Children of the Mind (Ender Quintet Series #4)by Orson Scott Card
The planet Lusitania is home to three sentient species: the Pequeninos, a large colony of humans, and the Hive Queen, who was brought there by Ender Wiggin. But now, once again, the human race has grown fearful; the Starways Congress has gathered a fleet to destroy Lusitania. Ender's oldest friend, Jane, an evolved computer intelligence, can save the three sentient species of Lusitania. She has learned how to move ships out-side the universe, and then instantly back to a different world, abolishing the light-speed limit. But it takes all the processing power available to her, and the Starways Congress is shutting down the network of computers in which she lives, world by world.
Soon Jane will not be able to move the ships. Ender's children must save her if they are to save themselves.
A bizarre and poorly planned mixture of dazzling ideas and preachy philosophizing: At present Card simply is juggling too many projects at once, and here he's just overextended himself.
“The novels of Orson Scott Card's Ender series are an intriguing combination of action, military and political strategy, elaborate war games and psychology.” USA Today
“In his afterword, Card declares, ‘The ideal presentation of any book of mine is to have excellent actors perform it in audio only format,' and he gets his wish. Card's phenomenal emotional depth comes through in the quiet, carefully paced speech of each performer. This is a wonderful way to experience Card's best-known and most celebrated work, both for longtime fans and for newcomers.” Publishers Weekly on Ender's Game
“The cast… gives life to the emotional and intellectual challenge of the story. Brilliant and compelling.” AudioFile on Speaker for the Dead
Read an Excerpt
Children of the Mind
By Orson Scott Card
Tom Doherty AssociatesCopyright © 1996 Orson Scott Card
All rights reserved.
"I'M NOT MYSELF"
[TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.]
"Mother. Father. Did I do it right?"
The last words of Han Qing-jao, from The God Whispers of Han Qing-jao
Si Wang-mu stepped forward. The young man named Peter took her hand and led her into the starship. The door closed behind them.
Wang-mu sat down on one of the swiveling chairs inside the small metal-walled room. She looked around, expecting to see something strange and new. Except for the metal walls, it could have been any office on the world of Path. Clean, but not fastidiously so. Furnished, in a utilitarian way. She had seen holos of ships in flight: the smoothly streamlined fighters and shuttles that dipped into and out of the atmosphere; the vast rounded structures of the starships that accelerated as near to the speed of light as matter could get. On the one hand, the sharp power of a needle; on the other, the massive power of a sledgehammer. But here in this room, no power at all. Just a room.
Where was the pilot? There must be a pilot, for the young man who sat across the room from her, murmuring to his computer, could hardly be controlling a starship capable of the feat of traveling faster than light.
And yet that must have been precisely what he was doing, for there were no other doors that might lead to other rooms. The starship had looked small from the outside; this room obviously used all the space that it contained. There in the corner were the batteries that stored energy from the solar collectors on the top of the ship. In that chest, which seemed to be insulated like a refrigerator, there might be food and drink. So much for life support. Where was the romance in starflight now, if this was all it took? A mere room.
With nothing else to watch, she watched the young man at the computer terminal. Peter Wiggin, he said his name was. The name of the ancient Hegemon, the one who first united all the human race under his control, back when people lived on only one world, all the nations and races and religions and philosophies crushed together elbow to elbow, with nowhere to go but into each other's lands, for the sky was a ceiling then, and space was a vast chasm that could not be bridged. Peter Wiggin, the man who ruled the human race. This was not him, of course, and he had admitted as much. Andrew Wiggin sent him; Wang-mu remembered, from things that Master Han had told her, that Andrew Wiggin had somehow made him. Did this make the great Speaker of the Dead Peter's father? Or was he somehow Ender's brother, not just named for but actually embodying the Hegemon who had died three thousand years before?
Peter stopped murmuring, leaned back in his chair, and sighed. He rubbed his eyes, then stretched and groaned. It was a very indelicate thing to do in company. The sort of thing one might expect from a coarse fieldworker.
He seemed to sense her disapproval. Or perhaps he had forgotten her and now suddenly remembered that he had company. Without straightening himself in his chair, he turned his head and looked at her.
"Sorry," he said. "I forgot I was not alone."
