“I was quite pointed about those limited worlds,” said Val. “I searched those ecosystems at greater depth, searching for the descolada or something like it, because I knew that a recent major die-off was a sign of danger. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection and realize that was what Jane was looking for.”
“So what if we find their home world?” asked Miro. “What then?”
“I imagine,” said Val, “we study them from a safe distance, make sure we’re right, and then alert Starways Congress so they can blow the world to hell.”
“Another sentient species?” asked Miro, incredulous. “You think we’d actually invite Congress to destroy them?”
“You forget that Congress doesn’t wait for an invitation,” said Val. “Or for permission. And if they think Lusitania is so dangerous as to need to be destroyed, what will they do with a species that manufactures and broadcasts hideously destructive viruses willy-nilly? I’m not even sure Congress would be wrong. It was pure chance that the descolada helped the ancestors of the pequeninos make the transition into sentience. If they did help — there’s evidence that the pequeninos were already sentient and the descolada very nearly wiped them out. Whoever sent that virus out has no conscience. No concept of other species having a right to survive.”
“Maybe they have no such concept now,” said Miro. “But when they meet us …”
“If we don’t catch some terrible disease and die thirty minutes after landing,” said Val. “Don’t worry, Miro. I’m not plotting to destroy anyone and everyone we meet. I’m strange enough myself not to hope for the wholesale destruction of strangers.”
“I can’t believe we only just realized we’re looking for these people, and you’re already talking about killing them all!”
“Whenever humans meet foreigners, weak or strong, dangerous or peaceable, the issue of destruction comes up. It’s built into our genes.”
“So is love. So is the need for community. So is the curiosity that overcomes xenophobia. So is decency.”
“You left out the fear of God,” said Val. “Don’t forget that I’m really Ender. There’s a reason they call him the Xenocide, you know.”
“Yes, but you’re the gentle side of him, right?”
“Even gentle people recognize that sometimes the decision not to kill is a decision to die.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this.”
“So you didn’t know me after all,” said Val, wearing a prim little smile.
“I don’t like you smug,” said Miro.
“Good,” said Val. “Then you won’t be so sad when I die.” She turned her back on him. He watched her for a while in silence, baffled. She sat there, leaning back in her chair, looking at the data coming in from the probes on their starship. Sheets of information queued up in the air in front of her; she pushed a button and the front sheet disappeared, the next one moved forward. Her mind was engaged, of course, but there was something else. An air of excitement. Tension. It made him afraid.
Afraid? Of what? It was what he had hoped for. In the past few moments Young Valentine had achieved what Miro, in his conversation with Ender, had failed to do. She had won Ender’s interest. Now that she knew she was searching for the home planet of the descolada, now that a great moral issue was involved, now that the future of the raman races might depend on her actions, Ender would care about what she was doing, would care at least as much as he cared about Peter. She wasn’t going to fade. She was going to live now.
“Now you’ve done it,” said Jane in his ear. “Now she won’t want to give me her body.”
Was that what Miro was afraid of? No, he didn’t think so. He didn’t want Val to die, despite her accusations. He was glad she was suddenly so much more alive, so vibrant, so involved — even if it made her annoyingly smug. No, there was something else.
Maybe it was nothing more complicated than fear for his own life. The home planet of the descolada virus must be a place of unimaginably advanced technology to be able to create such a thing and send it world to world. To create the antivirus that would defeat and control it, Miro’s sister Ela had had to go Outside, because the manufacture of such an antivirus was beyond the reach of any human technology. Miro would have to meet the creators of the descolada and communicate with them to stop sending out destructive probes. It was beyond his ability. He couldn’t possibly carry out such a mission. He would fail, and in failing would endanger all the raman species. No wonder he was afraid.