Included in Ender in Exile
by Orson Scott Card
To: email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org
Re: When Andrew Returns Home
Dear John Paul and Theresa Wiggin,
You understand that during the recent attempt by the Warsaw Pact to take over the
International Fleet, our sole concern at EducAdmin was the safety of the children. Now
we are finally able to begin working out the logistics of sending the children home.
We assure you that Andrew will be provided with continuous surveillance and an active
bodyguard throughout his transfer from the IF to American government control. We are
still negotiating the degree to which the IF will continue to provide protection after the
Every effort is being made by EducAdmin to assure that Andrew will be able to return to
the most normal childhood possible. However, I wish your advice about whether he
should be retained here in isolation until the conclusion of the inquiries into EducAdmin
actions during the late campaign. It is quite likely that testimony will be offered that
depicts Andrew and his actions in damaging ways, in order to attack EducAdmin
through him (and the other children). Here at IFCOM we can keep him from hearing the
worst of it; on Earth, no such protection will be possible and it is likelier that he will be
called to "testify."
Theresa Wiggin was sitting up in bed, holding her printout of Graff's letter.
"'Called to "testify."' Which means putting him on exhibit as -- what, a hero?
More likely a monster, since we already have various senators decrying the
exploitation of children."
"That'll teach him to save the human race," said her husband, John Paul.
"This is not a time for flippancy."
"Theresa, be reasonable," said John Paul. "I want Ender home as much as you
"No you don't," said Theresa fiercely. "You don't ache with the need for him
every day." Even as she said it she knew she was being unfair to him, and she
covered her eyes and shook her head.
To his credit, he understood and didn't argue with her about what he did and
did not feel. "You can never have the years they've taken, Theresa. He's not
the boy we knew."
"Then we'll get to know the boy he is. Here. In our home."
"Surrounded by guards."
"That's the part I refuse to accept. Who would want to hurt him?"
John Paul set down the book he was no longer pretending to read. "Theresa,
you're the smartest person I know."
"He's a child!"
"He won a war against incredibly superior forces."
"He fired off one weapon. Which he did not design or deploy."
"He got that weapon into firing range."
"The formics are gone! He's a hero, he's not in danger."
"All right, Theresa, he's a hero. How is he going to go to middle school? What
eighth grade teacher is ready for him? What school dance is he going to be
"It will take time. But here, with his family --"
"Yes, we're such a warm, welcoming group of people, a love nest into which
he'll fit so easily."
"We do love each other!"
"Theresa, Colonel Graff is only trying to warn us that Ender isn't just our son."
"He's nobody else's son."
"You know who wants to kill our son."
"No, I don't."
"Every government that thinks of American military power as an obstacle to
"But Ender isn't going to be in the military, he's going to be --"
"This week he won't be in the American military. Maybe. He won a war at the
age of twelve, Theresa. What makes you think he won't be drafted by our
benevolent and democratic government the moment he gets back to Earth? Or
put into protective custody? Maybe they'll let us go with him and maybe they
Theresa let the tears flow down her cheeks. "So you're saying that when he left
here we lost him forever."
"I'm saying that when your child goes off to war, you will never get him back.
Not as he was, not the same boy. Changed, if he comes back at all. So let me
ask you? Do you want him to go where he's in the greatest danger, or to stay
where he's relatively safe?"
"You think Graff is trying to get us to tell him to keep Ender with him out there
"I think Graff cares what happens to Ender, and he's letting us know --
without actually saying it, because every letter he sends can be used against
him in court -- that Ender is in terrible danger. Not ten minutes after Ender's
victory, the Russians made their brutal play for control of the IF. Their soldiers
killed thousands of fleet officers before the IF was able to force their surrender.
What would they have done if they had won? Brought Ender home and put on
a big parade for him?"
Theresa knew all of this. She had known it, viscerally at least, from the
moment she read Graff's letter. No, she had known it even before, had known
it with a sick dread as soon as she heard that the Formic War was over. He
would not be coming home.
She felt John Paul's hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. His hand
returned, stroking her arm as she lay there, facing away from him, crying
because she knew she had already lost the argument, crying because she
wasn't even on her own side in their quarrel.
"We knew when he was born that he didn't belong to us."
"He does belong to us."
