Maybe that was something that went along with whatever genetic alteration Graff had found out about.
She, they had said. She had raised the question of whether Bean was genetically human. Some woman who was searching for information, and Graff had given in, was letting her have access to facts that had been hidden from her. That meant that he would receive more answers from this woman as she began to use that new data. More answers about Bean's origins.
Could it be Sister Carlotta who had doubted Bean's humanity?
Sister Carlotta, who wept when he left her and went into space? Sister Carlotta, who loved him as a mother loves her child? How could she doubt him?
If they wanted to find some inhuman human, some alien in a human suit, they ought to take a good long look at a nun who embraces a child as her own, and then goes around casting doubt about whether he's a real boy. The opposite of Pinocchio's fairy. She touches a real boy and turns him into something awful and fearful.
It could not have been Sister Carlotta they were talking about. Just another woman. His guess that it might be her was simply wrong, just like his guess that the final battle with the Buggers had already happened. That's why Bean never fully trusted his own guesses. He acted on them, but always kept himself open to the possibility that his interpretations might be wrong.
Besides, his problem was not figuring out whether he really was human or not. Whatever he was, he was himself and must act in such a way as to not only stay alive but also get as much control over his own future as possible. The only danger to him was that they were concerned about the issue of his possible genetic alteration. Bean's task was therefore to appear so normal that their fears on that score would be dispelled.
But how could he pretend to be normal? He hadn't been brought here because he was normal, he was brought here because he was extraordinary. For that matter, so were all the other kids. And the school put so much strain on them that some became downright odd. Like Bonzo Madrid, with his loud vendetta against Ender Wiggin. So in fact, Bean shouldn't appear normal, he should appear weird in the expected ways.
Impossible to fake that. He didn't know yet what signs the teachers were looking for in the behavior of the children here. He could find ten things to do, and do them, never guessing that there were ninety things he hadn't noticed.
No, what he had to do was not to act in predictable ways, but to become what they hoped their perfect commander would be.
When he got back to his barracks, climbed back up to his bunk, and checked the time on his desk, he found that he had done it all in less than an hour. He put away his desk and lay there replaying in his mind the image in his memory of the teacher's fingers, logging in. When he was reasonably certain of what the log-in and password were, he allowed himself to drift toward sleep.
Only then, as he was beginning to doze, did he realize what his perfect camouflage would be, quelling their fears and bringing him both safety and advancement.
He had to become Ender Wiggin.
11
Daddy
"Sir. I asked for a private interview."
"Dimak is here because your breach of security affects his work."
"Breach of security! This is why you reassign me?"
"There is a child who used your log-in to the master teacher system. He found the log-in record files and rewrote them to give himself an identity."
"Sir, I have faithfully adhered to all regulations. I never sign on in front of the students."
"Everyone says they never sign on, but then it turns out they do."
"Excuse me, sir, but Uphanad does not. He's always on the others when he catches them doing it. Actually, he's kind of anal about it. Drives us all crazy."
"You can check my log-in records. I never sign on during teaching hours. In fact, I never sign on outside my quarters."
"Then how could this child possibly get in using your log-in?"
"My desk sits on my table, like so. If I may use your desk to demonstrate."
"Of course."
"I sit like so. I keep my back to the door so no one can even see in. I never sign on in any other position."
"Well it's not like there's a window he can peek through!"
"Yes there is, sir."
"Dimak?"
"There is a window, sir. Look. The vent."
"Are you seriously suggesting that he could --"
"He is the smallest child who ever --"
"It was that little Bean child who got my log-in?"
"Excellent, Dimak, you've managed to let his name slip out, haven't you."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Ah. Another security breach. Will you send Dimak home with me?"
"I'm not sending anybody home."
"Sir, I must point out that Bean's intrusion into the master teacher system is an excellent opportunity."
"To have a student romping through the student data files?"
"To study Bean. We don't have him in the fantasy game, but now we have the game he chooses to play. We watch where he goes in the system, what he does with this power he has created for himself."
"But the damage he can do is --"
"He won't do any damage, sir. He won't do anything to give himself away. This kid is too street-smart. It's information he wants. He'll look, not touch."
"So you've got him analyzed already, is that it? You know what he's doing at all times?"
"I know that if there's a story we really want him to believe, he has to discover it himself. He has to steal it from us. So I think this little security breach is the perfect way to heal a much more important one."
"What I'm wondering is, if he's been crawling through the ducts, what else has he heard?"
"If we close off the duct system, he'll know he was caught, and then he won't trust what we set up for him to find."
"So I have to permit a child to crawl around through the ductwork and --"
"He can't do it much longer. He's growing, and the ducts are extremely shallow."
"That's not much comfort right now. And, unfortunately, we'll still have to kill Uphanad for knowing too much."
"Please assure me that you're joking."
"Yes, I'm joking. You'll have him as a student soon enough, Captain Uphanad. Watch him very carefully. Speak of him only with me. He's unpredictable and dangerous."
"Dangerous. Little Bean."
"He cleaned your clock, didn't he?"
"Yours too, sir, begging your pardon."
Bean worked his way through every student at Battle School, reading the records of a half dozen or so per day. Their original scores, he found, were the least interesting thing about them. Everyone here had such high scores on all the tests given back on Earth that the differences were almost trivial. Bean's own scores were the highest, and the gap between him and the next highest, Ender Wiggin, was wide -- as wide as the gap between Ender and the next child after him. But it was all relative. The difference between Ender and Bean amounted to half of a percentage point; most of the children clustered between 97 and 98 percent.
Of course, Bean knew what they could not know, that for him getting the highest possible score on the tests had been easy. He could have done more, he could have done better, but he had reached the boundary of what the test could discover. The gap between him and Ender was much wider than they supposed.
And yet ... in reading the records, Bean came to see that the scores were merely a guide to a child's potential. The teachers talked most about things like cleverness, insight, intuition; the ability to develop rapport, to outguess an opponent; the courage to act boldly, the caution to make certain before committing, the wisdom to know which course was the appropriate one. And in considering this, Bean realized that he was not necessarily any better at these things than the other students.