My feelings when we packed up and walked back over to the freighter were best described as confusing.
On the one hand, I was very pleased with the way my inventions had worked. On the other hand was the fact that I was still seething at the way Michael had arranged for a talk between Vandermeer and me.
While we were walking, Naveen came a bit closer to me.
“Have you made any progress with the tractor beam and the shields?”
Yep, he had to ruin the parts of my emotions that were happy. Well, not fully.
“I have. The tractor beam is a bit complicated, and it will be rather short-range, around 200, maybe 250m, and it will be dang expensive, but it will work.”
So far the good news. And to be honest, the tractor beam was a valuable tool.
“The shield… in theory, it will work. But in reality, it is unfeasible. To defend one of our blocks against the typical weaponry of a single grav destroyer, it would need around 80% of the output of the Excelsior. And even then it would be only able to take two or three hits before the couplings would melt.
To make it work on earth, we would need giga-Keppler coils, maybe even terra-Keppler. And… you know what I think about that. It’s just not worth it.”
“I see. It was worth a shot.” It did not seem as if he was taking the news too hard. We watched for a moment while the big bots put the weapons back into their respective containers before we moved along into the passenger compartment.
To be honest, my only previous experience with grav ships was a bit different from what I found here in the Isimud. To be fair, I thought the name was a bit highbrow for a simple freighter. I mean, get real, in mythology, Isimud was the attendant of Enki, a god in his own rights.
But I kept my mouth shut about it. It was, after all, our first grav ship. The thing was, it was brand new. Shiny new chromed metal parts, soft, comfortable synth leather, soft carpet, and the new grav ship smell.
Oh, and of course the usual entertainment stuff. Not that any of us needed it. Even the techs from the R&D department had taken the offer and gotten the premium package.
Nonetheless, when Michael got himself a drink and brought me a coke, we sat in a conversation group. Maynard and Naveen followed Michael’s example.
When we were all sitting in the comfortable seats, Michael lifted his glass with some amber-colored liquid on the ice in a toast:
“To a very successful weapon test.”
We all responded to his toast, clinking our glasses together.
When we leaned back into our plush seats, I turned to Michael, and could not keep the smugness completely out of my voice, when I spoke up:
“So, do you agree that we don’t need the help of Vandermeer? I would say we can defend ourselves quite well, don’t you?”
Naveen’s muttered comment: “And then some…” did of course nothing to curb my satisfaction. Only for Michael to shake his head.
“Sorry, but no can do, princess. The meeting is still on.§
I felt like ice was flowing through my veins, and paradoxically, at the same time, I felt the heat of anger, rage really, rising up in my head.
With, what I perceived as nearly superhuman effort, I managed to remain somewhat calm when I snarled:
“Did, or did I not, prove that we do not need better radar? Is Palantír not better than any fucking radar ever can be? Is there any reason for us to whore me out to get better radar tech when the radar we have only serves as a smoke screen for the real sensor we use?”
Michael took a deep sip from his drink and then sighed.
“There are several reasons. And I am not whoring you out! For one, if we want to keep Palantír a secret, we need to be seen to make some effort in getting better radar technology. Or everybody else will wonder why we don’t.
And the moment they learn about Palantír, everybody will try to steal it.
But that is unimportant. We could get the same effect by negotiating with other weapon manufacturers to buy their tech.”
He made a pause, swirled his drink, and took another sip.
“But I’ve gone to some length to arrange your meeting with Vandermeer. I think it is important.”
“So, you’ve decided to suck up to the First Councilor of the Commonwealth? Is that it? Or to the owner and CEO of an emerging triple-A corporation?”
“Listen to yourself, V. I am the CEO of what will be a triple-A in a few years. In five years at the outset, nobody will dare to cross me. I do not need to suck up to anybody.”
“Then why the fuck do you try to allay his guilty conscience?”
Abruptly, Michael slammed his glass into the cupholder on his seat and jumped up. He made the two steps to stand directly in front of my seat.
“Fuck, Viv, I don’t give a flying fuck if some old man in Seattle that I’ve never met has some emotional pain or not. This is not about soothing his pain, it is about yours. So what if he decides to eat a gun? I don’t care. He suffers? That is his own problem.
But what I do care about is that you are suffering too. Yes, I know, you tell yourself and anybody that you scraped all that stuff off the soles of your shoes. You might even believe it. But you haven’t. You are still raging inside.
