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"I won't do your deskwork for you," he said.In a moment she realized it was a joke. "Ha," she said. "It's all so military, when you're in the game. School isn'tlike it is for Launchies. Histories and strategy and tactics and buggers and math and stars, things you'll need as apilot or a commander. You'll see.""So you're my friend. Do I get a prize?" Ender asked. He was imitating her swaggering way of speaking, as ifshe cared about nothing."Bonzo isn't going to let you practice. He's going to make you take your desk to the battleroom and study. He'sright, in a way-- he doesn't want a totally untrained little kid start screwing up his precision maneuvers." Shelapsed into giria, the slangy talk that imitated the pidgin English of uneducated people. "Bonzo, he pre-cise. Heso careful, he piss on a plate and never splash."Ender grinned."The battleroom is open all the time. If you want, I'll take you in the off hours and show you some of the thingsI know, I'm not a great soldier, but I'm pretty good, and I sure know more than you.""If you want," Ender said."Starting tomorrow morning after breakfast.""What if somebody's using the room? We alway's went right after breakfast, in my launch.""No problem. There are really nine battlerooms.""I never heard of any others."第 87 页 共 340 页http://www.en8848.com.cn/ 原 版 英 语 阅 读 网