Chapter 34: Episode 7-Ender's Game (8)
The boy's left arm was tended to, and it was placed in a temporary splint in a different part of the shuttle. Graff stayed at the front of cabin, and addressed us again.
"What are you, slow learners? In your feeble little minds, haven't you picked up one little fact? You were brought here to be SOLDIERS. In your old schools, in your old families, maybe you were the big shot, maybe you were tough, maybe you were smart. But we chose the best of the best, and that's the only kind of kid you're going to meet now. And when I tell you Ender Wiggin is the best in this launch, take a hint, my little dorklings. Don't mess with him. Little boys have died in Battle School before. Do I make myself clear?"
After that, the boy aside from me made sure that he wouldn't touch me.
(Don't mess with me, you little shits.)
Twenty minutes after the incident, we arrived at the Battle School. The shuttle docked, and we heard the announcement to unbuckle from our seats and to follow the senior officers. The nineteen boys went ahead of me first, and I lagged behind.
[You have recreated a scene from Ender's Game!]
[You have gained 20 points!]
"Was it a good fight, Ender?" Graff inquired cheerly.
"Well, I dislike how you set me up to be harassed. Technically, it was your fault. Sadly, your friendliness was a façade. For a second, I thought you were a friend."
[Constellation "Secretive Plotter" says that 6-year-old kids don't talk like you.]
(Shut up. Ender is supposed to be smart.)
"What gave you the idea that I was a friend, Ender?"
I shrugged indifferently and said, "Because you didn't really lie. Honesty is hard to find these days."
"I won't lie now, either," said Graff. "My job isn't to be friends. My job is to produce the best soldiers in the world. In the whole history of the world. We need a Napoleon. An Alexander. Except that Napoleon lost in the end, and Alexander flamed out and died young. We need a Julius Caesar, except that he made himself dictator, and died for it. My job is to produce such a creature, and all the men and women he'll need to help him. Nowhere in that does it say I have to make friends with children."
"So, it's okay to make all of those kids hate me?" I ask in jest.
"Yes, Ender. No one will respect you, but I made them. Now it's your time to step up and prove yourself. Or you can try to kiss their backsides to make them love you again. But there's another option: be the best, so that they have to respect you; that's the only way they will stop hating you. I told them you were the best. Now you damn better well be," Graff said seriously.
"Oh ho, but what if I can't?"
"Then too bad. Look, Ender, I'm sorry if you're lonely and afraid. But the buggers are out there. Ten billion, a hundred billion, a million billion of them, for all we know. With weapons we can't understand, and a willingness to use those weapons to wipe us out. It isn't the world at stake, Ender. Just us. Just humankind. As far as the rest of the biosphere is concerned, we could be wiped out and it would adjust, it would get on with the next step in evolution. But humanity doesn't want to die. As a species, we evolved to survive, and the way we do it is by straining and straining and - at last - every few generations, giving birth to a genius. The one who invents the wheel. And light. And flight. The one who builds a city, a nation, an empire. Do you understand any of this?"
"I do. You are going to make me that generational genius, you are gonna make me save humanity, and you are going to milk me dry, until I fall," I said snidely.
"Hm, you do understand. Let me put in bluntly: humans are only free until humanity needs them. Maybe humanity needs you to do something. Maybe humanity needs me - to find out what you're good for. We might both do despicable things, Ender, but if humankind survives, then we were good tools."
"Me oh my, what interesting viewpoints. Could we talk more about this over drinks as well?"
"We can when you go to Command School and become an officer."
"All right then."
"By the way, you aren't helping yourself at all by talking to me. The other boys are no doubt telling each other that old Ender Wiggin is back there licking up to Graff. If word gets around that you're a teachers' boy, you're iced for sure."
(In other words, he's telling me to piss off,) I reasoned.
"Good day then."
After that, I left Graff be.
(If the novel proceeds properly, then Graff will talk to Anderson, who is another teacher of Battle School. The dialogue between the two teachers will show that Graff will regret how he will manipulate Ender, and how he does consider himself Ender's friend. It essentially humanizes Graff.)
