“As for me—my talents and training are entirely geared toward warfare. I will no longer put my abilities at the service of any nation. I gave my childhood to fighting an alien enemy that was trying to destroy the human race. I did not fight off the Buggers so that millions of humans could be slaughtered and hundreds of millions conquered and enslaved.

“I am on strike. I urge every other graduate of Battle School except those who serve the FPE to join me in that strike. Do not plan war, do not wage war, except to help the Hegemon Peter Wiggin to destroy the armies of the aggressors.

“And to the common soldiers I say, Do not obey your officers. Surrender at the first opportunity. Your obedience makes war possible. Take responsibility for your own actions and join me in my strike! If you surrender to the forces of the FPE, they will make every effort to spare your life and, at the earliest opportunity, to return you to your families.

“Again, I beg the forgiveness of those whose lives were lost because of plans I drew. Never again.”

The video ended.

Peter strode back to the microphone. “The Free People of Earth and our allies are now at war with the aggressors. We have already told you everything we can say without compromising ongoing military operations. There will be no questions.”

He walked away from the microphone.

Bean stood in the midst of the small wheeled beds that held his five normal children. The ones he would never see again, once he left them today.

Mazer Rackham put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to go, Julian.”

“Five of them,” said Bean. “How will Petra manage?”

“She’ll have help,” said Rackham. “The real question is, how will you manage on that messenger ship? They’ll outnumber you three to one.”

“As I can attest, children with my particular genetic defect become self-sufficient at a very early age,” said Bean.

He touched the bed of the baby named Andrew. The same name as the eldest of the siblings. But this Andrew was a normal infant. Not undersized for his age.

And this second Bella. She would lead a normal life. As would Ramón and Julian and Petra.

“If these five are normal,” Bean said to Rackham, “then the ninth child—it’s most likely…defective?”

“If the odds are fifty-fifty of the traits getting passed on, and we know that five of the nine didn’t get them, then it stands to reason that the missing one has a higher likelihood of having the traits. Though as any expert on probability would tell you, the probability for each child was fifty-fifty, and the distribution of the syndrome among the other infants will have no effect on the outcome for the ninth.”

“Maybe it’s better if Petra never finds…the last one.”

“My guess, Bean, is that there is no ninth baby. Not every implantation works. There could easily have been an early miscarriage. That would be a complete explanation of the lack of any record that was traceable by the software.”