"I don't think there's any way to do that without telling him that we're on to his fake teacher log-in."
"So tell him."
"Then he won't believe anything he found while searching."
"He didn't find anything," said Graff. "We didn't have to plant anything fake for him to find, because he had his false theory. See? So whether he thinks we planted stuff or not, he'll stay deceived and we're still secure."
"You seem to be counting on your understanding of his psychology."
"Sister Carlotta assures me that he differs from ordinary human DNA in only one small area."
"So now he's human again?"
"I've got to make decisions based on something, Dimak!"
"So the jury's still out on the human thing?"
"Get me a roster of the hypothetical army Bean would pick, so we can give it to Ender."
"He'll put himself in it, you know."
"He damn well better, or he's not as smart as we've been thinking."
"What about Ender? Is he ready?"
"Anderson thinks he is." Graff sighed. "To Bean, it's still just a game, because none of the weight has fallen on him yet. But Ender ... I think he knows, deep down, where this is going to lead. I think he feels it already."
"Sir, just because you're feeling the weight doesn't mean he is."
Graff laughed. "You cut straight to the heart of things, don't you!"
"Bean's hungry for it, sir. If Ender isn't, then why not put the burden where it's wanted?"
"If Bean's hungry for it, it proves he's still too young. Besides, the hungry ones always have something to prove. Look at Napoleon. Look at Hitler. Bold at first, yes, but then still bold later on, when they need to cautious, to pull back. Patton. Caesar. Alexander. Always overreaching, never quite putting the finish on it. No, it's Ender, not Bean. Ender doesn't want to do it, so he won't have anything to prove."
"Are you sure you're not just picking the kind of commander you'd want to serve under?"
"That's precisely what I'm doing," said Graff. "Can you think of a better standard?"
"The thing is, you can't pass the buck on this one, can you? Can't say how it was the tests, you just followed the tests. The scores. Whatever."
"Can't run this like a machine."
"That's why you don't want Bean, isn't it? Because he was made, like a machine."
"I don't analyze myself. I analyze them."
"So if we win, who really won the war? The commander you picked? Or you, for picking him?"
"The Triumvirate, for trusting me. After their fashion. But if we lose ..."
"Well then it's definitely you."
"We're all dead then. What will they do? Kill me first? Or leave me till last so I can contemplate the consequences of my error?"
"Ender, though. I mean if he's the one. He won't say it's you. He'll take it all on himself. Not the credit for victory – just the blame for failure."
"Win or lose, the kid I pick is going to have a brutal time of it."
Bean got his summons during lunch. He reported at once to Dimak's quarters.
He found his teacher sitting at his desk, reading something. The light was set so that Bean couldn't read it through the dazzle.
"Have a seat," said Dimak.
Bean jumped up and sat on Dimak's bed, his legs dangling.
"Let me read you something," said Dimak. "'There are no fortifications, no magazines, no strong points ... In the enemy solar system, there can be no living off the land, since access to habitable planets will be possible only after complete victory ... Supply lines are not a problem, since there are none to protect, but the cost of that is that all supplies and ordnance must be carried with the invading fleet ... In effect, all interstellar invasion fleets are suicide attacks, because time dilation means that even if a fleet returns intact, almost no one they knew will still be alive. They can never return, and so must be sure that their force is sufficient to be decisive and therefore is worth the sacrifice.... Mixed-sex forces allow the possibility of the army becoming a permanent colony and/or occupying force on the captured enemy planet."
Bean listened complacently. He had left it in his desk for them to find it, and they had done so.
"You wrote this, Bean, but you never submitted it to anybody."
"There was never an assignment that it fit."
"You don't seem surprised that we found it."
"I assume that you routinely scan our desks."
"Just as you routinely scan ours?"
Bean felt his stomach twist with fear. They knew.
"Cute, naming your false log-in 'Graff' with a caret in front of it."
Bean said nothing.
"You've been scanning all the other students' records. Why?"
"I wanted to know them. I've only made friends with a few."
"Close friends with none."
"I'm little and I'm smarter than they are. Nobody's standing in line."
"So you use their records to tell you more about them. Why do you feel the need to understand them?"
"Someday I'll be in command of one of these armies."
"Plenty of time to get to know your soldiers then."
"No sir," said Bean. "No time at all."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because of the way I've been promoted. And Wiggin. We're the two best students in this school, and we're being raced through. I'm not going to have much time when I get an army."
"Bean, be realistic. It's going to be a long time before anybody's going to be willing to follow you into battle."
Bean said nothing. He knew that this was false, even if Dimak didn't. "Let's see just how good your analysis is. Let me give you an assignment."
"For which class?"
"No class, Bean. I want you to create a hypothetical army. Working only with launchies, construct an entire roster, the full complement of forty-one soldiers."
" No veterans?"
Bean meant the question neutrally, just checking to make sure he understood the rules. But Dimak seemed to take it as criticism of the unfairness of it. "No, tell you what, you can include veterans who are posted for transfer at their commanders' request. That'll give you some experienced ones."
The ones the commander couldn't work with. Some really were losers, but some were the opposite. "Fine," said Bean.
"How long do you think it will take you?"
Bean already had a dozen picked out. "I can tell the list to you right now."
"I want you to think about it seriously."
"I already have. But you need to answer a couple of questions first. You said forty-one soldiers, but that would include the commander."
"All right, forty, and leave the commander blank."
"I have another question. Am I to command the army?"
"You can write it up that way, if you want."
But Dimak's very unconcern told Bean that the army was not for him. "This army's for Wiggin, isn't it?"
Dimak glowered. "It's hypothetical."
"Definitely Wiggin," said Bean. "You can't boot somebody else out of command to make room for him, so you're giving Wiggin a whole new army. I bet it's Dragon."
Dimak looked stricken, though he tried to cover it.
"Don't worry," said Bean. "I'll give him the best army you can form, following those rules."
"I said this was hypothetical!"
"You think I wouldn't figure it out when I found myself in Wiggin's army and everybody else in it was also on my roster?"
"Nobody's said we're actually going to follow your roster!"
"You will. Because I'll be right and you'll know it," said Bean. "And I can promise you, it'll be a hell of an army. With Wiggin to train us, we'll kick ass."
"Just do the hypothetical assignment, and talk to no one about it. Ever."
That was dismissal, but Bean didn't want to be dismissed yet. They came to him. They were having him do their work. He wanted to have his say while they were still listening. "The reason this army can be so good is that your system's been promoting a lot of the wrong kids. About half the best kids in this school are launchies or on the transfer lists, because they're the ones who haven't already been beaten into submission by the kiss-ass idiots you put in command of armies or toons. These misfits and little kids are the ones who can win. Wiggin will figure that out. He'll know how to use us."