“So the I.F. is holding on to Ender’s money.”

“What are you getting at?” asked Theresa.

“I don’t know,” said Bean. “I was wiping my little Ender’s butt, and I thought, there’s an awful lot of shit here.”

“They drink and drink. The breast doesn’t seem to get smaller. And they poop more than they could possibly get from the breast without shriveling it into a raisin.”

“And then I thought, I know how much I’m getting in my pension, and it’s kind of a lot. I don’t actually have to work at anything as long as I live. Petra, too. Most of it we simply invest. Roll it back into investments. It’s adding up fast. Pretty soon our income from invested pension is going to be greater than the original pension we invested. Of course, that’s partly because we have so much inside information. You know, about which wars are about to start and which will fizzle, that sort of thing.”

“You’re saying that somebody ought to be watching over Andrew’s money.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said Bean. “I’ll find out from Graff who’s taking care of it.”

“You want to invest it?” asked Theresa. “Going into brokering or financial management when Peter has finally achieved world peace?”

“I won’t be here when Peter—”

“Oh, Bean, for heaven’s sake, don’t take me seriously and make me feel bad for acting as if you weren’t going to die. I prefer not to think of you dying.”

“I was only saying that I’m not a good person to manage Ender’s…portfolio.”

“So…who?”

“Wouldn’t that be whom?”

She grimaced. “No it would not. Not even if you spoke English.”

“I don’t know. I’ve got no candidate.”

“And so you wanted to confer with Peter.”

Bean shrugged.

“But that would make no sense at all. Peter doesn’t know anything about investing and…no, no, no. I see what you’re getting at.”

“How, when I’m not sure myself?”

“Oh, you’re sure. You think Peter is financing some of this from Andrew’s pension. You think he’s embezzling from his brother.”

“I doubt Peter would call it embezzling.”

“What would he call it, then?”

“In Peter’s mind, Ender’s probably buying government bonds issued by the Hegemony. So when the Hegemon rules the world, Ender will get four percent per year, tax free.”

“Even I know that would be a lousy investment.”

“From a financial point of view. Mrs. Wiggin, Peter has the use of more money than the scant dues the few dues-paying nations still pay to the Hegemony.”

“The dues go up and down,” said Theresa.

“He tells you?”

“John Paul is closer to these things. When the world is worried about war, money flows into the Hegemony. Not a lot, just a little extra.”

“When I first got here there were Peter, you two, and the soldiers I brought with me. A couple of secretaries. And a lot of debt. Yet Peter always had enough money to send us out in the choppers we brought with us. Money for fuel, money for ammunition.”