Your friends told me how you acted last Christmas. That is not healthy.
And you know what, the way Vandermeer behaves does not fit into how you say he treated you.”
When I opened my mouth to protest, he placed a few fingers on it, silencing me.
“No, don’t bother. I know that you did not lie. Fuck, you can’t lie for shit. What I am saying is that what you remember and what I see simply doesn’t add up. Something is fucking wrong here. And you are suffering for it. And because of that, I want you to speak to him.
You need this!”
He took his fingers from my mouth, and I growled.
“FINE! But I will not forget this soon, you can believe me.”
He shook his head smiling sadly.
“If I am wrong, I will take my lumps, believe me. But if I’m right… I simply can’t leave that possibility on the table. For your sake.”
After he said that, he stomped back to his seat and let himself fall into it, breathing hard.
Naveen looked from him to me, with a tilted head and narrowed eyes.
“You know Nathan Vandermeer?”
I closed my eyes, and silently counted to ten, trying to calm down.
Not particularly successful though, and so my answer was more a hiss than speech:
“Never even met the man, or spoke to him on the com, so no. I don’t know him.”
“But something is going on here. Do I need to know what?”
Still furious, I snarled:
“No, you don’t. That’s the end of it.”
Michael softly continued:
“If anything, it will make your work a bit easier. That is all.”
“If you say so. But I have to say that this is a bit of a problem. I am your chief of security, and if anything impacts the security of you, the other officers, or the corporation, I have to know it.”
I rolled my eyes but did say nothing. Michael shook his head but answered.
“It is something private and very painful for Vivian. And very personal. So, don’t dig further, ok?”
“Ok, but I don’t like it.”
I would love to say that I had the maturity and strength of character to stand above all of this, and remain cordial and friendly.
Unfortunately, this was one of those situations where my biological age at the tail end of puberty ruled. And I already knew that I would ‘enjoy’ those hormones and mood swings for a long long time. I mean, the oldest of the K4 is 29 by now, and he still looked, and behaved, like he was 18.
But long story short, I sort of sulked in a huff and withdrew into cyberspace.
I had no intention of working on anything specific, I was just killing time right then. That meant that I started with the first courses of the energy tech program that I had downloaded nearly a year ago.
Naturally, I skipped all the courses that I had, in one way or another, already taken. No need to go through Physics 101 again. That still left me with roughly two years of courses.
This program was much more forthcoming with the actual information that I wanted than the gravitics course had been.
When we arrived back in NYC, I could not say that I was in any way over my snit, and when Michael held me back when I was on the way to my T 240, I did not react with any sort of decorum.
Instead, I hissed a “What?” at him.
He looked at me, with hurt in his eyes, but also with some determination.
“I know you are mad right now. But… you know what I think. So, the meeting is Saturday, at 10 AM. Warden has the address.”
I shrugged and turned away from him.
I can’t say that I managed to get much done for the next two days, and even Ben commented on my funk. And even more on how I pointedly ignored Michael.
I was considering simply ignoring Michael’s ‘orders’ and simply not meeting with Vandermeer but in the end, my sense of honor did not let that happen. Michael had sort of talked for me when he made this appointment, and I’ve never blown any agreement on a snit.
Don’t get me wrong, I have broken agreements, but it was almost always because the other side either abused it, or they broke it first.
Or what I agreed to was simply not possible for me to fulfill, though that happened rarely.
But while I was intending to meet with Vandermeer, I fully expected the meeting to be cold and adversarial.
I was determined to be formally courteous, but not a single iota more. If Vandermeer expected a tearful reunion with his long-lost family, I would advise him to not hold his breath until it happened.
Accordingly, I clothed my avatar in a severe, black, almost military-seeming pantsuit. At the same time, its hair was put into a strict bun.
Honestly, if the avatar had been taller, it would have been almost fearsome in its cold acerbity.
I did my best to steel my resolve otherwise. And then the big day came. It took me a few minutes to make myself move to the provided matrix address, even though the actual transfer was done in less than a second, thanks to the cluster's original Q-link.
But I had planned ahead for that and was actually a few minutes early. Nobody would be able to say that I stepped even one Angström beyond propriety.
The viron was something similar to Ben’s library. With way fewer books and a more modern take on the furniture though.
