“Is if we caught it,” said the Speaker. “The Descolada.”
“You see? Everything comes back to the Descolada. My grandparents found a way to stop it from killing humans, but it took the best genetic manipulation. The cabra, the watersnakes, they also found ways to adapt, and I doubt it was with dietary supplements. I think it all ties in together. The weird reproductive anomalies, the emptiness of the ecosystem, it all comes back to the Descolada bodies, and Mother won't let me examine them. She won't let me study what they are, how they work, how they might be involved with–”
“With the piggies.”
“Well, of course, but not just them, all the animals–”
The Speaker looked like he was suppressing excitement. As if she had explained something difficult. “The night that Pipo died, she locked the files showing all her current work, and she locked the files containing all the Descolada research. Whatever she showed Pipo had to do with the Descolada bodies, and it had to do with the piggies–”
“That's when she locked the files?” asked Ela.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Then I'm right, aren't I.”
“Yes,” he said. “Thank you. You've helped me more than you know.”
“Does this mean that you'll speak Father's death soon?”
The Speaker looked at her carefully. “You don't want me to Speak your father, really. You want me to Speak your mother.”
“She isn't dead.”
«But you know I can't possibly Speak Marc o without explaining why he married Novinha, and why they stayed married all those years.»
“That's right. I want all the secrets opened up. I want all the files unlocked. I don't want anything hidden.”
“You don't know what you're asking,” said the Speaker. “You don't know how much pain it will cause if all the secrets come out.”
“Take a look at my family, Speaker,” she answered. “How can the truth cause any more pain than the secrets have already caused?”
He smiled at her, but it was not a mirthful smile. It was– affectionate, even pitying. “You're right,” he said, “completely right, but you may have trouble realizing that, when you hear the whole story.”
“I know the whole story, as far as it can be known.”
“That's what everybody thinks, and nobody's right.”
“When will you have the Speaking?”
“As soon as I can.”
“Then why not now? Today? What are you waiting for?”
“I can't do anything until I talk to the piggies.”
“You're joking, aren't you? Nobody can talk to the piggies except the Zenadors. That's by Congressional Order. Nobody can get past that.”
“Yes,” said the Speaker. “That's why it's going to be hard.”
“Not hard, impossible–”
“Maybe,” he said. He stood; so did she. “Ela, you've helped me tremendously. Taught me everything I could have hoped to learn from you. Just like Olhado did. But he didn't like what I did with the things he taught me, and now he thinks I betrayed him.”
“He's a kid. I'm eighteen.”
The Speaker nodded, put his hand on her shoulder, squeezed. “We're all right then. We're friends.”
She was almost sure there was irony in what he said. Irony and, perhaps, a plea. “Yes,” she insisted. “We're friends. Always.”
He nodded again, turned away, pushed the boat from shore, and splashed after it through the reeds and muck. Once the boat was fairly afloat, he sat down and extended the oars, rowed, and then looked up and smiled at her. Ela smiled back, but the smile could not convey the elation she felt, the perfect relief. He had listened to everything, and understood everything, and he would make everything all right. She believed that, believed it so completely that she didn't even notice that it was the source of her sudden happiness. She knew only that she had spent an hour with the Speaker for the Dead, and now she felt more alive than she had in years.
She retrieved her shoes, put them back on her feet, and walked home. Mother would still be at the Biologista's Station, but Ela didn't want to work this afternoon. She wanted to go home and fix dinner; that was always solitary work. She hoped no one would talk with her. She hoped there'd be no problem she was expected to solve. Let this feeling linger forever.
Ela was only home for a few minutes, however, when Miro burst into the kitchen. “Ela,” he said. “Have you seen the Speaker for the Dead?”
“Yes,” she said. “On the river.”
“Where on the river!”
If she told him where they had met, he'd know that it wasn't a chance meeting. “Why?” she asked.
“Listen, Ela, this is no time to be suspicious, please. I've got to find him. We've left messages for him, the computer can't find him–”
“He was rowing downriver, toward home. He's probably going to be at his house soon.”
Miro rushed from the kitchen into the front room. Ela heard him tapping at the terminal. Then he came back in. “Thanks,” he said. “Don't expect me home for dinner.”
“What's so urgent?”
“Nothing.” It was so ridiculous, to say “nothing” when Miro was obviously agitated and hurried, that they both burst out laughing at once. “OK,” said Miro, “it isn't nothing, it's something, but I can't talk about it, OK?”
“OK.” But soon all the secrets will be known, Miro.
“What I don't understand is why he didn't get our message. I mean, the computer was paging him. Doesn't he wear an implant in his ear? The computer's supposed to be able to reach him. Of course, maybe he had it turned off.”
“No,” said Ela. “The light was on.”
Miro cocked his head and squinted at her. “You didn't see that tiny red light on his ear implant, not if he just happened to be out rowing in the middle of the river.”
“He came to shore. We talked.”
“What about?”
Ela smiled. “Nothing,” she said.
He smiled back, but he looked annoyed all the same. She understood: It's all right for you to have secrets from me, but not for me to have secrets from you, is that it, Miro?
He didn't argue about it, though. He was in too much of a hurry. Had to go find the Speaker, and now, and he wouldn't be home for dinner.
Ela had a feeling the Speaker might get to talk to the piggies sooner than she had thought possible. For a moment she was elated. The waiting would be over.
Then the elation passed, and something else took its place. A sick fear. A nightmare of China's papai, dear Libo, lying dead on the hillside, torn apart by the piggies. Only it wasn't Libo, the way she had always imagined the grisly scene. It was Miro. No, no, it wasn't Miro. It was the Speaker. It was the Speaker who would be tortured to death. “No,” she whispered.
Then she shivered and the nightmare left her mind; she went back to trying to spice and season the pasta so it would taste like something better than amaranth glue.
Chapter 14
Renegades
LEAF-EATER: Human says that when your brothers die, you bury them in the dirt and then make your houses out of that dirt. ( Laughs.)
MIRO: No. We never dig where people are buried.
LEAF-EATER: (becomes rigid with agitation): Then your dead don't do you any good at all!
– Ouanda Quenhatta Figueira Mucumbi, Dialogue Transcripts, 103:0:1969:4:13:111
Ender had thought they might have some trouble getting him through the gate, but Ouanda palmed the box, Miro opened the gate, and the three of them walked through. No challenge. It must be as Ela had implied– no one wants to get out of the compound, and so no serious security was needed. Whether that suggested that people were content to stay in Milagre or that they were afraid of the piggies or that they hated their imprisonment so much that they had to pretend the fence wasn't there, Ender could not begin to guess.
Both Ouanda and Miro were very tense, almost frightened. That was understandable, of course, since they were breaking Congressional rules to let him come. But Ender suspected there was more to it than that. Miro's tension was coupled with eagerness, a sense of hurry; he might be frightened, but he wanted to see what would happen, wanted to go ahead.