Wang-mu longed to speak boldly to him, despite a lifetime retreating from bold speech. After all, he had spoken to her with offensive boldness, when his starship appeared like a fresh-sprouted mushroom on the lawn by the river and he emerged with a single vial of a disease that would cure her home world, Path, of its genetic illness. He had looked her in the eye not fifteen minutes ago and said, "Come with me and you'll be part of changing history. Making history." And despite her fear, she had said yes.
Had said yes, and now sat in a swivel chair watching him behave crudely, stretching like a tiger in front of her. Was that his beast-of-the-heart, the tiger? Wang-mu had read the Hegemon. She could believe that there was a tiger in that great and terrible man. But this one? This boy? Older than Wang-mu, but she was not too young to know immaturity when she saw it. He was going to change the course of history! Clean out the corruption in the Congress. Stop the Lusitania Fleet. Make all colony planets equal members of the Hundred Worlds. This boy who stretched like a jungle cat.
"I don't have your approval," he said. He sounded annoyed and amused, both at once. But then she might not be good at understanding the inflections of one such as this. Certainly it was hard to read the grimaces of such a round-eyed man. Both his face and his voice contained hidden languages that she could not understand.
"You must understand," he said. "I'm not myself."
Wang-mu spoke the common language well enough at least to understand the idiom. "You are unwell today?" But she knew even as she said it that he had not meant the expression idiomatically at all.
"I'm not myself," he said again. "I'm not really Peter Wiggin."
"I hope not," said Wang-mu. "I read about his funeral in school."
"I do look like him, though, don't I?" He brought up a hologram into the air over his computer terminal. The hologram rotated to look at Wang-mu; Peter sat up and assumed the same pose, facing her.
"There is a resemblance," she said.
"Of course, I'm younger," said Peter. "Because Ender didn't see me again after he left Earth when he was — what, five years old? A little runt, anyway. I was still a boy. That's what he remembered, when he conjured me out of thin air."
"Not air at all," she said. "Out of nothing."
"Not nothing, either," he said. "Conjured me, all the same." He smiled wickedly. "I can call spirits from the vasty deep."
These words meant something to him, but not to her. In the world of Path she had been expected to be a servant and so was educated very little. Later, in the house of Han Fei-tzu, her abilities had been recognized, first by her former mistress, Han Qing-jao, and later by the master himself. From both she had acquired some bits of education, in a haphazard way. What teaching there had been was mostly technical, and the literature she learned was of the Middle Kingdom, or of Path itself. She could have quoted endlessly from the great poet Li Qing-jao, for whom her one time mistress had been named. But of the poet he was quoting, she knew nothing.
"I can call spirits from the vasty deep," he said again. And then, changing his voice and manner a little, he answered himself. "Why so can I, or so can any man. But will they come when you do call for them?"
"Shakespeare?" she guessed.
He grinned at her. She thought of the way a cat smiles at the creature it is toying with. "That's always the best guess when a European is doing the quoting," he said.
"The quotation is funny," she said. "A man brags that he can summon the dead. But the other man says that the trick is not calling, but rather getting them to come."
He laughed. "What a way you have with humor."
"This quotation means something to you, because Ender called you forth from the dead."
He looked startled. "How did you know?"
She felt a thrill of fear. Was it possible? "I did not know, I was making a joke."
"Well, it's not true. Not literally. He didn't raise the dead. Though he no doubt thinks he could, if the need arose." Peter sighed. "I'm being nasty. The words just come to my mind. I don't mean them. They just come."
"It is possible to have words come to your mind, and still refrain from speaking them aloud."
He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't trained for servility, the way you were."
So this was the attitude of one who came from a world of free people — to sneer at one who had been a servant through no fault of her own. "I was trained to keep unpleasant words to myself as a matter of courtesy," she said. "But perhaps to you, that is just another form of servility."
"As I said, Royal Mother of the West, nastiness comes unbidden to my mouth."
"I am not the Royal Mother," said Wang-mu. "The name was a cruel joke —"
"And only a very nasty person would mock you for it." Peter grinned. "But I'm named for the Hegemon. I thought perhaps bearing ludicrously overwrought names was something we might have in common."
She sat silently, entertaining the possibility that he might have been trying to make friends.