And the fireplace was actually lit. I supposed here in cyberspace there was no scarcity of wood, so there was no real problem here. I was just unaccustomed to seeing open fire anywhere.
I was greeted by a, for Pure standards, small man, with hair the same color I had when I left Seattle. He looked pretty good for being 86 years old, but as one of the 30 richest people alive, he had access to the very best medical care.
Interestingly, he looked nervous. That was hearable in his voice too when he greeted me:
“Welcome, Vivian. It is nice to meet you.” He said it softly, and with some hesitation, but I could not detect any malice. Yet.
My answer was way less friendly, I have to confess:
“Good morning, Mr. Vandermeer.”
He instantly slumped and sighed.
“So… cold.”
I had reduced the involuntary movement of my avatar to almost nothing, so my only reaction was verbal:
“Did you expect anything else?” It took me quite a bit of effort to keep my voice and diction neutral. This was one of the architects of my torture after all. A minor architect, yes, but still one of them.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
He shook his head with a sad expression and pointed at one of the chairs.
“Sit down, please.”
I followed his prompt without any shown emotion or wasted movement. When we both were sitting, he sighed again but remained silent for a moment.
I on the other hand did not want to spend more time in the presence of this man, even if only virtual, than I absolutely had to.
“You wanted this meeting. So, what did you want to say?”
Again, he winced when he heard my inflection, but took a deep breath, before he finally began talking:
“Yes. I… I think it is time that we clear some of the bad air between us.”
“There is no air, good or bad, between us.”
“Vivian, please. You are still my granddaughter.”
I shook my head a tiny bit.
“I don’t view myself as that.”
He winced and grimaced again.
“I can understand that. Really, I can… but… I fear you don’t know all that happened. So please let me explain.”
I raised an eyebrow, but otherwise suppressed any other sign of emotion.
“What is there to explain? You had the choice between taking me and my mother in, or letting us suffer and expediting your political ambition.
We both know what you chose, so there is nothing to explain.”
I sighed again.
“That is where you are wrong. I did not have that choice. I’ve never been offered this choice.”
“Are you saying that the leaders of your enemies would have tortured me regardless of your acquiescing to their demands? Please don’t try to lie to me. They’ve informed me since I could talk that it was your intransigence that made them do those things to me.”
Another deep breath.
“Yes, I can believe that they told you that. There is only one problem with that. They could not use you to force me to their demands, because I did not even know you existed.”
Wait, that was completely off-script from what I had expected. The only thing preventing showing my confusion right then was that I had regulated down such things for my avatar.
“Are you seriously telling me that you did not even care enough to know that your daughter had a child?”
He shook his head.
“No, I am saying that they told me that my daughter died, along with her unborn child, around a month before you were born. There was a small riot in the prison where they kept Rebecca. Officially she died during that riot.”
I scoffed harshly.
“I thought they used the opportunity to have her quietly killed. I… even from the likes of Knowles, I did not expect such a… such a viciousness.”
He took another deep breath before he continued.
“I should have. God knows I should have. And I should have looked into it deeper. But… I thought my child had just died. I was… I could not force myself to look deeper into it. For that, I am deeply sorry.”
I had to shake my head. That… was completely out of everything I thought.
“You want me to believe that you did not know that your daughter was still alive? That her daughter was still alive?”
He scoffed again.
“It’s stupid, yes, but… I did not know that Rebecca still lived until Apollo informed me that he had to invalidate her status as a moderator. You were eight at that time I think.
Just to make that clear, I learned that she was alive. Not you. And they had hidden her, you, pretty well, so my people could not find her.”
He sighed again.
“And another time I failed you. I did not even think about questioning Apollo about her child. He knew of you of course. But unless asked, he never tells anything like that.
That meant of course that I did not even know that you existed until you finished high school and he informed me that your moderator status was now active.
When I looked back, I realized that I completely missed the message he sent me that your moderator status had been established per the rules my grandparents set for him.
My only excuse for that is that I was on a bender for half a year. No alcohol of course, or other drugs, but… I did not open any messages at that time and just sat in my office brooding.
If I had not thought that it would be exactly what Knowles wanted I would have killed myself then.”
I… was simply speechless when he told me that.
“I was able to find you and your mother then. Hell, if I had thought about asking Apollo, I would have found you the moment he informed me that her moderator status had been suspended.
