Enders(79)

“That was an unfortunate casualty,” he said.

“Enders,” I said under my breath, mostly for Michael and Hyden. “But the way you treated us … You were brutal,” I said, not understanding. Was he really on our side?

“You’ve never been in the military,” he said. “We were not authorized to divulge anything at that point. We didn’t know how much we could trust you.”

“What about all that testing?” Michael asked.

“We had to assess the threat to national security.”

I started to put it together. “So you wanted us to come here?”

He nodded. “We couldn’t raid the place. We knew that Brockman would destroy everything, the Starters, the scientists, your father.”

“And the technology,” Hyden said.

“And we had to catch him in the act of committing treason, as well as round up these dangerous people who would buy and use the technology. Timing was crucial.”

“You used us as bait,” Michael said.

“You didn’t care if we survived or not,” Callie said.

“But you did. The three of you. And you came through golden,” Dawson said. “And that’s why we want to recruit you as our first enrollees in our special academy. Whoever passes will join our team.”

I looked at the guys. We had to all be thinking the same thing—why would we ever want to be part of a team under Dawson?

A woman came up and stood beside Dawson. I recognized her as the Ender who had pretended to feel sorry for us and slipped us the keys.

“No wonder we could escape your compound,” I said.

She put her arm around his waist.

A smile lit his features. “My wife,” he said.



Three days later, I stood at the gate to Institution 37. A male Ender guard scanned me with a body wand; then a female Ender patted me down with a rough hand.

“She’s clean,” the woman said.

The male guard pressed a button and the gate opened with a grating sound. It made me close my eyes a moment, taking me back to the day Sara died. The day I escaped because of her sacrifice.

With the guards flanking me, I marched to the administration building. Our shoes clacked and echoed in the heavy dark hallway with its musty odor and walnut sideboards with twisty legs. When we reached the headmaster’s door, it opened before the guards could knock.

Beatty appeared in the doorway. I had heard her voice over the gate’s intercom, consenting to my visit, so her face registered no surprise. She wore an expensive suit that her bulky, shapeless body couldn’t do justice to. She’d probably always had a body for a uniform.

“Callie, what a delicious surprise.”

The guards stepped forward to accompany me, but Beatty’s raised hand stopped them.

“We’ll be fine, thank you,” she said. “You can go.” When they hesitated, she asked, “Did you search her thoroughly? Both of you?”

“Of course, ma’am,” the woman said.

“Then I can handle her.” She pulled me inside by the wrist. “I always did.”

She closed the door in their bewildered faces. I yanked my arm back out of her grasp and rubbed my wrist.

“I’ll remind you I have my ZipTaser, Callie.” She patted a bulge in her suit pocket.

“Of course you do.” I thought about Sara.

Beatty’s face was as mean and ugly as ever. But something was different, as if she looked the slightest bit less hideous.

“That’s it,” I said. “You got rid of your moles.”

Her eyes widened.

“That’s one way to blow your headmaster’s salary.”

“Still haven’t learned your manners, I see.”

She crossed to her desk. It was military-neat, with only her airscreen, the stiletto letter opener, and a set of crystal glasses and a bottle half-filled with an amber liquid. She poured two glasses one-quarter full.

“Let’s toast to your visit.” She held out a glass for me. I didn’t take it. “Just a sip.” She pushed the glass until it touched my hand.

“What is it?”

“Two-hundred-year-old scotch. Better than maple syrup.”

“I’m a minor. I can’t.”

She smirked and put the glass on her desk. “Suit yourself.” She sipped hers and savored it.

“So why are you here, Callie, all by yourself ? I thought you were smarter than that. Something change in your life? Guardian changed her mind? Had enough of you?”

She obviously knew nothing of Brockman.

“I have news for you,” I said. “The Old Man? He’s really a teen boy.”

I noticed her pupils enlarge. She’d had no clue.

“So?” she said.

She was trying to hide her surprise.