Greensboro, North Carolina, Saturday Morning
Both of Demosthenes' essays had gone live yesterday - the one indicting the Polemarch in the early afternoon, the one revealing Ender's identity late in the evening. By morning, Peter knew, the Hegemony would be panicking. It was a state that held a lot of potential, and so Peter had finished off his Locke essay demanding that footage of Ender be released in the Portalocity lounge.
He'd sent it off as soon as he'd arrived at the airport, and carried on to the cabs, because he and Valentine had a date and it'd be a little rude if he missed it.
---
"Bravo, Valentine," Peter said, with a grin. "Every major news organization in the world is running your Demosthenes essays." He gave the holographic display in front of him a poke. They had a private booth, and it was doubtful anyone was looking in. "It's perfect, goading the Russians and warning the West."
"I can't believe you're using me to heat up a war when all I want is peace," Valentine hissed, glaring at him over her sundae.
"You're a woman, Valentine, and not only that, but you're too nice," Peter said, sitting back comfortably. "If you tried to make peace, the men of war would never listen. But when you try to make war-- oh, you make it all sound so reasonable."
Valentine jabbed her spoon at him. Flecks of ice cream landed on his clothes. "I'm only doing this for Ender," she snapped.
Peter shrugged. "The only way we're going to get Ender home is if we stop the inevitable war here," he said. "And to stop it, we have to control it."
Another jab of the spoon. "If you're wrong on this, I swear I'll ruin you."
That made Peter laugh uproariously. "Oh gracious me, Val, you've got some war in you after all!"
She snarled something at him again, but whatever it was, it was drowned out by the voice of the news reporter on the holographic display. Scenes of war flashed past their eyes - IF personnel lying dead outside the Polemarch's office in Russia. "In the wake of allegations by internet pundit Demosthenes, the Hegemon has attempted to put the Polemarch under house arrest," the newscaster explained. "Polemarch Shestov resisted that arrest, and declared war. Here is an audio sample from his speech earlier today..."
"You disappoint me, Hegemon. Removing me only proves how little you care for the billions of people of the New Warsaw Pact countries, whom, by association, I represent. And don't tell me you intend to replace me and give them their due representation. I know that's not the case. The Strategos has his spies, and I have mine. You have thrown the gauntlet at our feet, sir. And it is my duty to return it to you-- with fist and fire."
Peter's grin could have lit up the entire room. Oh, this was going exactly as he'd planned. Like pulling puppet strings, pulling levers, pressing buttons! He was doing this, and it felt so damned good.
Valentine looked terribly upset. Of course she did. She was such a soft touch.
"What should we call this?" he mused. "Fleet War? Pact War? Oooh, what about 'League War'? And we'll call the nations fighting Shestov the League of Nations. I like that." He took a contemplative sip of his drink. "You like that?"
"This isn't a game, Peter," Valentine whispered.
Peter took another sip. "What?"
"I said this isn't a game," she snapped. "People are dying! Shestov--"
"Is running his own war," Peter murmured. "It's barely gotten started, Val, and remember we're in a public space. Shh. No shouting."
She stared at him, murder in her eyes. Which was about the right mindset, if you asked him.
"Like I said, this is the only way we're getting Ender back. And--" The words 'SPECIAL REPORT' flashed across the screen, and Peter shut up. This might be important, after all. Much more important than Val's sudden pangs of conscience. Sigh.
"The International Fleet has agreed to demands made by Locke that they release footage of the Formic defeat under the command of 11-year-old Ender Wiggin."
Fuck the sun. Peter's grin could light up the whole fucking galaxy. This quickly! And because of him! He watched as tiny Ender - eleven year old Ender, not the old vet slumming around Fandom like yesterday's news - appeared on the screen, waving his arms around and looking quite into the whole thing.
"Second squadron, formation Delta Charlie on my mark. Arm the MD device..."
The whole world was going to see this.
He rocked.
[[ NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Taken and adapted from the Ender's Game: The League War comic, and to be continued... ]]
He'd sent it off as soon as he'd arrived at the airport, and carried on to the cabs, because he and Valentine had a date and it'd be a little rude if he missed it.
---
"Bravo, Valentine," Peter said, with a grin. "Every major news organization in the world is running your Demosthenes essays." He gave the holographic display in front of him a poke. They had a private booth, and it was doubtful anyone was looking in. "It's perfect, goading the Russians and warning the West."
"I can't believe you're using me to heat up a war when all I want is peace," Valentine hissed, glaring at him over her sundae.
"You're a woman, Valentine, and not only that, but you're too nice," Peter said, sitting back comfortably. "If you tried to make peace, the men of war would never listen. But when you try to make war-- oh, you make it all sound so reasonable."
Valentine jabbed her spoon at him. Flecks of ice cream landed on his clothes. "I'm only doing this for Ender," she snapped.
Peter shrugged. "The only way we're going to get Ender home is if we stop the inevitable war here," he said. "And to stop it, we have to control it."
Another jab of the spoon. "If you're wrong on this, I swear I'll ruin you."
That made Peter laugh uproariously. "Oh gracious me, Val, you've got some war in you after all!"
She snarled something at him again, but whatever it was, it was drowned out by the voice of the news reporter on the holographic display. Scenes of war flashed past their eyes - IF personnel lying dead outside the Polemarch's office in Russia. "In the wake of allegations by internet pundit Demosthenes, the Hegemon has attempted to put the Polemarch under house arrest," the newscaster explained. "Polemarch Shestov resisted that arrest, and declared war. Here is an audio sample from his speech earlier today..."
"You disappoint me, Hegemon. Removing me only proves how little you care for the billions of people of the New Warsaw Pact countries, whom, by association, I represent. And don't tell me you intend to replace me and give them their due representation. I know that's not the case. The Strategos has his spies, and I have mine. You have thrown the gauntlet at our feet, sir. And it is my duty to return it to you-- with fist and fire."
Peter's grin could have lit up the entire room. Oh, this was going exactly as he'd planned. Like pulling puppet strings, pulling levers, pressing buttons! He was doing this, and it felt so damned good.
Valentine looked terribly upset. Of course she did. She was such a soft touch.
"What should we call this?" he mused. "Fleet War? Pact War? Oooh, what about 'League War'? And we'll call the nations fighting Shestov the League of Nations. I like that." He took a contemplative sip of his drink. "You like that?"
"This isn't a game, Peter," Valentine whispered.
Peter took another sip. "What?"
"I said this isn't a game," she snapped. "People are dying! Shestov--"
"Is running his own war," Peter murmured. "It's barely gotten started, Val, and remember we're in a public space. Shh. No shouting."
She stared at him, murder in her eyes. Which was about the right mindset, if you asked him.
"Like I said, this is the only way we're getting Ender back. And--" The words 'SPECIAL REPORT' flashed across the screen, and Peter shut up. This might be important, after all. Much more important than Val's sudden pangs of conscience. Sigh.
"The International Fleet has agreed to demands made by Locke that they release footage of the Formic defeat under the command of 11-year-old Ender Wiggin."
Fuck the sun. Peter's grin could light up the whole fucking galaxy. This quickly! And because of him! He watched as tiny Ender - eleven year old Ender, not the old vet slumming around Fandom like yesterday's news - appeared on the screen, waving his arms around and looking quite into the whole thing.
"Second squadron, formation Delta Charlie on my mark. Arm the MD device..."
The whole world was going to see this.
He rocked.
[[ NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Taken and adapted from the Ender's Game: The League War comic, and to be continued... ]]