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He didn't have to--Ix had heard his voice, probably heard Po's voice on the radio, and he was there in a moment. Ender quickly finished his message while catching the gist of Ix's conversation with his son. Ender transmitted to Graff and Wuri just as Ix said, "We'll be there quicker than you can guess."
Ix turned to Ender. "We need to take a skimmer to Sel and Po. They're out of supplies."
Ender couldn't believe Sel would plan so badly that he could do anything as foolish as that. But before he could say anything, Ix went on.
"They've found a creature," said Ix. "At least a hybrid. Cave dweller. Six legs in the adult form. Huge wormlike larva. It can chew rock, but it doesn't metabolize it. It was starving, so they gave it all their food."
"He's such a generous man," said Ender.
"The skimmer can travel that far? Two hundred clicks, over uneven terrain?"
"Easily," said Ender. "It charges by solar, but the normal range is five hundred kilometers without a pause for recharge."
"I'm very glad you got here when you did."
"Not a coincidence," said Ender. "Sel left because I was coming, remember?"
"But he didn't need to," said Ix.
"I know. But as I said, he's a generous man."
They had two of the skimmers loaded with food in about twenty minutes, and along with experienced marines to pilot the things, Ender brought along Ix himself. They rode together on the more lightly loaded of the two.
Too bad none of the new xenos had been wakened yet--they would have killed for a chance to be along for the ride. But all in good time.
On the way, Ix explained to Ender as much as he had gleaned from talking to his son. "Po didn't want to leap to conclusions--he's a cautious boy--but from what he says, Sel thinks it's some kind of genetic merge between a formicoid species and a local worm--conceivably even the bloodworm that tried to wipe out our first generation."
"The one you take injections to control?"
"We have better methods now," said Ix. "Preventive rather than maintenance. They can't take hold. The original problem was that we were already deeply infected before we knew the problem existed--they had to be rooted out. But my generation never got the infection. You won't either. You'll see."
"Define 'formicoid,'" said Ender.
"Look, I'm not sure myself, Po and I didn't talk long. But...my guess is that he meant 'formicoid' the way we'd say 'mammalian' or even 'chordate,' rather than 'humanoid.'"
Ender looked a little disappointed. "You've got to understand, I'm a little obsessed with the formics. My old enemy, you know? Anything that might bring me closer to understanding them..."
Ix said nothing. Either he understood or he didn't. Either way, what he cared about was that both his son and his mentor were out there, without food and with a vastly important scientific discovery that would make waves on Earth and in all the colonies.
With only one satellite in the sky so far--the original transport ship--there was no way to triangulate a global positioning system. That would come later, when Morgan's people placed their network of geosyncs into orbit. For now, they depended entirely on the maps that had been generated before they landed, and Po's description of the route they would need to follow. Ender was impressed that the kid's instructions were perfect. Not a missed landmark, not a wrong turn. No delays at all.
Even proceeding cautiously, they made good time. They were there five hours after the call from Po, and it was still daylight, though it wouldn't be for much longer. As they skimmed into the valley with all its cave entrances, Ender saw with some amusement that the young man waving to them was no more than a year or two older than he was. Why had he been surprised that Po could do a good, reliable job? Hadn't Ender himself been doing a man's job for years?
Ix was off the skimmer almost before it stopped, and ran to his son and embraced him. Ender might be governor, but Ix was in charge here, giving instructions to the marines about where to park and unload. Ender authorized the instructions with a wink, and then set to work helping the men with their work. He was tall enough now that he could do a decent share of it, though not as much as two adult men with marine training. They found things to chat about while they worked, and Ender broached a subject that he'd been thinking about through most of the voyage.
"A world like this," said Ender, "almost makes you sorry to leave again, doesn't it?"
"Not me," said one of them. "Everything's so dirty. Give me shipboard life and crappy food!"
But the other one said nothing, just glanced at Ender and then looked away. So he was considering it. Staying. That was something Ender would have to negotiate with Morgan. He would be sorry if the way he thwarted Morgan's plans made it impossible to work out a way for some of the crew to stay. Still, there'd be time to figure it out. Work out a trade--because there had to be at least a few of the younger generation born here on Shakespeare who were longing to get out of this place, this tiny village, and see a wider world. It was the old tradition of the sea. And of the circus. Lose a few crew members in every port or town, but pick up a few others
who have an itchy foot or a dreamy eye.
Out of the cavern emerged an old man, who took more than a few moments to straighten up from being inside the cave. He spoke for a few moments to Po and Ix, and then, as they headed inside the cavern, dragging a sledge filled with roots and fruits--a sledge that Ix had made sure they loaded onto a skimmer--Sel Menach turned to look at Ender for the first time.
"Ender Wiggin," he said.
"Sel Menach," said Ender. "Po said you had a giant worm situation going on here."