As I thought this, I continued to walk forward and look around. The floor and halls were made from a type of metal, and the gravity was very different than Earth's. I walked by a set of windows, and instead of seeing the blue-green planet below, I saw the infinite darkness that lay beyond.
(So, this is the fabled Battle School that I read about.)
My heart palpitated for a moment, but I quickly calmed myself down. After I was done staring, I continued to walk after the group.
***
I walked to a dormitory, where I - and the rest of the children - would be staying in. I looked in, and saw that the other boys I had chosen their bunks. The ceiling was strangely low; I could reach up and touch it.
(This is a child's room. Anyways, I need to choose the lower bunk by the door.)
I went straight towards it; the other boys stared at me.
(They don't know it, but this bunk is supposed to belong to the leader of the group or something.)
I sat down and looked at the locker that stood open at the foot of the bunk. There was a paper taped to the inside of the door.
-PLACE YOUR HAND ON THE SCANNER AT THE HEAD OF YOUR BUNK AND SPEAK YOUR NAME TWICE.
I found the scanner, which was a sheet of opaque plastic. I placed my hand on it and pondered what I should say. I made a decision, and I decided to stick by it. This damn novel simulation wanted to take my identity, but I would resist against it. This was the first step.
"Ender Nakamura," I said. After a pause, I said it again: "Ender Nakamura."
The scanner glowed green for a moment. I closed my locker and tried to open it, but found that I couldn't. After a thought, I placed my hand onto the scanner and said, "Ender Nakamura."
The locker opened, as well as three other compartments. One of the compartments contained four jumpsuits like the one I was wearing, and a single white one. Another compartment contained a small desk, the ones I saw at Ender's old school.
It was the largest compartment that contained the largest items. It appeared to be a spacesuit, which came with a helmet and gloves - but I knew what it was. There wasn't an airtight seal on this suit. In the novel, this was a battle suit, used in the Battle Room.
I touched the suit, and felt it's stiffness, and how it was thickly padded. There was also a pistol in the locker. It was a laser-gun, since the end was made with clear, solid glass. But I knew that it wasn't an actual lethal weapon. This was another accessory for the battle room. As I thought this, I heard a voice from behind.
"Not a laser," said a man. "But it has a tight enough beam. Well-focused. You can aim it and make a three-inch circle of light on a wall a hundred meters off."
I looked up, to see a man towering above all of the children here. They were an adult, who appeared kindly. They appeared in the form of the original actor, who was named Nonso Anozie. If I was correct, then their name was Sergeant Dap.
[Please proceed with your dialogue!]
(Oh, right. The original Ender didn't know what the laser gun was for, and what it did.)
"What's it for?" I asked.
"One of the games during recreation. Does anyone else have his locker open?" He inquired as he looked around. "I mean, have you followed directions and coded in your voices and hands? You can't get into the lockers until you do. This room is your home for the first year or so of Battle School, so get the bunk you want and stay with it. Ordinarily, we let you elect your chief officer and install him in the lower bunk by the door, but - apparently - that position has already been taken. Can't recode the lockers now. So think about whom you want to choose. Dinner in seven minutes. Follow the lighted dots on the floor. Your color code is red-yellow-yellow. Whenever you're assigned a path to follow, it will be red-yellow-yellow, three dots side by side - go where those lights indicate. What's your color code, boys?"
"Red-yellow-yellow," we all said.
"Very good. My name is Dap. I'm your mom for the next few months."
The boys laughed at his joke. I didn't care for it, though.
After that, Dap elaborated the rules of Battle School, such as what would happen if we became lost, and why we should avoid the older children who detest "Launchies" such as us. He also said murder was prohibited, as well as deliberate injury. If those things happened, we would be "iced out." It meant we would be sent back to Earth, and be prohibited from Battle School.
(I'll have to calm my anger. If something happens, the simulation might forcibly end. I don't know what will happen to me then,) I thought.
