Peter laughed. "Oh, they pretended that they'd known it all along. Parents."
At Bean's suggestion, Peter located the headquarters of the Hegemony in a compound just outside the city of Ribeirao Preto in the state of Sao Paulo. There they would have excellent air connections anywhere in the world, while being surrounded by small towns and agricultural land. They'd be far from any government body. It was a pleasant place to live as they planned and trained to achieve the modest goal of freeing the captive nations while holding the line against any new aggressions.
The Delphiki family came out of hiding and joined Bean in the safety of the Hegemony compound. Greece was part of the Warsaw Pact now, and there was no going home for them. Peter's parents also came, because they understood that they would become targets for anyone wanting to get to Peter. He gave them both jobs in the Hegemony, and if they minded the disruption of their lives, they never gave a sign of it.
The Arkanians left their homeland, too, and came gladly to live in a place where their children would not be stolen from them. Suriyawong's parents had made it out of Thailand, and they moved the family fortune and the family business to Ribeirao Preto. Other Thai and Indian families with ties to Bean's army or the Battle School graduates came as well, and soon there were thriving neighborhoods where Portuguese was rarely heard.
As for Achilles, month after month they heard nothing about him. Presumably he got back to Beijing. Presumably, he was worming his way into power one way or another. But they allowed themselves, as the silence about him continued, to hope that perhaps the Chinese, having made use of him, now knew him well enough to keep him away from the reins of power.
On a cloudy winter afternoon in June, Petra walked through the cemetery in the town of Araraquara, only twenty minutes by train from Ribeirao Preto. She took care to make sure she approached Bean from a direction where he could see her coming. Soon she stood beside him, looking at a marker.
"Who is buried here?" she asked.
"No one," said Bean, who showed no surprise at seeing her. "It's a cenotaph."
Petra read the names that were on it.
Poke.
Carlotta.
There was nothing else.
"There's a marker for Sister Carlotta somewhere in Vatican City," said Bean. "But there was no body recovered that could actually be buried anywhere. And Poke was cremated by people who didn't even know who she was. I got the idea for this from Virlomi."
Virlomi had set up a cenotaph for Sayagi in the small Hindu cemetery that already existed in Ribeirao Preto. It was a bit more elaborate--it included the dates of his birth and death, and called him "a man of satyagraha."
"Bean," said Petra, "it's quite insane of you to come here. No bodyguard. This marker standing here so that assassins can set their sights before you show up."
"I know," said Bean.
"At least you could have invited me along."
He turned to her, tears in his eyes. "This is my place of shame," he said. "I worked very hard to make sure your name would not be here."
"Is that what you tell yourself? There's no shame here, Bean. There's only love. And that's why I belong here--with the other lonely girls who gave their hearts to you."
Bean turned to her, put his arms around her, and wept into her shoulder. He had grown, to stand tall enough for that. "They saved my life," he said. "They gave me life."
"That's what good people do," said Petra. "And then they die, every one of them. It's a damned shame."
He gave one short laugh--whether at her small levity or at himself, for weeping, she did not know. "Nothing lasts long, does it," said Bean.
"They're still alive in you."
"Who am I alive in?" said Bean. "And don't say you."
"I will if I want. You saved my life."
"They never had children, either one of them," said Bean. "No one ever held either Poke or Carlotta the way a man does with a woman, or had a baby with them. They never got to see their children grow up and have children of their own."
"By Sister Carlotta's choice," said Petra.
"Not Poke's."
"They both had you."
"That's the futility of it," said Bean. "The only child they had was me."