"I came into existence," he said, "only a short while ago. A matter of weeks. I thought you should know that about me."
She didn't understand.
"You know how this starship works?" he said.
Now he was leaping from subject to subject. Testing her. Well, she had had enough of being tested. "Apparently one sits within it and is examined by rude strangers," she said.
He smiled and nodded. "Give as good as you get. Ender told me you were nobody's servant."
"I was the true and faithful servant of Qing-jao. I hope Ender did not lie to you about that."
He brushed away her literalism. "A mind of your own." Again his eyes sized her up; again she felt utterly comprehended by his lingering glance, as she had felt when he first looked at her beside the river. "Wang-mu, I am not speaking metaphorically when I tell you I was only just made. Made, you understand, not born. And the way I was made has much to do with how this starship works. I don't want to bore you by explaining things you already understand, but you must know what — not who — I am in order to understand why I need you with me. So I ask again — do you know how this starship works?"
She nodded. "I think so. Jane, the being who dwells in computers, she holds in her mind as perfect a picture as she can of the starship and all who are within it. The people also hold their own picture of themselves and who they are and so on. Then she moves everything from the real world to a place of nothingness, which takes no time at all, and then brings it back into reality in whatever place she chooses. Which also takes no time. So instead of starships taking years to get from world to world, it happens in an instant."
Peter nodded. "Very good. Except what you have to understand is that during the time that the starship is Outside, it isn't surrounded by nothingness. Instead it's surrounded by uncountable numbers of aiúas."
She turned away her face from him.
"You don't understand aiúas?"
"To say that all people have always existed. That we are older than the oldest gods. ..."
"Well, sort of," said Peter. "Only aiúas on the Outside, they can't be said to exist, or at least not any kind of meaningful existence. They're just ... there. Not even that, because there's no sense of location, no there where they might be. They just are. Until some intelligence calls them, names them, puts them into some kind of order, gives them shape and form."
"The clay can become a bear," she said, "but not as long as it rests cold and wet in the riverbank."
"Exactly. So there was Ender Wiggin and several other people who, with luck, you'll never need to meet, taking the first voyage Outside. They weren't going anywhere, really. The point of that first voyage was to get Outside long enough that one of them, a rather talented genetic scientist, could create a new molecule, an extremely complex one, by the image she held of it in her mind. Or rather her image of the modifications she needed to make in an existing ... well, you don't have the biology for it. Anyway, she did what she was supposed to do, she created the new molecule, calloo callay, only the thing is, she wasn't the only person doing any creating that day."
"Ender's mind created you?" asked Wang-mu.
"Inadvertently. I was, shall we say, a tragic accident. An unhappy side effect. Let's just say that everybody there, everything there, was creating like crazy. The aiúas Outside are frantic to be made into something, you see. There were shadow starships being created all around us. All kinds of weak, faint, fragmented, fragile, ephemeral structures rising and falling in each instant. Only four had any solidity. One was that genetic molecule that Elanora Ribeira had come to create."
"One was you?"
"The least interesting one, I fear. The least loved and valued. One of the people on the ship was a fellow named Miro, who through a tragic accident some years ago had been left somewhat crippled. Neurologically damaged. Thick of speech, clumsy with his hands, lame when he walked. He held within his mind the powerful, treasured image of himself as he used to be. So — with that perfect self-image, a vast number of aiúas assembled themselves into an exact copy, not of how he was, but of how he once was and longed to be again. Complete with all his memories — a perfect replication of him. So perfect that it had the same utter loathing for his crippled body that he himself had. So ... the new, improved Miro — or rather the copy of the old, undamaged Miro — whatever — he stood there as the ultimate rebuke of the crippled one. And before their very eyes, that old rejected body crumbled away into nothing."
Wang-mu gasped, imagining it. "He died!"
"No, that's the point, don't you see? He lived. It was Miro. His own aiúa — not the trillions of aiúas making up the atoms and molecules of his body, but the one that controlled them all, the one that was himself, his will — his aiúa simply moved to the new and perfect body. That was his true self. And the old one ..."
"Had no use."
"Had nothing to give it shape. You see, I think our bodies are held together by love. The love of the master aiúa for the glorious powerful body that obeys it, that gives the self all its experience of the world. Even Miro, even with all his self-loathing when he was crippled, even he must have loved whatever pathetic remnant of his body was left to him. Until the moment that he had a new one."
