker of nations, Virlomi," said Peter. "We'll keep the word nation, but it will come to mean what state means in America. An administrative unit, but little more. India will have a great history, but from now on, we'll have human history."
"How very noble," said Virlomi. This was not going as she intended. "I think you don't understand what I'm offering you."
"You're offering me something I want very much--India in the FPE. But the price you want me to pay is too high."
"Price!" Was he really that stupid. "To have me is not a price you pay. It's a sacrifice I make."
"And who says romance is dead," said Peter. "Virlomi, you're a Battle Schooler. Surely you can see why it's impossible for me to marry my way into having India in the FPE."
Only then, in the moment of his challenge, did the whole thing become clear. Not the world as she saw it, centered on India, but the world as he saw it, with himself at the center of everything.
"So it's all about you," said Virlomi. "You can't share power with another."
"I can share power with everybody," said Peter, "and I already am. Only a fool thinks he can rule alone. You can only rule by the willing obedience and cooperation of those you supposedly rule over. They have to want you to lead them. And if I married you--attractive as the offer is on every count--I would no longer be seen as an honest broker. Instead of trusting me to lead the FPE's foreign and military policy to the benefit of the whole world, I would be seen as tilting everything toward India."
"Not everything," she said.
"More than everything," said Peter. "I would be seen as the tool of India. You can be sure that Caliph Alai would immediately declare war, not just on India, which has his troops all over it, but on the FPE. I'd be faced with bloody war in Sudan and Nubia, which I don't want."
"Why would you fear it?"
"Why wouldn't I?" he said.
"You have Bean," she said. "How can Alai stand against you?"
"Well," said Peter, "if Bean is so all powerful and irresistible, why do I need you?"
"Because Bean can never be as fully trusted as a wife. And Bean doesn't bring you a billion people."
"Virlomi," said Peter, "I'd be a fool to trust you, wife or not. You wouldn't be bringing India into the FPE, you'd be bringing the FPE into India."
"Why not a partnership?"
"Because gods don't need mortal partners," said Peter. "You've been a god too long. There's no man you can marry, as long as you think you're elevating him just by letting him touch you."
"Don't say what you can't unsay," said Virlomi.
"Don't make me say what's so hard to hear," said Peter. "I'm not going to compromise my leadership of the whole FPE just to get one country to join."
He meant it. He actually thought his position was above hers. He thought he was greater than India! Greater than a god! That he would diminish himself by taking what she offered.
But now there was nothing more to say to him. She wouldn't waste time with idle threats. She'd show him what she could do to those who wanted India for an enemy.
He rose to his feet. "I'm sorry that I didn't anticipate your offer," said Peter. "I wouldn't have wasted your time. I had no desire to embarrass you. I thought you would have understood my situation better."
"I'm just one woman. India is just one country."
He winced just a little. He didn't like having his foolish, arrogant words thrown in his face. Well, you'll have more than that thrown at you, Ender's Brother.
"I brought two others to see you," said Peter. "If you're willing."
He opened a door and Colonel Graff and a man she didn't know entered the room. "Virlomi, I think you know Minister Graff. And this is Mazer Rackham."
She inclined her head, showing no surprise.
They sat down and explained their offer.
"I already have the love and allegiance of the greatest nation on Earth," said Virlomi. "And I have not been defeated by the most terrible enemies that China and the Muslim world could hurl against me. Why should I wish to run and hide in a colony somewhere?"
"It's a noble work," said Graff. "It's not hiding, it's building."
"Termites build," said Virlomi.
"And hyenas tear," said Graff.
"I have no need for or interest in the service you offer," said Virlomi.
"No," said Graff, "you just don't see your need yet. You always were hard to get to change your way of looking at things. It's what held you back in Battle School, Virlomi."
"You're not my teacher now," said Virlomi.
"Well, you're certainly wrong about one thing, whether I'm your teacher or not," said Graff.
She waited.
"You have not yet faced the most terrible enemies that China and the Muslim world can hurl against you."
"Do you think Han Tzu can get into India again? I'm not Tikal Chapekar."
"And he's not the Politburo or Snow Tiger."
"He's Ender's Jeeshmate," she said in mock awe.
"He's not caught up in his own mystique," said Rackham, who had not spoken till now. "For your own sake, Virlomi, take a good hard look in the mirror. You're what megalomania looks like in the early stages."
"I have no ambition for myself," said Virlomi.
"If you define India as whatever you conceive it to be," said Rackham, "you'll wake up some terrible morning and discover that it is not what you need it to be."