"If he comes home, his life belongs to whatever government has the power to
protect him and use him -- or kill him. He's the single most important asset
surviving from the war. The great weapon. That's all he'll be -- that and such
a celebrity he can't possibly have a normal childhood anyway. And would we
be much help, Theresa? Do we understand what his life has been for the past
seven years? What kind of parents can we be to the boy -- the man -- that
"We would be wonderful," she said.
"And we know this because we're such perfect parents for the children we have
at home with us."
Theresa rolled onto her back. "Oh, dear. Poor Peter. It must be killing him
that Ender might come home."
"Take the wind right out of his sails."
"Oh, I'm not sure of that," said Theresa. "I bet Peter is already figuring out how
to exploit Ender's return."
"Until he finds out that Ender is much too clever to be exploited."
"What preparation does Ender have for politics? He's been in the military all
John Paul chuckled.
"All right, yes, of course the military is just as political as government."
"But you're right," said John Paul. "Ender's had protection there, people who
intended to exploit him, yes, but he hasn't had to do any bureaucratic fighting
for himself. He's probably a babe in the woods when it comes to maneuvering
"So Peter really could use him?"
"That's not what worries me. What worries me is what Peter will do when hefinds out that he can't use him."
Theresa sat back up and faced her husband. "You can't think Peter would
raise a hand against Ender!"
"Peter doesn't raise his own hand to do anything difficult or dangerous. You
know how he's been using Valentine."
"Only because she lets him use her."
"Exactly my point," said John Paul.
"Ender is not in danger from his own family."
"Theresa, we have to decide: What's best for Ender? What's best for Peter and
Valentine? What's best for the future of the world?"
"Sitting here on our bed, in the middle of the night, the two of us are deciding
the fate of the world?"
"When we conceived little Andrew, my dear, we decided the fate of the world."
"And had a good time doing it," she added.
"Is it good for Ender to come home? Will it make him happy?"
"Do you really think he's forgotten us?" she asked. "Do you think Ender
doesn't care whether he comes home?"
"Coming home lasts a day or two. Then there's living here. The danger from
foreign powers, the unnaturalness of his life at school, the constant
infringements on his privacy, and let's not forget Peter's unquenchable
ambition and envy. So I ask again, will Ender's life here be happier than it
would be if ..."
"If he stays out in space? What kind of life will that be for him?"
"The IF has made its commitment -- total neutrality in regard to anything
happening on Earth. If they have Ender, then the whole world -- every
government -- will know they'd better not try to go up against the Fleet."
"So by not coming home, Ender continues to save the world on an ongoing
basis," said Theresa. "What a useful life he'll have."
"The point is that nobody else can use him."
Theresa put on her sweetest voice. "So you think we should write back to Graff
and tell him that we don't want Ender to come home?"
"We can't do anything of the kind," said John Paul. "We'll write back that we're
eager to see our son and we don't think any bodyguard will be necessary."
It took her a moment to realize why he seemed to be reversing everything he'd
said. "Any letters we send Graff," she said, "will be just as public as the letter
he sent us. And just as empty. And we do nothing and let things take their
"No, my dear," said John Paul. "It happens that living in our own house, under
our own roof, are two of the most influential formers of public opinion."
"But John Paul, officially we don't know that our children are sneaking around
in the nets, manipulating events through Peter's network of correspondents
and Valentine's brilliantly perverse talent for demagoguery."
"And they don't know that we have any brains," said John Paul. "They seem to
think they were left at our house by fairies instead of having our genetic
material throughout their little bodies. They treat us as convenient samples of
ignorant public opinion. So ... let's give them some public opinions that will
steer them to do what's best for their brother."
"What's best," echoed Theresa. "We don't know what's best."
"No," said John Paul. "We only know what seems best. But one thing's certain
-- we know a lot more about it than any of our children do."
Valentine came home from school with anger festering inside her. Stupid
teachers -- it made her crazy sometimes to ask a question and have the
teacher patiently explain things to her as if the question were a sign of
Valentine's failure to understand the subject, instead of the teacher's. But
Valentine sat there and took it, as the equation showed up in the holodisplay
on everybody's desk and the teacher covered it point by point.
Then Valentine drew a little circle in the air around the element of the problem
that the teacher had not addressed properly -- the reason why the answer was
not right. Valentine's circle did not show up on all the desks, of course; only
the teacher's computer had that capability.