My men took a couple of hours to find you and verify that yes, you really are my granddaughter. Unfortunately, they were not cautious enough. Maybe Knowles has expected that I find out about you some time. Who knows.
Important is, that I was informed quietly that if I contacted you, or interacted with you in any way, they would simply kill you. At that time, Panacea had control of the Commonwealth with an iron hand.”
He shook his head again.
“I simply could not risk it. I could not risk you.”
My thoughts were racing through my head, and I had problems focussing on any single point he had just explained. Much less deciding if I believed him or not.
Fortunately for both of us, that decision was taken out of my hands again. Warden appeared beside the low table between Vandermeer and me.
“I can confirm at least some of his points. Your mother was officially declared dead on Thursday, October, 7th 2230. Obviously, that information is false, but I can not confirm if Vandermeer knew it was false.”
The information she conveyed contrasted sharply with the happy melodic tone she used to bring it to us. And it contrasted even more with the mood that was in this viron.
I was so used to her antics by now that I only slightly twitched at her sudden appearance, but Vandermeer literally jumped out of his chair and onto the floor into a defensive posture.
Just to see Warden’s colorful avatar standing completely motionless beside the table.
His “What the fuck, where does she come from?” was admittedly somewhat amusing, but I managed, mostly thanks to the reduced involuntary reaction of my avatar, to refrain from laughing.
Instead, I watched Vandermeer get up from the floor and look closer at Warden.
“From your reaction, or better your lack of one, I assume that is your infamous VI?”
I nodded.
“Indeed, that is Warden. And Warden, have we any proof that this information was not seeded after Panacea and Dalgon had their little misfortune?”
“I confirmed that the information is identical to several dark web archives. Unless Vandermeer has enough power to retroactively change those as well, I see no possibility that it is false.”
Vandermeer dusted his virtual clothes off, before sitting back in his chair.
“You are… suspicious about this.”
I tilted my head and looked at him.
“Would you simply believe a powerful stranger that you’ve held responsible for a significant portion of your torment if he just came out and told you that you were duped and it was actually somebody else? Or would you take steps to confirm what he has told you?”
He nodded while he sighed.
“Yeah, I can understand that. I don’t like it, but I can understand that. Even though you seeing me as a stranger hurts.”
“That is unfortunate, but how else should I view you? We’ve never met, we’ve never talked, we’ve never even exchanged messages. You are a stranger.”
“I know, I know. But it still hurts. You look so much like your mother… just you sitting there, being a living human being instead of just a shell that has not yet died… it just hurts.”
I remained silent, for him to catch himself.
“Now, about your VI, does it always listen in?”
“She is directly connected via Q-link with my implants, so I would say yes anyway, but this time, I am connected through her, so right now it is doubly so.”
He looked at Warden for a moment and nodded slowly.
“I assume I don’t have to lecture you about the dangers of rogue VIs?”
I shook my head.
“Even if I had not known about the risks, I’ve had enough encounters with hypocritical corporations by now that I have absolutely no doubt about it.”
He closes his eyes and massaged his temples for a moment.
“The way you phrase it, I guess you know about the little trap that the corporations put into all the computer courses.”
“I do, not that it is still a secret. It is nicely spelled out in the Panacea dumb. Among other similar stratagems, And I am… a little disappointed that your grandparents actually went along with it.”
He shook his head.
“They had no choice. Not going along would have meant that all the other big corps would have destroyed Vandermeer. And then enact all the things they devised to keep the ‘small people’ small.”
Ok, I could understand that. Not that I was not still disappointed in them, but a moral stance is worth nothing if it just serves to kill you.
But it was time to get back to the actual topic.
“But back to the topic, do you seriously expect me to believe that panacea was so petty and vicious that it psychologically tortured me for years without anything to gain? That simply does not compile.”
He nodded slowly.
“I can understand you. And the answer is simultaneously very easy and pretty complicated.
It is easy as in the fact that Joshua Knowles and his brood are a pack of hyper-spoiled, hyper-arrogant sadistic assholes. For them, everybody not a member of their family is only there to serve them, either for their entertainment, or to get rich off. Yes, I know, that is a very simplistic description, but unfortunately, it is the correct one. I have proof that, before Joshua lost the first councilorship, he managed to have people sentenced to death for trivial stuff. Just to be able to organize what he described as “hunting the most dangerous game”. For him and his clones.
