A War of Gifts by Orson Scott Card Read Free Book Online Page A

just feeling homesick. I didn’t think anybody would do anything about it.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œWe’re both so very very sorry,” said Flip. “Except that we’re not sorry at all.”
    â€œNo, we’re not,” said Dink.
    â€œIn fact, it’s kind of fun to get in trouble for keeping Sinterklaas Day. Imagine what would happen if we celebrated Christmas.”
    â€œWell,” said Dink, “we’ve still got nineteen days.”
    â€œRight,” said Flip.
    By the time they got back to Rat Army barracks, it was obvious that the story was already known. Everybody fell silent when Dink and Flip stood in the doorway.
    â€œStupid,” said Rosen.
    â€œThanks,” said Dink. “That means so much, coming from you.”
    â€œSince when did you get religion?” Rosen demanded. “Why make some kind of holy war out of it?”
    â€œIt wasn’t religious,” said Dink. “It was Dutch. ”
    â€œWell, eemo, you be Rat Army now, not Dutch.”
    â€œIn three months I won’t be in Rat Army,” said Dink. “But I’ll be Dutch until I die.”
    â€œNations don’t matter up here,” said one of the other boys.
    â€œReligions neither,” said another.
    â€œWell it’s obvious religion does matter,” said Flip, “or we wouldn’t have been called in and reprimanded for cutting a pancake into an ‘F’ and writing a funny poem and sticking it in a shoe.”
    Dink looked down the long corridor, which curved upward toward the end. Zeck, who slept at the very back of the barracks, couldn’t even be seen from the door.
    â€œHe’s not here,” said Rosen.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œZeck,” said Rosen. “He came in and told us what he’d done, and then he left.”
    â€œAnybody know where he goes when he takes off by himself?” asked Dink.
    â€œWhy?” said Rosen. “You planning to slap him around a little? I can’t allow that.”
    â€œI want to talk to him,” said Dink.
    â€œOh, talk, ” said Rosen.
    â€œWhen I say talk, I mean talk,” said Dink.
    â€œI don’t want to talk to him,” said Flip. “Stupid prig.”
    â€œHe just wants to get out of Battle School,” said Dink.
    â€œIf we put it to a vote,” said one of the other boys, “he’d be gone in a second. What a waste of space.”
    â€œA vote,” said Flip. “What a military idea.”
    â€œGo stick your finger in a dike,” the boy answered.
    â€œSo now we’re anti-Dutch,” said Dink.
    â€œThey can’t help it if they still believe in Santa Claus,” said an American kid.
    â€œSinterklaas,” said Dink. “Lives in Spain, not the North Pole. Has a friend who carries his bag—Black Piet.”
    â€œFriend?” said a kid from South Africa. “Black Piet sounds like a slave to me.”
    Rosen sighed. “It’s a relief when Christians are fighting each other instead of slaughtering Jews.”
    That was when Ender Wiggin joined the discussion for the first time. “Isn’t this exactly what the rules are supposed to prevent? People sniping at each other because of religion or nationality?”
    â€œAnd yet we’re doing it anyway,” said the American kid. “Aren’t we up here to save the human race?” asked Dink. “Humans have religions and nationalities. And customs. Why can’t we be humans too?”
    Wiggin didn’t answer.
    â€œMakes no sense for us to live like Buggers,” said Dink. “ They don’t celebrate Sinterklaas Day, either.”
    â€œPart of being human,” said Wiggin, “is to massacre each other from time to time. So maybe till we beat the Formics we should try not to be so very very human.”
    â€œAnd maybe,” said Dink, “soldiers fight for what they care about, and what they care about is their