"And then he moved."
"Without even knowing that he had done so," said Peter. "He followed his love."
Wang-mu heard this fanciful tale and knew that it must be true, for she had overheard many a mention of aiúas in the conversations between Han Fei-tzu and Jane, and now with Peter Wiggin's story, it made sense. It had to be true, if only because this starship really had appeared as if from nowhere on the bank of the river behind Han Fei-tzu's house.
"But now you must wonder," said Peter, "how I, unloved and unlovable as I know I am, came into existence."
"You already said. Ender's mind."
"Miro's most intensely held image was of his own younger, healthier, stronger self. But Ender, the images that mattered most in his mind were of his older sister Valentine and his older brother Peter. Not as they became, though, for his real older brother Peter was long dead, and Valentine — she has accompanied or followed Ender on all his hops through space, so she is still alive, but aged as he has aged. Mature. A real person. Yet on that starship, during that time Outside, he conjured up a copy of her youthful self. Young Valentine. Poor Old Valentine! She didn't know she was so old until she saw this younger self, this perfect being, this angel that had dwelt in Ender's twisted little mind from childhood on. I must say, she's the most put-upon victim in all this little drama. To know that your brother carries around such an image of you, instead of loving you as you really are — well, one can see that Old Valentine — she hates it, but that's how everyone thinks of her now, including, poor thing, herself — one can see that Old Valentine is really having her patience tried."
"But if the original Valentine is still alive," said Wang-mu, puzzled, "then who is the young Valentine? Who is she really? You can be Peter because he's dead and no one is using his name, but ..."
"Quite puzzling, isn't it?" said Peter. "But my point is that whether he's dead or not, I'm not Peter Wiggin. As I said before, I'm not myself."
He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. The hologram above the terminal turned to look at him. He had not touched the controls.
"Jane is with us," said Wang-mu.
"Jane is always with us," said Peter. "Ender's spy."
The hologram spoke. "Ender doesn't need a spy. He needs friends, if he can get them. Allies at least."
Excerpted from Children of the Mind by Orson Scott Card. Copyright © 1996 Orson Scott Card. Excerpted by permission of Tom Doherty Associates.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Orson Scott Card was the first writer to receive both the Hugo and Nebula awards for best novel two years in a row, first for Ender's Game and then for the sequel, Speaker for the Dead. He lives with his wife and children in North Carolina.
Gabrielle de Cuir is a Grammy-nominated and Audie Award-winning producer whose narration credits include the voice of Valentine in Orson Scott Card's Ender novels, Ursula K. Le Guin's The Tombs of Atuan, and Natalie Angier's Woman, for which she was awarded AudioFile magazine's Golden Earphones Award. She lives in Los Angeles where she also directs theatre and presently has several projects in various stages of development for film.
John Rubinstein made his debut as the title role in Bob Fosse's Pippin. He is a skillful, AudioFile Earphones Award-winning narrator who has read works by Jonathan Kellerman, Orson Scott Card, Tom Clancy, and Gabriel Brownstein. Rubinstein is also a successful actor and has acted in the films Jekyll, Choose Conner, The Truth About Layla, and 21 Grams. His television credits include The Young and the Restless, Greek, Desperate Housewives, Day Break, Criminal Minds, Cold Case, CSI and Law & Order.
- Greensboro, North Carolina
- Date of Birth:
- August 24, 1951
- Place of Birth:
- Richland, Washington
- B.A. in theater, Brigham Young University, 1975; M.A. in English, University of Utah, 1981
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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An amazing piece of work from Card, and a great end to the Ender quartet. It is ignorant to think that the ending 'leaves you hanging' because Card could have just as easily put in an ending that makes all the readers happy. But, if you don't understand the ending to the book, then Card's whole meaning is lost to you. Just as well, I'm confused at how someone who finds parts of the book 'so boring' that they had to skip entire chapters completely, has any say in how good or bad a book is if they technically never even read the whole book. The final book in the Ender series touches on as many aspects of human nature as 'Xenocide' did, and truly forces you to make the connection between the Ender's universe and our present, and think of what Card is trying to convey to the reader. Excellent writing, and a pleasant and satisfying end to the Ender series that should not be missed out on.