It was, unfortunately, legal the way he did this, or his and his sons' asses would be on death row right now.
In your case there is the added factor that the Knowles have a, well, I think the best description is a blood feud against our family.”
I was confused. A blood feud? Like in medieval times? Are they insane? Apparently, Vandermeer had the same thoughts, as he continued:
“Yes, I know, a feud, in this time and age. But it is sadly true. Not that I will take them out when I can, but I will do it within the laws, and I will mostly do it to end the threat once and for all.”
“But… why? Why does one of the richest families in the world decide to have a fricking blood feud with another rich family? I don’t get it.”
Again, Vandermeer nodded.
“I understand you fully there. It is stupid. Completely irrational even. But it is sadly a fact. It all started before world war 3. Essentially the first generation that was born as Nephilim.
While Paul Simpson, Jessica Proctor, and Jason Vandermeer tried to veer off the looming war, Edward Knowles used his heightened intelligence and his absolute lack of any moral fiber to gain an increasing foothold in the healthcare industry of the United States.
All in all, it was the most profitable industry in the US. And he wanted a stranglehold over it. Then the war happened, and while others put their focus on the war, Knowles took over bigger and bigger parts of the healthcare industry. And became richer and richer for it.
Second only to Simpson, Proctor, and Vandermeer. They sold their new fusactor all over humanity and the new desalinator.”
He made a pause and shook his head.
“One thing I doubt you know because it is deemphasized in the current history plan is that it was not the Nephilim who prepared for the entry into the war. Does anybody really believe that the likes of Knowles and Dalgon would actually put their own resources to the task and prepare?
No, it was a relatively small group of the Nephilim, most prominently SPV. It was my great-grandparents that finally ended the great war. That is where Vandermeer’s tradition as the premier weapon manufacturer comes from.
And then they led the way in rebuilding.
They funded, and pushed, the algae tank project. They redeveloped the desalinator into the purifier we all use today. And yes, it was also them that prepared for the civil war.
And as such, when the Commonwealth was founded, they were the people leading it. They did not have enough power to prevent that abomination of a council, but they were able to temper it quite a bit.
Knowles, and to a lesser extent Jack Dalgon, were not happy with it. They wanted to be god-kings of their empire. But they could not stand each other either.
And so there was an uneasy balance of power. That ended when my grandparents managed to push Apollo through.
Robert Knowles, Edwards son, wanted uneducated sheep that he could push around. Stupid victims, he could fleece and play with. And Paul Vandermeer and Elaine Simpson denied him that. And they were clever enough to lock it in.
That was the moment when Knowles and Thomas Dalgon allied to take over, and do their best to marginalize SPV.
And when Knowles took over the first councilorship from Paul and realized that this position did not come with control of Apollo, he swore eternal enmity between our families.
Yes, we could have ended it if we had just given them Apollo, but… that was a betrayal that none of us could stomach. And each generation of Knowles hated us stronger than the last one because we denied them their pleasure.”
For a moment, Vandermeer was silent, before he snorted derisively.
“Fuck, I don’t think they care, or even know, why they wanted it in the first place. For them, it is simply that they want it, and we are denying it to them. They are like spoiled children in that regard. Or maybe those absolute monarchs of the past.”
He made another pause.
“The thing is, they hate us with a passion and take every chance they can get to make us suffer.”
I… was not completely surprised. I had met people like that before. Not that powerful, but that entitled. But that did not mean that I could comprehend what Vandermeer was saying. Not completely.
“But… if they hate us that much, why did they let me live at all? I was helpless and in their power. Why not just kill me?”
He shook his head with a grim expression.
“They don’t want to eradicate us, they want to make us suffer. Killing you as a baby would not have made you suffer. Your torment did not serve a purpose, it was the purpose. As I know Joshua Knowles, he would have been quite happy to torture you until you could not take it anymore and killed yourself. But to simply end your suffering? Where is the ‘fun’ in that?”
I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose for a moment.
“He has absolutely no clue what he was playing with.” I snorted bitterly but refused to go deeper into the abyss that I had nearly unleashed.
I honestly was not sure if I should believe him or not. Sure, his story made some sort of perverted sense. If Joshua Knowles really was such a monster, and if he really was that untouchable that he could get away with murder, literally, then yes, it was somewhat plausible.
And to be honest, that level of power was not unrealistic in our day and age. But still… there was doubt.
