Children of the Fleet (Fleet School #1)(118)

“Congratulations,” said Dabeet to Robota.

“And I wanted you to know that I was the one who arranged for Robota Smirnova to be withdrawn from Fleet School during the weeks before the arrival of the terrorists,” said Graff. “She wanted to be aboard the station with a beefed-up security force, but it was my belief that the only result of that would have been the needless death of many on both sides, including, in all likelihood, faculty and children.”

“I think if there had been resistance of that kind, sir,” said Dabeet, “the explosives would have been detonated much sooner.”

“That’s a reasonable conclusion,” said Graff.

“Damn right,” said Robota. “I hated the orders I got, but I obeyed them, and because of you, Dabeet, everything worked out well. I’ll leave you two now, and go present my new credentials to the faculty and staff.” She was already at the door by the time she finished speaking. It closed behind her.

“She’s a good officer,” said Graff. “When she helped you open a door, she was not acting under my orders. She made the right decision, don’t you think?”

Dabeet could only shrug. She should have been court-martialed for it. But if it helped keep Mother alive, Dabeet was glad that Robota had done it.

“I need to ask you to make a decision, and you don’t have much time to make it. Your position here in Fleet School has become complicated. There will be a court of inquiry and your name will be all over it. If you’re needed for examination or testimony, that will take priority, of course, but it shouldn’t interfere with your studies here.”

Dabeet said nothing, as he tried to figure out where this was leading. He was trying not to jump to conclusions.

“Details of your actions will be known throughout the Fleet, but not on Earth. I can return you to Earth at any time, to resume normal schooling there—if any schooling that involves you can be called ‘normal.’ In other words, you can escape from whatever public opinion gathers about you and your actions.”

“But I can also stay here, if I choose?”

Graff obviously understood that this was Dabeet’s immediate choice. “Why would you stay?” he asked.

“I’d like to say something noble, like, ‘If Ender Wiggin couldn’t return to Earth after saving all of humanity from the Formics, how can it be right for me to go back when all I did was push a dangerous ship away from the school?’”

“Very noble indeed,” said Graff. “And complete goffno, if I’m using the word correctly.”

“I don’t want to leave here,” said Dabeet, “because for the first time in my life, I have friends.”

“Not everybody will be your friend, after the inquiry’s results are published through the Fleet.”

“I don’t need everybody to be my friend,” said Dabeet. “I’m pretty astonished that anybody is, and I like it, and I want to stay.”

“They’re a good group,” said Graff.

“Is it possible I could go home just long enough to see Mother?” asked Dabeet. “And then come back here?”

“Let’s be reasonable,” said Graff. “Nobody else gets to go to Earth to—”

“With all due respect, sir, people whose families are in space have the chance for annual visits, at least. And if I can’t go there, perhaps she could come here. Or somewhere nearby.”

Graff studied Dabeet intently. “You do remember that she’s not actually your mother.”

“She’s the only mother I have,” said Dabeet.

“She’s an officer of the Fleet. She was assigned to you, Dabeet. The assignment is over, and she’ll be given new responsibilities somewhere else.”

Dabeet felt this as a slap in the face. But then he took time to think. “That’s bullshit, sir. She loved me. She cared about me. She didn’t just switch that off because she got a new assignment.”

Graff raised his eyebrows. “You’re probably right. I’ll check with her and see what she wants to do. If she’s willing, then something can be arranged. But you must understand that there was never a legal adoption. You have no legal claim on her, nor she on you.”

Dabeet sat down across from Graff. “Let me sort this out a little, sir. Am I to understand that I’m legally an orphan, a ward of the state? And my time being raised by Rafa Ochoa constituted kidnapping, under your authority?”

“It was under Fleet authority, not mine,” said Graff.

“A distinction without a difference, I’m guessing.”

“You’re guessing incorrectly,” said Graff. “You are not an orphan.”

“I don’t know of any living parents.”

“You may feel like an orphan, and that’s tragic,” said Graff. “I weep for all the children who are in such a situation. The children of all the soldiers and pilots who traveled with the fleets that conquered the Formic empire grew up with no hope of ever seeing their missing parents.”

“They knew who they were,” said Dabeet, “and they knew where they were, and what they were doing. They knew what their sacrifice was about.”

“Then let me assure you of this. Your parents are alive. They both know that you’re alive. They are distressed at the necessity that keeps them from being a part of your life.”