Bean ducked his head, so his voice would be
heard only by the men under his command. And
then, for just long enough to speak, he pressed the
override that put his voice into the ears of all the men
of that distant fleet. Bean had no idea how his voice
would sound to them; would they hear his childish
voice, or were the sounds distorted, so they would
hear him as an adult, or perhaps as some metallic,
machinelike voice? No matter. In some form the men
of that distant fleet would hear his voice, transmitted
faster than light, God knows how.
“O my son Absalom,” Bean said softly, knowing for
the first time the kind of anguish that could tear such
words from a man’s mouth. “my son, my son
Absalom. Would God I could die for thee, O Absalom, my
son. My sons!”
He had paraphrased it a little, but God would
understand. Or if he didn’t, Sister Carlotta would.
Orson Scott Card Ender's Shadow
3 comments:
i bought a new ender the other day. Can't remember the name. It was in the bargin bin @ BnN and proves, once again , why i am not allowed in book stores. I was shopping for my brothers bday present and left w/only that. Then i ran home and hid it on my (overflowing) book shelf where it will surprise me one day in the future!
Uber++ Increment the uber counter!
I only wish OSC wasn't such a giant douche IRL. When I think of how much money I've given that man and the potentially ridiculous causes he could put it towards it makes puke in my mouth a little.
yeah, he's a piece of work, alright. but that doesn't alter the fact that he writes some damn amazing fiction. i cry EVERY TIME i read 'ender's shadow.' that's something!
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