“What I don’t get is, if what you just told me is true… why have you made no attempt to contact me after Knowles was brought down? Why did you remain silent?”
He places his head in his hands and sighed.
“That… is a very loaded question. And it is not that easy to answer. First, you have to realize that when Knowles lost the first councilorship, his family had it for nearly 120 years.
That means for nearly 120 years they ruled the Commonwealth. They’ve created structures and organizations that catered to their whims and moods.
The fact that I had taken over as first councilor did not mean that those structures and organizations were no longer there.”
He shook his head.
“No, they were still very much there. Still a danger. I had to destroy those structures first before I could be sure that you were safe enough to contact.”
He showed a crooked thin smile.
“At least that is the reason that I used to justify it to myself.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t get me wrong, it was all too true, but I could have found a way around it, most likely. No, the real reason, reasons, were shame and fear.”
I frowned inwardly, but thanks to the avatar settings I showed no outward sign of it. What the heck was he afraid for? Thankfully, I did not have to ask, as he continued.
“The fear… I just feared how you would react to me. Knowles took great pleasure in telling me how much he had poisoned you against me. And then, well I failed. I failed as a man, I failed as a father, and I failed as a grandfather. If I had realized how… insane Knowles had gotten… you have to understand, I could have prevented all that.
If I had decided to burn enough political capital to keep Rebecca out of prison… but we thought it was just a way to humiliate us, humble us a bit.
Hell, Rebecca could have prevented it, she would have just had to denounce your father. But… she is… was as stubborn as all of us. She wouldn’t hear of it.
Fuck, even your father could have prevented it. As much as I loved the stubborn, loyal, and honorable goof, he should not have been there. He should not have been in that war.
He was already out. It had been made clear that he would never get any higher in the hierarchy because he married my daughter. Instead, they tried to get him out. And he had accepted it. Had already started the separation process when that braindead imbecile Dalgon-Smythe took over the division.
Julian… he could see from the beginning that Dalgon-Smythe was trouble, and he could not let his men face this stupidity alone if he could do anything to help them.
We all know he couldn’t. Hell, we knew it then. Dalgon-Smythe was way too much of a royal to listen to anybody. But Julian simply could not leave his men alone.”
He scoffed bitterly before he continued:
“But back to the topic, I was very much ashamed. I had failed you, and your mother. Not only could I have prevented it, but if I had had a clear mind in 30…
If I had just kept up with my messages… I would have known that Rebecca survived when Apollo announced your birth.
I would have taken the Vandermeer military and had taken over the Commonwealth then and there. Knowles had gone way too far, and I would have been justified to take him out.”
“They allowed you enough military to take over the NWC?”
He scoffed.
“They thought they didn’t. But keep in mind, Vandermeer is the armory of the Commonwealth. We’ve seen for more than 100 years that at one point or another, a confrontation might become inevitable. Sure, the CDF had 50 men for every one of mine, and that does not even count the Dalgon and Panacea military. But that would have been moot when their weapons stopped working.”
“Then why didn’t you? When you learned how they treated us?”
“Because I could not protect you then. You have to understand that taking that step would mean a civil war. The riots were a cakewalk compared to that. When you and your mother were in prison, it would have been relatively easy. A single location, with limited access. No weapons inside the secure locations. My men could have gone in there and been out with you two in half an hour, and Knowles asslickers could not have prevented it.
When you were 13, and mostly living on your own… the district you were in was a powder keg, only waiting for a spark to go up. The chances of getting you out unharmed were low. Especially as Knowles had put people there with the express order to kill you if something like that happened.
I simply could not risk it.”
I took a deep breath, trying to make sense of my own thoughts, much less of what Vandermeer was telling me. I was not very thriving in that endeavor. Finally, one question burned its way to the forefront of my mind.
“If I understand you correctly, our ancestors could have taken over at any given time. Why didn’t they? Why let this… corruption fester?”
He sighed again.
“Sometimes I ask that myself. The answer is again complicated. But in the end, it boils down to we created the Commonwealth. It was not… easy to watch it rot, but ripping it apart, that was harder. We… always had a bit of hope left that we could push the Commonwealth back onto the correct path.”
He scoffed.
“And in the end, you managed to do it. I still wish you could have been spared the anguish that you went through.”
Uh-oh. He could not mean what I think he meant, could he?