"And you say this from your vast experience of governing...what country was it, now, Mr. Rackham?"
Rackham only smiled. "Pride, when poked, gets petty."
"Was that already a proverb?" asked Virlomi. "Or should I write it down?"
"The offer stands," said Graff. "It's irrevocable as long as you live."
"Why don't you make the same offer to Peter?" asked Virlomi. "He's the one who needs to take the long voyage."
She decided she wasn't going to get a better exit line than that, so she walked slowly, gracefully, to the door. No one spoke as she departed.
Her sailors helped her back into the rowboat and cast off. Peter did not come to the rail to wave her off; just another discourtesy, not that she would have acknowledged him even if he had. As for Graff and Rackham, they'd soon enough be coming to her for funding--no, for permission to operate their little colony ministry.
She rode a train back to Hyderabad, passing for an ordinary citizen--if any Muslim soldiers should be so bold as to search the train. But the people knew who she was. Whose face was better known in all of India? And not being Muslim, she didn't have to cover her face.
The first thing I will do, when I rule India, is change the name of Hyderabad. Not back to Bhagnagar--even though it was named for an Indian woman, the name was bestowed by the Muslim prince who destroyed the original Indian village in order to build the Charminar, a monument to his own power, supposedly in honor of his beloved Hindu wife.
India will never again be obliterated in order to appease the power lust of Muslims. The new name of Hyderabad will be the original name of the village: Chichlam.
She made her way from the train station to a safe house in the city, and from there her aides helped get her back inside the hut where she had supposedly been meditating and praying for India for the three days she had been gone. There she slept for a few hours.
Then she arose and sent an aide to bring her an elegant but simple sari, one that she knew she could wear with grace and beauty, and which would show off her slim body to best advantage. When she had it arranged to her satisfaction, and her hair was arranged properly, she walked from her hut to the gate of Hyderabad.
The soldiers at the checkpoint gawped at her. No one had ever expected her to try to enter, and they had no idea what to do.
While they went through their flurry of asking their superiors inside the city what they should do, Virlomi simply walked inside. They dared not stop her or challenge her--they didn't want to be responsible for starting a war.
She knew this place as well as anyone, and knew which building housed Caliph Alai's headquarters. Though she walked gracefully, without hurry, it took little time for her to get there.
Again, she paid no attention to guards or clerks or secretaries or important Muslim officers. They were nothing to her. By now they must have heard Alai's decision; and his decision was obviously to let her pass, for no one obstructed her.
Wise choice.
One young officer even trotted along ahead of her, opening doors and indicating which way she should go.
He led her into a large room where Alai stood waiting for her, with a dozen high officers standing along the walls.
She walked to the middle of the room. "Why are you afraid of one lone woman, Caliph Alai?"
Before he had time to answer the obvious truth--that far from being afraid, he had let her pass unmolested and uninspected through his headquarters complex and into his own presence--Virlomi began to unwrap her sari. It took only a moment or two before she stood naked before him. Then she reached up and loosened her long hair, and then swung it and combed her fingers through it. "You see that I have no weapon hidden here. India stands before you, naked and defenseless. Why do you fear her?"
Alai had averted his eyes as soon as it became clear that she was undressing. So had the more pious of the other officers. But some apparently thought it was their responsibility to make sure that she was, in fact, weaponless. She enjoyed their consternation, their embarrassment--and, she suspected, their desire. You came here to ravish India, didn't you? And yet I am out of your reach. Because I'm not here for you, underlings. I'm here for your master.
"Leave us," Alai said to the other men.
Even the most modest of them could not help but glance at her as they shuffled out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.
The door closed behind them. She and Alai were alone.
"Very symbolic, Virlomi," said Alai, still refusing to look at her. "That will get talked about."
"The offer I make is both symbolic and tangible," she said. "This upstart Peter Wiggin has gone as far as he should go. Why should Muslim and Hindu be enemies, when together we have the power to crush his naked ambition?"
"His ambition isn't as naked as you are," said Alai. "Please put on clothing so I can look at you."
"May not a man look at his bride?"
Alai chuckled. "A dynastic marriage? I thought you already told Han Tzu what he could do with that idea."
"Han Tzu had nothing to offer me. You are the leader of the Muslims of India. A large portion of my people torn away from mother India in fruitless hostility. And why? Look at me, Alai."
Either the force of her voice had power over him, or he could not resist his desire, or perhaps he simply decided that since they were alone, he need not keep up the show of perfect rectitude.
