“If she's like us,” said Miro, “like human beings, then her connections can shift and split. Like when that mob formed around Grego. I've talked to him about how that felt. As if those people were all part of his body. And when they broke away and went off on their own, he felt as if he had gone through an amputation. I think that was philotic twining. I think those people really did connect to him for a while, they really were partly under his control, part of his self. So maybe Jane is like that, too, all those computer programs twined up to her, and she herself connected to whoever she has that kind of allegiance to. Maybe you, Andrew. Maybe me. Or partly both of us.”
“But where is she,” said Ender. “If she actually has a philote– no, if she actually is a philote– then it has to have a specific location, and if we could find it, maybe we could keep the connections alive even when all the computers are cut off from her. Maybe we can keep her from dying.”
“I don't know,” said Miro. “She could be anywhere.” He gestured toward the display. Anywhere in space, is what he meant. Anywhere in the universe. And there in the display was Jane's head, with the philotic rays passing through it.
“To find out where she is, we have to find out how and where she began,” said Ender. “If she really is a philote, she got connected up somehow, somewhere.”
“A detective following up a three-thousand-year-old trail,” said Jane. “Won't this be fun, watching you do all this in the next few months.”
Ender ignored her. “And if we're going to do that, we have to figure out how philotes work in the first place.”
“Grego's the physicist,” said Miro.
“He's working on faster-than-light travel,” said Jane.
“He can work on this, too,” said Miro.
“I don't want him distracted by a project that can't succeed,” said Jane.
“Listen, Jane, don't you want to live through this?” said Ender.
“I can't anyway, so why waste time?”
“She's just being a martyr,” said Miro.
“No I'm not,” said Jane. “I'm being practical.”
"You're being a fool," said Ender. "Grego can't come up with a theory to give us faster-than-light travel just by sitting and thinking about the physics of light, or whatever. If it worked that way, we would have achieved faster-than-light travel three thousand years ago, because there were hundreds of physicists working on it then, back when philotic rays and the Park Instantaneity Principle were first thought of. If Grego thinks of it it's because of some flash of insight, some absurd connection he makes in his mind, and
that won't come from concentrating intelligently on a single train of thought."
“I know that,” said Jane.
“I know you know it. Didn't you tell me you were bringing those people from Path into our projects for that specific reason? To be untrained, intuitive thinkers?”
“I just don't want you to waste time.”
“You just don't want to get your hopes up,” said Ender. “You just don't want to admit that there's a chance that you might live, because then you'd start to fear death.”
“I already fear death.”
“You already think of yourself as dead,” said Ender. “There's a difference.”
“I know,” murmured Miro.
“So, dear Jane, I don't care whether you're willing to admit that there's a possibility of your survival or not,” said Ender. “We will work on this, and we will ask Grego to think about it, and while we're at it, you will repeat our entire conversation here to those people on Path–”
“Han Fei-tzu and Si Wang-mu.”
“Them,” said Ender. “Because they can be thinking about this, too.”
“No,” said Jane.
“Yes,” said Ender.
“I want to see the real problems solved before I die– I want Lusitania to be saved, and the godspoken of Path to be freed, and the descolada to be tamed or destroyed. And I won't have you slowing that down by trying to work on the impossible project of saving me.”
“You aren't God,” said Ender. “You don't know how to solve any of these problems anyway, and so you don't know how they're going to be solved, and so you have no idea whether finding out what you are in order to save you will help or hurt those other projects, and you certainly don't know whether concentrating on those other problems will get them solved any sooner than they would be if we all went on a picnic today and played lawn tennis till sundown.”
“What the hell is lawn tennis?” asked Miro.
But Ender and Jane were silent, glaring at each other. Or rather, Ender was glaring at the image of Jane in the computer display, and that image was glaring back at him.
“You don't know that you're right,” said Jane.
“And you don't know that I'm wrong,” said Ender.
“It's my life,” said Jane.
“The hell it is,” said Ender. “You're part of me and Miro, too, and you're tied up with the whole future of humanity, and the pequeninos and the hive queen too, for that matter. Which reminds me– while you're having Han what's-his-name and Si Wang whoever-she-is–”
“Mu.”
“–work on this philotic thing, I'm going to talk to the hive queen. I don't think I've particularly discussed you with her. She's got to know more about philotes than we do, since she has a philotic connection with all her workers.”
“I haven't said I'm going to involve Han Fei-tzu and Si Wang-mu in your silly save-Jane project.”
“But you will,” said Ender.
“Why will I?”
“Because Miro and I both love you and need you and you have no right to die on us without at least trying to live.”
“I can't let things like that influence me.”
“Yes you can,” said Miro. “Because if it weren't for things like that I would have killed myself long ago.”
“I'm not going to kill myself.”
“If you don't help us try to find a way to save you, then that's exactly what you're doing,” said Ender.
Jane's face disappeared from the display over the terminal.
“Running away won't help, either,” said Ender.
“Leave me alone,” said Jane. “I have to think about this for a while.”
“Don't worry, Miro,” said Ender. “She'll do it.”
“That's right,” said Jane.
“Back already?” asked Ender.
“I think very quickly.”
“And you're going to work on this, too?”
“I consider it my fourth project,” said Jane. “I'm telling Han Fei-tzu and Si Wang-mu about it right now.”
“She's showing off,” said Ender. “She can carry on two conversations at once, and she likes to brag about it to make us feel inferior.”
“You are inferior,” said Jane.
“I'm hungry,” said Ender. “And thirsty.”
“Lunch,” said Miro.
“Now you're bragging,” said Jane. “Showing off your bodily functions.”
“Alimentation,” said Ender. “Respiration. Excretion. We can do things you can't do.”
“In other words, you can't think very well, but at least you can eat and breathe and sweat.”
“That's right,” said Miro. He pulled out the bread and cheese while Ender poured the cold water, and they ate. Simple food, but it tasted good and they were satisfied.