I read this because it was part of the Ender Wiggin series, which turned into one of my favorite book series. It took me a while to get into it, It is not a bad read, if you can force yourself to read past the boring parts. Though definitely not the best in Enderverse, I would highly recommend reading this if you have read the previous novels to the series. The entire novel is NOT horrible, so do not be dissuaded by the negativity in this review.
I have to say that people are being a little hard on this book. I thought that it was great...not only did we grow to love Ender MORE, but we also got to learn more about the Hive Queen and the pequininos, which I was frankly happy about. I thought that the character struggles and triumphs were so intense at times, that I felt moved. Jane, who I didn't care a lot for in previous books, became someone I actually cared about. Even Peter became likable. All in all, I say definitely read this book, maybe you will like it even better than Ender's Game.
Read the entire series years ago love it wanted to read it again. Loved it the second time as well. the characters come to life on the pages with great story line.
The series starts off with a book that any pre-teen and older can comfortably read, enjoy and understand. But after that, the books begin to take a more philosophical root that forces the reader to think. A lot. But overal this was a great run with Ender
The book plays with a lot of psycological factors. It talkes about how we treet others and what we would do if we met an alien race, considering this. It shows the relationship between people ans peoples. A must read for all ages. Card's doen it again; another great well thought through book!
I first read Enders Game a year or so ago ffe a literature class in college ad loved it, but never had the time to read the other tree books in the Ender Wiggins series. Now that I have, I can honestly say that I should have read all the books back to back. Awesome story and characters! I loved this series.
I started reading a few days ago and can almost not put it down. its is a hard book to understand and comprehend but its not so bad...i read reviews and thought that it was going to be a hard book to read but if you've read the other three books you can definetly read this one.
I loved this book more than xenocide or even ender's game. C'mon this one is one of card's best. Dont believe most of the other reviews, this is a must read. If you want to skip a few books of card then skip the Bean saga but dont even consider skipping this book. The only reason that you should skip this book is if you hated the whole ender saga exept Ender's game.
So, so manyof the people commenting make me feel sorry for them. What so many seize to understand is that, if you dwell in the fact that the book is confusing, you are preventing yourself from enjoying the book. I learned this while reading Xenocide, the third book in the series. I was deeply confused at first, but to realize what a great story any book tells, you must get past your confusion. Another thing that is silly is that, those who dwell in the fact that a book is confusing do not ever seem to realize that well over half of the things that are confusing are things that you don't even need to know to enjoy the book.
Ender's Game and Speaker for the Dead are two of the best science fiction books i have read, and i can say that Children of the Mind is written with the same excellence of the first two books. Although Xenocide was a weak link in the series, it was necessary for the storyline of Children of the Mind. I strongly recommend the Ender's Quartet to any science fiction fan.
Ender Wiggin continues to redeem his life following the genocide he once caused. Ender resides on the planet Lusitania, home to the indigenous Pequeninos, a human settlement, and the Hive Queen he saved. Ender soon finds life is a circle as the weapon that he used thousands of years ago has come to destroy his adopted home. The Starways Congress has sent a fleet to destroy the planet out of fear of a virus traced back to Lusitania. They also want to kill Ender's friend, Jane the computer for they are afraid of her ability to control communications. Jane tries to save the sentient races of Lusitania before the Congress shuts down her intergalactic Net. Meanwhile Ender makes a last stand by creating replicas of his brother Peter and his sister Valentine. The conclusion of the Ender¿s series is a strong entry that readers will appreciate if they have read the previous novels. The tale provides the Orson Scott Card¿s powerful philosophy of involvement inside a strong redemption story line. However, many threads tied up in this novel will mean nothing to new readers, as this book is not a stand-alone. Still CHILDREN OF THE MIND is a fine finale (with new dangling threads) to a wonderful series. Harriet Klausner
I thought that it was a great book to add to the other three of this quartet. I recommend it for card's fans. A great book. Not as good as the first three but still good.
Taking almost two years to complete this book, it did lag slighy though not immensely and it never left my interest to complete. It is well-planned and although it is odd to have the ending it did,it is sensible and not an unworthy read.
The greatest one of Card's. He is a master of SC. :)