"Orson Scott Card - Ender's Saga 01 - Ender's Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Card Orson Scott)

"You'll miss the bus."

Ender nodded and got up. The other kids were gone. They would be waiting,
though, the bad ones. His monitor wasn't perched on his neck, hearing what heard
and seeing what he saw. They could say what they liked. They might even hit him
now-- no one could see anymore, and so no one would come to Ender's rescue.
There were advantages to the monitor, and he would miss them.

It was Stilson, of course. He wasn't bigger than most other kids, but he was
bigger than Ender. And he had some others with him. He always did.

"Hey, Third."

Don't answer. Nothing to say.

"Hey, Third, we're talkin to you, Third, hey bugger-lover, we're talkin to
you."

Can't think of anything to answer. Anything I say will make it worse. So will
saying nothing.

"Hey, Third, hey, turd, you flunked out, huh? Thought you were better than us,
but you lost your little birdie, Thirdie, got a bandaid on your neck."

"Are you going to let me through?" Ender asked.

"Are we going to let him through? Should we let him through?" They all
laughed. "Sure we'll let you through. First we'll let your arm through, then
your butt through, then maybe a piece of your knee."

The others chimed in now. "Lost your birdie, Thirdie. Lost your birdie,
Thirdie."

Stilson began pushing him with one hand, someone behind him then pushed him
toward Stilson.

"See-saw, marjorie daw," somebody said.

"Tennis!"

"Ping-pong!"

This would not have a happy ending. So Ender decided that he'd rather not be
the unhappiest at the end. The next time Stilson's arm came out to push him,
Ender grabbed at it. He missed.

"Oh, gonna fight me, huh? Gonna fight me, Thirdie?"

The people behind Ender grabbed at him, to hold him.