-16-
Graff and Anderson walked through the gates into the park. There was a breeze, but the sun was hot on their shoulders.
“Abba Technics? In the capital?” Graff asked.
“No, in Biggock County. Training division,” Anderson replied. “They think my work with children is good preparation. And you?”
Graff smiled and shook his head. “No plans. I’ll be here for a few more months. Reports, winding down. I’ve had offers. Personnel development for DCIA, executive vice-president for U and P, but I said no. Publisher wants me to do memoirs of the war. I don’t know.”
They sat on a bench and watched leaves shivering in the breeze. Children on the monkey bars were laughing and yelling, but the wind and the distance swallowed their words. “Look,” Graff said, pointing. A little boy jumped from the bars and ran near the bench where the two men sat. Another boy followed him, and holding his hands like a gun he made an explosive sound. The child he was shooting at didn’t stop. He fired again.
“I got you! Come back here!”
The other little boy ran on out of sight.
“Don’t you know when you’re dead?” The boy shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock back to the monkey bars. Anderson smiled and shook his head. “Kids,” he said. Then he and Graff stood up and walked on out of the park.
– End of Ender's Game –
