Ender's War

Chapter 12 - A Sham of a Martial

I need to change my plan. There's no possible way that I'll be able to succeed now. The entire Hegemony will be after my blood if I don't fix this. Peter ran a nervous hand through his dark brown hair. What to do.. what to do.

He had found some lousy excuse to get out of that disaster of a meeting he'd arranged. Clearly, that wasn't his best move, though fortunately, he used Rackham's absence as a way to dismiss the three others. Now he just needed a way to remain in control of the I.F. Forces without exposing his true intentions. Sounds simple. Well, easier said than done. He had everyone around him on the base to worry about: let alone the Warsaw Pact leaders, the freaking MinCol who wouldn't stop attempting to break his security and see what he was doing, and finally, the Hegemon himself. The man, who was in his early fifties, had placed his trust in Peter, and Peter was not about to screw that relationship up.

He also had his Locke followers who granted him much more control than he would've had, if he had indeed been an average nineteen year old. They allowed him access into the Hegemon's council, the top priority debates on the nets, and aided in helping him win the hearts, and the political support, of the most prestigious government officials in both the I.F. and the American government. In itself, all of those things were already a large accomplishment. Sure, Peter did manage to become a major name on the nets, he had been given control of a big piece of the government, and he had single handedly brainwashed the current Hegemon so he could be his successor. All of that wasn't enough for him, however. Something was missing. Peter didn't just want to conquer chess pieces on the board, and simply wait until he was handed their power. He wanted to have control now. He wanted to be able to anticipate the moves of both players, and know what the exact outcome would be. More specifically, he dreamed of becoming God. Religion was still illegal of course, but in Peter's mind, there was no better comparison. He definitely, unmistakably, wanted to be God. And he would be willing to do absolutely anything in order for that to happen.

He knew his little mishap with Mazer could ruin any chance he had at ruling the world, though. And he didn't have the heart to confess and give up his dreams. Peter's only rational explanation for the murder was that he'd been careless, and hadn't thought about the outcome before he acted. Deep down, however, he neglected to see the truth himself.

He had been living in isolation for years thanks to mother and father moving them to Greensboro, North Carolina of all places. In all honesty, Peter enjoyed the fast pace of the city they used to call home. There, that was when he'd been cruel to both of his siblings. In Greensboro, he learned to stay calm and to hold in his angry tendencies. He was even nice to the unintelligent rodents at school. It was, after all, what helped make the charade so convincing.

In the dead of night, however, he would sneak off into the forest and skin squirrels for enjoyment. He would even run off as soon as school ended, before Valentine, or anyone else could see where he was going, and he would torture, kill, and then finally gut small woodland creatures. Looking back on that, Peter realized that that must've been an outlet for his anger, but now, what had been his outlet?

Mazer Rackham.

To reiterate what was established earlier; Peter would never admit that to himself. He was too... not sensitive, but self confident. He believed that he was amazing, and that he alone would do incredible things. Of course, he never wanted to be malicious, but those were the genes that he'd been given. So, that was what he had to work with in his quest for power.

"Sir?"

Startled, Peter quickly turned around to face his company. Of course it was Bernard. He caught up to Peter in the corridor as he continued to walk.