So the teacher then got to draw his own circle around that number and say,
"What you're not noticing here, Valentine, is that even with this explanation, if
you ignore this element you still can't get the right answer."
It was such an obvious ego-protective coverup. But of course it was obvious
only to Valentine. To the other students, who were barely grasping the
material anyway (especially since it was being explained to them by an
unobservant incompetent), it was Val who had overlooked the circled
parenthetical, even though it was precisely because of that element that she
had asked her question in the first place.
And the teacher gave her that simpering smile that clearly said, "You aren't
going to defeat me and humiliate me in front of this class."
But Valentine was not trying to humiliate him. She did not care about him.
She simply cared that the material be taught well enough that if, God forbid,
some member of the class became a civil engineer, his bridges wouldn't fall
down and kill people.
That was the difference between her and the idiots of the world. They were all
trying to look smart and keep their social standing. Whereas Valentine didn't
care about social standing, she cared about getting it right. Getting the truth
-- when the truth was gettable.
She had said nothing to the teacher and nothing to any of the students and
she knew she wouldn't get any sympathy at home, either. Peter would mock
her for caring about school enough to let that clown of a teacher get under her
skin. Father would look at the problem, point out the correct answer, and go
back to his work without ever noticing that Val wasn't asking for help, she was
asking for commiseration.
And Mother? She would be all for charging down to the school and doing
something about it, raking the teacher over the coals. Mother wouldn't even
hear Val explaining that she didn't want to shame the teacher, she just wanted
somebody to say, "Isn't it ironic, that in this special advanced school for really
bright kids, they have a teacher who doesn't know his own subject!" To which
Val could reply, "It sure is!" and then she'd feel better. Like somebody was on
her side. Somebody got it and she wasn't alone.
My needs are simple and few, thought Valentine. Food. Clothing. A
comfortable place to sleep. And no idiots.
But of course a world with no idiots would be lonely. If she herself were even
allowed there. It's not as if she never made mistakes.
Like the mistake of ever letting Peter rope her into being Demosthenes. He still
thought he needed to tell her what to write every day after school -- as if, after
all these years, she had not completely internalized the character. She could
write Demosthenes' essays in her sleep.
And if she needed help, all she had to do was listen to Father pontificate on
world affairs -- since he seemed to echo all of Demosthenes' warmongering
jingoistic demagogic opinions despite claiming never to read the columns.
If he knew his sweet naive little daughter was writing those essays, he'd poop
She fumed into the house, headed straight for her computer, scanned the
news, and started writing the essay she knew Peter would assign her -- a
diatribe on how the IF should not have ended the hostilities with the Warsaw
Pact without first demanding that Russia surrender all her nukes, because
shouldn't there be some cost to waging a nakedly aggressive war? All the usual
spewings from her Demosthenes anti-avatar.
Or am I, as Demosthenes, Peter's real avatar? Have I been turned into a virtual
Click. An email. Anything would be better than what she was writing.
It was from mother. She was forwarding an email from Colonel Graff. About
Ender having a bodyguard when he came home.
"I thought you'd want to see this," Mother had written. "Isn't it just THRILLING
that Andrew's homecoming is SO CLOSE?"
Stop shouting, Mother. Why do you use caps for emphasis like that? It's so --
junior high school. It's what she told Peter more than once. Mother is such a
Mother's epistle went on in the same vein. It'll take NO time at ALL to get
Ender's room back into shape for him and now there doesn't seem to be any
reason to put off cleaning the room a SECOND longer unless what do you
think, would Peter want to SHARE his room with his little brother so they could
BOND and get CLOSE again? And what do you think Ender will want for his
VERY FIRST meal home?
Food, Mother. Whatever it is will definitely be "SPECIAL enough to make him
feel LOVED and MISSED."
Anyway. Mother was so naive to take Graff's letter at face value. Val went
back and read it again. Surveillance. Bodyguard. Graff was sending her a
warning, not trying to get her all excited about Ender's homecoming. Ender
was going to be in danger. Couldn't Mother see that?
Graff asks if they should keep Ender in space till the inquiries were over. But
that would take months. How could Mother have gotten the idea that Ender
was coming home so soon it was time to clear out the junk that had gotten
stacked in his room? Graff was asking her to request that he not be sent home
just yet. And his reason was that Ender was in danger.