After Dap left, the boys began to socialize. I was alone though. The sadness from the shuttle ride came back, and began to gnaw at me. I turned to the boy whose arm I broke. I didn't feel sorry for him. He was like all the bullies I've encountered in my life. He would gather a group of friends who could be easily manipulated, and set himself as a tyrant.
(He'll ruin my life here at every opportunity. I'll have to take him down like Ender did in the novel.)
I lied down onto my bunk, and closed my eyes. I couldn't go to sleep yet.
(Ender was surrounded by a group of Peters, without a Valentine. I'm surrounded by a group of bullies, but without my mom to protect me. It's time to grow up.)
After a few minutes had passed, we filed into a line and entered the mess hall. As we ate, all the boys made their cliques again, and I was left all alone.
(It reminds me when I self-isolated myself from the other classmates at Lister Elementary. I would always sit away from them on different cafeteria tables.)
Mainly, it was due to being sick and tired of going to two different schools, and only staying there for a year. I didn't want to make any friends, or form other connections again. Alas, the situation I was in right now wasn't too different from then.
I observed the mess hall. There were large scoreboards, which had team names next to numbers.
(They seem to be the pretend armies that fight each other. The numbers must show Battle Room scores.)
I saw kids talking to each other, and they were all adorned in different uniforms. They were the older children, ranging from twelve to thirteen. All the Launchies I saw wore blue uniforms; it seemed that they needed to join an army before receiving a different one.
After eating for a bit, an older kid came to sit next to me. Originally, I would regard him as an equal, but I was still six. It meant that I would have to treat him with respect, which I didn't really want to. We talked for a bit. He called me the "bugger" of the group. The kid that is always isolated, probably due to the teachers. He compared myself to him, and regarded himself as a failure that wouldn't even have a chance at Tactical School. He said I would end up like him, then told me to eat after he deemed me to be a smart-mouth.
(I'm not going to be like you, Mick. I'm not going to be a failure again. The teachers won't allow it too.)
I didn't want to be like Mick. People like him - people who held despair towards the world - were the ones who died first. The parasites like me were the ones who survived by adapting. I continued to eat as I thought these things.
***
After we ate, we went to an orientation to become acquainted with Battle School. We took a small tour, and then went back to our dorm to sleep. It was lights out.
I was trying to sleep, but the other boys were sobbing. I could hear them cry for their mothers and fathers, or for their friends and pets. Who would I cry for?
(Maybe for George. I wonder how his simulation is going.)
Was George okay? Was he surviving "The Last Samurai?" Did he learn anything new, did he find inner peace like Nathen Algren? I hoped so.
I tried to reflect on my past. I tried to think of the few friends I had before the scenario came, but a lot of the memories weren't there. Maybe it was Fragment of the 4th Wall, or maybe it was due to my lack of emotion. When I thought about them, I could only feel regret: they all died during the First Main Scenario.
That was one of the reasons why I killed people during the sub-scenario. They probably killed my friends to survive... or maybe I was throwing a murderous tantrum because my friends died in the first place.
All I know is... I couldn't find it within myself to cry. I hated crying. Whenever my mother would slap me, I would cry hot tears, and my face would turn beet-red. Then she would hit me again for doing so. The only time I cried for the first few times in my life was when my mother scolded me horribly; she accused me of being a disgusting, negative person who would never be happy.
(I'm just a bloody realist, though. It's my mother who's too naïve and positive.)
It happened earlier this year, before I turned fifteen. I got into an argument with her about our ideals, and trapped myself in my room, and cried silent tears into my pillow. Another time I cried was late at night, when I was taking an online class for my school. I was so stressed out and... angry. After those two times, I promised I wouldn't cry again. I hated it; to be so sad and out of control.
So, when Sergeant Dap came in to comfort the weeping, scared children, he found my still, breathing body, without a speck of water on my face.
(Thank you, mom,) I thought before I ventured into my dreams. (I least you taught me to hide my emotions well.)
Within the novel, I think Ender thanked Peter for teaching him how to cry silent tears, and how to hide his pain. Maybe Ender and I weren't too different. After contemplating this, I finally fell asleep.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
EnderGolem997
EnderGolem997 Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more bloody motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up goddamnit!
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