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"He came from somewhere."
"You mean his mind came from somewhere."
"I mean the whole package. I think you're going to end up relying on this boy, betting all our lives on him, and I think you need to know what's going on in his genes. It's a poor second to knowing what's happening in his mind, but that, I suspect, will always be out of reach for you."
"You sent him up here, and then you tell me something like this. Don't you realize that you have just guaranteed that I will never let him move to the top of our selection pool?"
"You say that now, when you've only had him for a day," said Sister Carlotta. "He'll grow on you."
"He damn well better not shrink or he'd get sucked away by the air system." "Tut-tut, Colonel Graff."
"Sorry, Sister," he answered.
"Give me a high enough clearance and I'll do the search myself."
"No," he said. "But I'll get summaries sent to you."
She knew that they would give her only as much information as they thought she should have. But when he tried to fob her off with useless drivel, she'd deal with that problem, too. Just as she would try to get to Achilles before the I.F. found him. Get him away from the streets and into a school. Under another name. Because if the I.F. found him, in all likelihood they would test him -- or find her scores on him. If they tested him, they would fix his foot and bring him up to Battle School. And she had promised Bean that he would never have to face Achilles again.
CHAPTER 8 -- GOOD STUDENT
"He doesn't play the fantasy game at *all*?"
"He has never so much as chosen a figure, let alone come through the portal."
"It's not possible that he hasn't discovered it."
"He reset the preferences on his desk so that the invitation no longer pops up." "From which you conclude ..."
"He knows it isn't a game. He doesn't want us analyzing the workings of his mind."