He looked her up and down, casually, without reaction. As he did, she raised her arms above her head and turned around. "Here is India," she said, "no longer resisting you, no longer evading you, but welcoming you, married to you, fertile soil in which to plant a new civilization of Muslim and Hindu united."
She faced him again.
He continued to look at her, not bothering to keep his eyes only on her face. "You do intrigue me," he said.
I should think so, she answered silently. Muslims never have the virtue they pretend to have.
"I must consider this," he said.
"No," she said.
"You think I'll make up my mind in an instant?"
"I don't care. But I will leave this room in moments. Either I'll do it dressed in that sari, as your bride, or I'll do it naked, leaving my clothing behind. Naked I'll pass through your compound, and naked I'll return to my people. Let them decide what they think was done to me within these walls."
"You'd provoke such a war as that?" said Alai.
"Your presence in India is the provocation, Caliph. I offer you peace and unity between our peoples. I offer you the permanent alliance that will enable us, together, India and Islam, to unite the world in a single government and along the way cast Peter Wiggin aside. He was never worthy of his brother's name; he's wasted enough of the time and attention of the world."
She walked closer to him, until her knees touched his.
"You have to deal with him eventually, Caliph Alai. Will you do it with India in your bed and by your side, or will you do it while most of your forces have to remain here to keep us from destroying you from behind? Because I'll do it. Either we're lovers or enemies, and the time to choose is now."
He made no idle threat to detain her or kill her--he knew that he could no more do that than let her walk out of the compound naked. The real question was whether he would be a grudging husband or an enthusiastic one.
He reached out and took her hand.
"You've chosen wisely, Caliph Alai," she said. She leaned down and kissed him. The same kiss she had given Peter Wiggin, and which he had treated as if it were nothing.
Alai returned it warmly. His hands moved on her body.
"Marriage first," she said.
"Let me guess," he said. "You want the wedding now."
"In this room."
"Will you dress so we can show video of the ceremony?"
She laughed and kissed his cheek. "For publicity, I'll dress."
She started to walk away, but he caught her hand, drew her back, kissed her again, passionately this time. "This is a good idea," he said to her. "It's a bold idea. It's a dangerous idea. But it's a good one."
"I'll stand beside you in everything," she said.
"Not ahead," he said. "Not behind, not above, not below."
She embraced him and kissed his headdress. Then she pulled it off his head and kissed his hair.
"Now I'll have to go to all the trouble of putting that back on," he said.
You'll take whatever trouble I want you to take, she thought. I have just had a victory here today, in this room, Caliph Alai. You and your Allah may not realize it, but the gods of India rule in this place, and they have given me victory without another soldier dying in useless war.
Such fools they were in Battle School, to le
18
YEREVAN
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Re: Can't believe you're at this address
When Bean told me what happened at that meeting, I thought: I know one guy who's never going to go along with any plan of Graff's.
Then I got your letter informing me of your change of address. And then I thought some more and realized: There's no place on Earth where Dink Meeker is going to fit in. You have too much ability to be content anywhere that they're likely to let you serve.
But I think you were wrong to refuse to be the head of the colony you're joining. Partly it's because: Who's going to do it better than you? Don't make me laugh.
But the main reason is: What kind of living hell will it be for the colony leader to have Mr. Insubordinate in his colony? Especially because everybody will know you were in Ender's Jeesh and they'll wonder why you AREN'T leader...
I don't care how loyal you think you're going to be, Dink. It's not in you. You're a brat and you always will be. So admit what a lousy follower you are, and go ahead and LEAD.
And just in case you don't know it, you stupidest of all possible geniuses: I still love you. I've always loved you. But no woman in her right mind would ever marry you and have your babies because NOBODY COULD STAND TO RAISE THEM. You will have the most hellish children. So have them in a colony where there'll be someplace for them to go when they run away from home about fifteen times before they're ten.
Dink, I'm going to be happy, in the long run. And yes, I did set myself up for hard times when I married a man who's going to die and whose children will probably have the same disease. But Dink--nobody ever marries anybody who ISN'T going to die.
God be with you, my friend. Heaven knows the devil already is.
Love, Petra
Bean held two babies and Petra one on the flight from Kiev to Yerevan--whichever one was hungriest got mama. Petra's parents lived there now; by the time Achilles died and they could return to Armenia, the tenants in their old home in Maralik had changed it too much for them to want to return.
Besides, Stefan, Petra's younger brother, was quite the world traveler now, and Maralik was too small for him. Yerevan, while not what anyone would call one of the great world cities, was still a national capital, and it had a university worth studying at, when he graduated from high school.