Instantly the whole range of dangers that Ender faced loomed before her. The
Russians would assume that Ender was a weapon that America would use
against them. The Chinese would think the same -- that America, armed with
this Ender-weapon, might become aggressive about intruding into China's
sphere of influence again. Both nations would breathe easier if Ender were
dead. Though of course they'd have to make it look like the assassination had
been carried out by some kind of terrorist movement. Which meant that they
wouldn't just snipe Ender out of existence, they'd probably blow up his school.
No, no, no, Val told herself. Just because that's the kind of thing Demosthenes
would say doesn't mean it's what you have to think!
But the image of somebody blowing Ender up or shooting him or whatever
method they used -- all the methods kept flashing through her mind. Wouldn't
it be ironic -- yet typically human -- for the person who saved the human race
to be assassinated? It was like the murder of Abraham Lincoln or Mohandas
Gandhi. Some people just didn't know who their saviors were. And the fact
that Ender was still a kid wouldn't even slow them down.
He can't come home, she thought. Mother will never see it, I could never say it
to her, but ... even if they weren't going to assassinate him, what would his life
be like here? Ender was never one to seek fame or status, and yet everything
he did would end up on the vids with people commenting on how he did his
hair (Vote! Like it or hate it?) and what classes he was taking in school (What
will the hero be when he grows up? Vote on the career you think The Wiggin
should prepare for!)
What a nightmare. It wouldn't be coming home. They could never bring Ender
home anyway. The home he left didn't exist. The kid who was taken out of
that home didn't exist either. When Ender was here -- not even a whole year
ago -- when Val went to the lake and spent those hours with him, Ender
seemed so old. Playful sometimes, yes, but he felt the weight of the world on
his shoulders. Now the burden had been taken off -- but the aftermath would
cling to him, would tie him down, tear down his life.
The years of childhood were gone. Period. Ender didn't get to be a little boy
growing up into an adolescent in his father's and mother's house. He was
already an adolescent now -- in years and hormones -- and an adult in the
responsibilities he'd borne.
If school feels empty to me, how will it feel to Ender?
Even as she finished writing her essay on Russia's nukes and the cost of
defeat, she was mentally structuring another essay. The one explaining why
Ender Wiggin should not be brought back to Earth because he'd be the target
of every crank and spy and paparazzo and assassin and a normal life would be
She didn't write it, though. Because she knew there was a huge problem: Peter
would hate it.
Because Peter already had his plans. His online persona, Locke, had already
started laying the groundwork for Ender's homecoming. It was clear to
Valentine that when Ender returned, Peter intended to come out of the closet
as the real author of the Locke essays -- and therefore the person who came
up with the terms of the truce that was still holding between the Warsaw Pact
and the IF. Peter meant to piggyback on Ender's fame. Ender saved the
human race from the formics, and his big brother Peter saved the world from
civil war in the aftermath of Ender's victory. Double heroes!
Ender would hate the notoriety. Peter was so hungry for it that he intended to
steal as much of Ender's as he could get.
Oh, he'd never admit that, thought Valentine. Peter will have all kinds of
reasons why it's for Ender's own good. Probably the very reasons I've thought
And since that's the case, am I doing just what Peter does? Have I come up
with all these reasons for Ender not to come home, solely because in my heart I
don't want him here?
At that thought, such a wave of emotion swept over her that she found herself
weeping at her homework table. She wanted him home. And even though she
understood that he couldn't really come home -- Colonel Graff was right -- she
still yearned for the little brother who was stolen from her. All these years with
the brother I hate, and now, for the sake of the brother I love, I'll work to keep
him from ...
From me? No, I don't have to keep him from me. I hate school, I hate my life
here, I hate hate hate being under Peter's thumb. Why should I stay? Why
shouldn't I go out into space with Ender? At least for a while. I'm the one he's
closest to. I'm the only one he's seen in the past seven years. If he can't come
home, one bit of home -- me -- can come to him!
It was all a matter of persuading Peter that it wasn't in his best interest to have
Ender come back to Earth -- without letting Peter know that she was trying to
It just made her tired, because Peter wasn't easy to manipulate. He saw
through everything. So she had to be quite forthright and honest about what
she was doing -- but do it with such subtle overtones of humility and
earnestness and dispassion and whatever that Peter could get past his own
condescension toward everything she said and decide that he had thought that
way all along and ...
And is my real motive that I want to get off planet myself? Is this about Ender
or about me getting free?
