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over the battle, to be able to see every point of it.It was also frustrating to have so little control, too, for the computer-controlled fighters were only as good as thecomputer allowed. They took no initiative. They had no intelligence. He began to wish for his toon leaders, sothat he could count on some of the squadrons doing well without having his constant supervision.At the end of his first year he was winning every battle on the simulator, and played the game as if the machinewere a natural part of his body. One day, eating a meal with Graff, he asked, "Is that all the simulator does?""Is what all?""The way it plays now, It's easy, and it hasn't got any harder for a while.""Oh."Graff seemed unconcerned. But then, Graff always seemed unconcerned. The next day everything changed.Graff went away, and in his place they gave Ender a companion.***He was in the room when Ender awoke in the morning. He was an old man, sitting cross-legged on the floor.Ender looked at him expectantly, waiting for the man to speak. He said nothing. Ender got up and showered anddressed, content to let the man keep his silence if he wanted. He had long since learned that when somethingunusual was going on, something that was part of someone else's plan and not his own, he would find out moreinformation by waiting than by asking. Adults almost always lost their patience before Ender did.The man still hadn't spoken when Ender was ready and went to the door to leave the room. The door didn'topen. Ender turned to face the man sitting on the floor. He looked to be about sixty, by far the oldest man Enderhad seen on Eros. He had a day's growth of white whiskers that grizzled his face only slightly less than his closecuthair. His face sagged a little and his eyes were surrounded by creases and lines. He looked at Ender with anexpression that bespoke only apathy.第 273 页 共 340 页http://www.en8848.com.cn/ 原 版 英 语 阅 读 网