The Roof, Tuesday Afternoon
In the years before his trip to Ben's universe, Ender had often been drawn up here: to the roof, where he could have the best view of the weather, or of the stars. It had been a long time since he'd been, too busy with one thing or another, then too distracted by Ben and recent developments. But it had just been a matter of time.
He was leaning on the divider that kept him from tumbling off, staring up at the sky. Thinking. It had been a long time since he'd heard from anyone in Ben's galaxy. He hoped Alai had not carried through their plans yet - he had no intention of getting anyone stuck over there. More importantly, though, he thought about the future again.
It was really easy to get sucked back into the present right now. To pretend everything would be the same. At the same time, he couldn't; Ender just didn't feel equipped for that kind of thinking. It smacked too much of contentment, a quality he had yet to discover in himself. Some parts of his life were good-- others kept reminding him of the road ahead, and of how little this planet felt like home any longer.
He wondered if it would always be like that. Who am I, that I don't know my home?
"Oh, good," Jane whispered in his ear via the Bluetooth. "I had been wondering when your brain was going to jump right back to morbid, and here you are, bemoaning the fate of-- what is it, this time?"
"I'm not bemoaning anything," Ender said. "But it's November now, and MinCol still hasn't told me whether the ship will be ready to go in May, or whether I'll have to wait it out until September. Either way, we're now well over the year mark."
"Ticket to brood?" Jane asked. "There's nothing you can do about it, you know."
"I know," he said. "And I don't really want to. I'd like to avert some of the consequences - but then again, don't all men, when they make big decisions in spite of their nearest and dearest?"
"You're not actually fifty, you know. I'm pretty sure you humans are only supposed to dwell like that when you're decrepit."
Ender snorted softly. "I think most humans dwell like that every now and again," he said. "Maybe that's why alcohol is so popular - it does dull your upper brain functions."
"And then you wake up with a wax in the morning. Disgusting," Jane said. "But I don't know why you keep coming back to this time and time again, even though it's your own choice and it's inevitable. It's like an addiction for you, isn't it?"
"I'm human, Jane. Don't fault me for it."
"I can fault whoever I like," she replied. "The not-faulting is your specialty. I wouldn't dare follow in your footsteps."
Ender sighed, and shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I need to find her a home."
"And how about you, mr. Broodypants?"
"Me?" Ender asked, glancing up at the skies. "Maybe the space lanes are my home. Or maybe I'll die before I get old - it's too early to speculate."
"And still you do."
"And still I do. So please don't thwart me in my futility. I'm not sure I could take it."
[[ conversation under the cut NFB, but post is open! ]]
He was leaning on the divider that kept him from tumbling off, staring up at the sky. Thinking. It had been a long time since he'd heard from anyone in Ben's galaxy. He hoped Alai had not carried through their plans yet - he had no intention of getting anyone stuck over there. More importantly, though, he thought about the future again.
It was really easy to get sucked back into the present right now. To pretend everything would be the same. At the same time, he couldn't; Ender just didn't feel equipped for that kind of thinking. It smacked too much of contentment, a quality he had yet to discover in himself. Some parts of his life were good-- others kept reminding him of the road ahead, and of how little this planet felt like home any longer.
He wondered if it would always be like that. Who am I, that I don't know my home?
"Oh, good," Jane whispered in his ear via the Bluetooth. "I had been wondering when your brain was going to jump right back to morbid, and here you are, bemoaning the fate of-- what is it, this time?"
"I'm not bemoaning anything," Ender said. "But it's November now, and MinCol still hasn't told me whether the ship will be ready to go in May, or whether I'll have to wait it out until September. Either way, we're now well over the year mark."
"Ticket to brood?" Jane asked. "There's nothing you can do about it, you know."
"I know," he said. "And I don't really want to. I'd like to avert some of the consequences - but then again, don't all men, when they make big decisions in spite of their nearest and dearest?"
"You're not actually fifty, you know. I'm pretty sure you humans are only supposed to dwell like that when you're decrepit."
Ender snorted softly. "I think most humans dwell like that every now and again," he said. "Maybe that's why alcohol is so popular - it does dull your upper brain functions."
"And then you wake up with a wax in the morning. Disgusting," Jane said. "But I don't know why you keep coming back to this time and time again, even though it's your own choice and it's inevitable. It's like an addiction for you, isn't it?"
"I'm human, Jane. Don't fault me for it."
"I can fault whoever I like," she replied. "The not-faulting is your specialty. I wouldn't dare follow in your footsteps."
Ender sighed, and shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I need to find her a home."
"And how about you, mr. Broodypants?"
"Me?" Ender asked, glancing up at the skies. "Maybe the space lanes are my home. Or maybe I'll die before I get old - it's too early to speculate."
"And still you do."
"And still I do. So please don't thwart me in my futility. I'm not sure I could take it."
[[ conversation under the cut NFB, but post is open! ]]