Both. It can be both. And I'll tell Ender the truth about that -- I won't be
giving up anything to be with him. I'd rather be with him in space and never
see Earth again than stay here, with or without him. Without him: an aching
void. With him: the pain of watching him lead a miserable, frustrated life.
Val began to write a letter to Colonel Graff. Mother had been careless enough
to include Graff's address. That was almost a security breach. Mother was so
naive sometimes. If she were an IF officer, she would have been cashiered long
At dinner that night, Mother couldn't stop talking about Ender's homecoming.
Peter listened with only half his attention, because of course Mother couldn't
see past her personal sentimentality about her "lost little boy coming back to
the nest" whereas Peter understood that Ender's return would be horribly
complicated. So much to prepare for -- and not just the stupid bedroom.
Ender could have Peter's own bed, for all he cared -- what mattered was that
for a brief window of time, Ender would be the center of the world's attention,
and that was when Locke would emerge from the cloak of anonymity and put
an end to the speculation about the identity of the "great benefactor of
humanity who, because of his modesty in remaining anonymous, cannot
receive the Nobel prize that he so richly deserves for having led us to the end of
the last war of mankind."
That from a rather gushy fan of Locke's -- who also happened to be the head of
the opposition party in Great Britain. Naive to imagine even for a moment that
the brief attempt by the New Warsaw Pact to take over the IF was the "last
war." There's only one way to have a "last war," and that's to have the whole of
Earth under a single, effective, powerful, but popular leader.
And the way to introduce that leader would be to find him on camera, standing
beside the great Ender Wiggin with his arm flung across the hero's shoulders
because -- and who should be surprised by this? -- the "Boy of War" and the
"Man of Peace" are brothers!
And now Father was blathering about something. Only he had addressed
something to Peter directly and so Peter had to play the dutiful son and listen
as if he cared.
"I really think you need to commit to the career you want to pursue before your
brother gets home, Peter."
"And why is that?" asked Peter.
"Oh, don't pretend to be so naive. Don't you realize that Ender Wiggin's
brother can get into any college he wants?"
Father pronounced the words as if they were the most brilliant ever spoken
aloud by someone who had not yet been deified by the Roman senate or
sainted by the Pope or whatever. It would never occur to Father that Peter's
perfect grades and his perfect score on all the college-entry tests would already
get him into any school he wanted. He didn't have to piggyback on his
brother's fame. But no, to Father everything good in Peter's life would always
be seen as flowing from Ender. Ender Ender Ender Ender what a stupid name.
If Father's thinking this way, no doubt everybody else will, too. At least
everybody below a certain minimum intelligence.
All Peter had been seeing was the publicity bonus that Ender's homecoming
would offer. But Father had reminded him of something else -- that everything
he did would be discounted in people's minds precisely because he was Ender
the Great's older brother. People would see them standing side by side, yes --
but they'd wonder why Ender's brother had not been taken into Battle School.
It would make Peter look weak and inferior and vulnerable.
There he'd stand, noticeably taller, the brother who stayed home and didn't do
anything. "Oh, but I wrote all the Locke essays and shut down the conflict
with Russia before it could turn into a world war!" Well, if you're so smart, why
weren't you helping your little brother save the human race from complete
Public relations opportunity, yes. But also a nightmare.
How could he use the opportunity Ender's great victory offered, yet not have it
look like he was nothing but a hanger on, sucking at his brother's fame like a
remora? How ghastly if his announcement sounded like some sad kind of me-too-ism. Oh, you think my brother's cool? Well, I'll have you know that I saved
the world too. In my own sad, needy little way.
"Are you all right, Peter?" asked Valentine.
"Oh, is something wrong?" asked Mother. "Let me look at you, dear."
"I'm not taking my shirt off or letting you use a rectal thermometer on me,
Mother, because Val is hallucinating and I look just fine.
"I'll have you know that if and when I start hallucinating," said Val, "I can
think of something better that seeing your face looking pukish."
"What a great commercial idea," said Peter, almost by reflex now. "Choose
Your Own Hallucination! Oh, wait, they have that one -- they call it 'illegal
"Don't sneer at us needy ones," said Val. "Those who are addicted to ego don't
"Children," said Mother. "Is this what Ender will find when he comes home?"
"Yes," said Val and Peter simultaneously.
Father spoke up. "I'd like to think he might find you a bit more mature."
But by now Peter and Val were laughing uproariously. They couldn't stop, so
Father sent them from the table.
Peter glanced through Val's essay on Russian nukes. "This is so boring."
"I don't think so," said Valentine. "They have the nukes and that keeps other
countries from slapping them down when they need it -- which is often."
"What's this thing you've got against Russia?"
"It's Demosthenes who has something against Russia," said Val with fake
"Good," said Peter. "So Demosthenes will not be worried about Russian
nuclear weapons, he'll be worried about Russia getting its hands on the most
valuable weapon of them all."
"The Molecular Disruption Device?" asked Val. "The IF will never bring it
within firing range of earth."
"Not the M.D. Device, you poor sap. I'm referring to our brother. Our
civilization-destroying junior sib."
"Don't you dare talk about him so mockingly!"
Peter's expression turned into a mocking simper. But behind his visage there
was anger and hurt. She still had the power to get to him, just by making it
clear how much more she loved Ender.
"Demosthenes is going to write an essay pointing out that America must get
Andrew Wiggin back to Earth immediately. No more delays. The world is too
dangerous a place for America not to have the immediate services of the
greatest military leader the world has ever known."
Immediately a fresh wave of hatred for Peter swept over Valentine. Partly
because she realized his approach would work far better than the essay she
had already written. She hadn't internalized Demosthenes as well as she
thought. Demosthenes would absolutely call for Ender's immediate return and
enlistment in the American military.
And that would be as destabilizing, in its own way, as a call for forward
deployment of nukes. Demosthenes' essays were watched very carefully by the
rivals and enemies of the United States. If he called for Ender to come home at
once, they would all start maneuvering to keep Ender in space; and some, at
least, would openly accuse America of having aggressive intentions.
It would then be Locke's place, in a few days or weeks, to come up with a
compromise, a statesmanlike solution: Leave the kid in space.
Valentine knew exactly why Peter had changed his mind. It was that stupid
remark of Father's at dinner -- his reminder that Peter would be in Ender's
shadow, no matter what he did.
Well, even political sheep sometimes said something that had a good result.
Now Val wouldn't even have to persuade Peter of the need to keep Ender away
from Earth. It would be all his idea instead of hers.
Theresa once again sat on the bed, crying. Strewn about her were printouts of
the Demosthenes and Locke essays that she knew would keep Ender from
"I can't help it," she said to her husband. "I know it's the right thing -- just as
Graff wanted us to understand it. But I thought I'd see him again. I really
John Paul sat beside her on the bed and put his arms around her. "It's the
hardest thing we ever did."
"Not giving him up in the first place?"
"That was hard," said John Paul, "but we didn't have a choice. They were going
to take him anyway. This time, though. You know that if we went on the nets
and put up vids of us pleading for our son to come home -- we'd have a pretty
"And our little boy is going to wonder why we don't do it."
"Not he's not."
"Oh, you think he's so smart he'll figure out what we're doing? Why we're
"Why wouldn't he?"
"Because he doesn't know us," said Theresa. "He doesn't know what we think
or feel. As far as he can tell, we've forgotten all about him."
"One thing I feel good about, in this whole mess," said John Paul. "We're still
good at manipulating our genius children."
"Oh, that," said Theresa dismissively. "It's easy to manipulate your children
when they're absolutely sure you're stupid."
Re: You know the truth
You know who decides what to write. No doubt you can even guess why. I'm not going
to try to defend my essay, or how it's being used by others.
You once used the sister of Andrew Wiggin to persuade him to go back into space and
win that little war you were fighting. She did her job, didn't she? Such a good girl,
fulfills all her assignments.
Well I have an assignment for her. You once sent her brother to her, for comfort and
company. He'll need her again, more than ever, only he can't come to her. No house
by the lake this time. But there's no reason she can't go out into space to be with him.
Enlist her in the IF, pay her as a consultant, whatever it takes. But she and her brother
need each other. More than either of them needs Life On Earth.
Don't second guess her on this. Remember that she's smarter than you are, and she
loves her younger brother more than you do, and besides, you're a decent man. You
know this is right and good. You always try to bring about what's right and good, don't
Do us both a favor. Take this letter and shred it and stick it where the sun don't shine.
Your devoted and humble servant -- everybody's devoted and humble servant -- the
humble and devoted servant of truth and noble jingoism -- Demosthenes.