The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere 037: Profane Ambition (

DIRECTOR: My... Apologies for the interruption, ladies and gentlen. I'm afraid we've run into so technical issues regarding the next scene due to take place in the production. DIRECTOR: I won't trouble you with excessive detail. Suffice it to say, we've encountered so 'chanical failures' with so of the 'stage equipnt'. No doubt due to soone failing to sort it properly after the last show, despite going out of my way to remind them every damn ti... DIRECTOR: In any event, there's nothing for it. Our actors are too rigid to adapt and perform it anyway, so we're going to have to skip it. DIRECTOR: I don't think it will interfere with the plot too much, fortunately - it's fairly minor, just a short conversation involving... My god, it's like these notes were written by a child... DIRECTOR: Well, it's between the protagonist and a minor character, taking place sowhere between the previous set and the next one, which is set back in her private chambers. I'm fairly certain it's filler, so I wouldn't concern yourself with it overmuch. DIRECTOR: Still, this is very unprofessional, so please accept my most sincere apologies, as well as those of the production staff. We've arranged to have a handout distributed to keep you entertained while we sort things out over the next few minutes. DIRECTOR: What? I don't... Oh, right. DIRECTOR: I've been 'reminded' that a new rule, concerning the reliability of the handout, would add greater substance to the activity. So, let's get that done. 4. ALL SUPPLENTAL MATERIAL PRESENTED OUT-OF-NARRATIVE IS GUARANTEED TO BOTH EXIST IN-UNIVERSE AS SHOWN AND TO BE FROM THE STATED SOURCE, BUT OTHERWISE MAY BE UNRELIABLE DIRECTOR: For example, if you were to be shown a chapter of an encyclopedia, and were told it was from a specific date and volu, those facts could be taken as a certainty. A trick such as later saying the content you were shown was actually a version misrembered by a character, rather than the original, would be strictly forbidden. DIRECTOR: And regarding the 'as shown' part, that's to clarify that there will also be no attempts by us to obfuscate the truth by removing or editorializing the content. If one were to take a page from a history book and remove a paragraph from the middle without notifying the reader, it could leave them with a completely incorrect understanding of the content. Thus, it would not be permitted. DIRECTIOR: However, that's as far as it goes. Unlike the perspective of the protagonist, no assurances are to be given regarding the accuracy of the material. After all, history books and encyclopedias are all too often incorrect-- PLAYWRIGHT: Say, did you know that 'encyclopedia' cos from the sa root word as 'cyclops'? They both co from kuklos, aning circle. In the latter example, it's obviously combined with 'ops' to make 'round eye', whereas in the forr it's part of the phrase enkuklios paideia, aning 'well-rounded education'! Pretty interesting that a turn of phrase like that would translate so gracefully, isn't it? PLAYWRIGHT: Ow! That hurt! DIRECTOR: Once again, please pardon the interjection. We hope you continue enjoying the production. Thank you. PLAYWRIGHT: I was just trying to liven up your boring explanation-- 𒊹 CONTEXT: Letter sent from Dr. Cheng Gue via Oreskios Pyli District Post Office, to Dr. Adul of Juraid, Apartnt 286 of Blessed Reach Communal Tower, Grand Market prefecture, Old Yru. Delivered September 27th, 1400. Sealed as sensitive material, obligating special diligence by the postmaster. Old friend, Apologies for not having written sooner, despite my assurances at the conference that I intended to resu the habit. It has been a long sumr, and Irena and I have been struggling during our recent move to the outer city. They say that it's irresponsible to raise children without a proper house, and while that might very well be true, whoever 'they' were must have had the luxury of living in an economy where you didn't have to drive yourself deep into luxury debt to purchase even a crumbling ruin with 3 bedrooms and a half-decent garden. It's been one disaster after another, first with the roof, then the pipework, and now with a strange sll from the attic that's proving impossible to remove. I suspect a dead animal embedded sowhere unpleasant, but we've had two people co in and leave clueless, and I'm not about to cancel our yearly excursion to Tem-Aphat to lease an arcanist, so we're at the rcy of the city council. I'm still not much of a revolutionary, but the whole experience has definitely made rethink my vote for the Reformists Union co the next election. But enough about my troubles. I hope that you and Beletsunu are well, and your practice is still benefiting from the upswing of good press from your last journal publication. There's so much I could tell you about my daughters, both of whom have just begun preschool this past week, but I know that neither you nor your wife have ever been taken with such stories, so I'll spare you the typical gushing of a recent father. I'll only say that they are both my pride and joy, and brilliant beyond my furthest expectations. Irene complains often about their only middling resemblance to , but I know all too well that anima scripting is an inexact science, and it does not bother overmuch. Though for her sake, I am hoping the issue may lessen as they grow older. Unfortunately, it is here that I must confess to you that I am not writing this letter out of a earnestly singular desire to renew our acquaintance. Rather, there is also a professional matter at my own practice which I have been struggling with, and I hoped once again to benefit from your greater experience and expertise in the psychological aspects of pneumology. To be frank with you, it's sothing I should likely have consulted the Office of Arcane Oversight about already, but the situation is delicate enough that I could see it inflicting my professional record with a serious smirch if I'm not careful, so I'd prefer to exhaust all other options. So if you would consider offering your opinion, I'd be most grateful. The issue concerns a particular inductee I took on in the early spring of 1397, and I'm sure even saying that much has already raised several alarms. Now, obviously I cannot go into detail, but I feel safe in saying that she is a young woman local to the city from a not-insignificant family, which of course worsens everything else I am about to describe by several degrees. In our initial eting, she ca across as intellectually mature and with a high degree of self-consciousness, both qualities you would expect to exemplify an ideal candidate for the initiation process. She passed all of the usual competency tests with an exceptional degree of confidence, and though she expressed so disquiet with the process during our initial eting, I was able to soothe these reservations without too much difficulty. After this, I submitted my approval and scheduled her at the local pneumorium, with one of my acolytes in attendance (as is the standard practice here) and for the two months following I thought no more of it. However, at the end of April, I received a request for an appointnt from her without a stated reason offered to my secretary, and imdiately grew concerned. Once we were alone, she described - albeit in a very awkward manner - what I thought I recognized as an unfortunate but clear case of type-III assimilation failure, professing limited to no association with her present mories and a vivid recollection of a conflicting identity. She inquired as to the bizarre possibility of her identity being sohow disentangled and rehoused, to which I corrected her misunderstanding and detailed the standard treatnt plan, along with the highly optimistic prospects for resolution if followed. I also reminded her of her obligations towards discretion regarding the issue, regardless of what she chose to do. Now, I will be honest. As we've spoken of before, I have had only five type-III cases during my career, and in those instances, the greater issue than the treatnt itself was convincing the patients that it was desirable and necessary. So I had fully anticipated her to refuse and simply adapt to hiding her symptoms either indefinitely or until self-resolution, as is so often the case. But to my surprise, she agreed almost instantly, displaying almost relief at the idea of achieving associative compliance, regardless of the effect on her current self-understanding. Pleasantly surprised, I initiated treatnt. At first, things moved very promisingly. She did not profess any inherent disquiet with her physical body, and beca outwardly indistinguishable from our first eting within only a few months. However, self-reported association levels remained anomalously low, even for a type-III patient. Other abnormalities soon also began to arise, such as a refusal (more by deflection than explicit) to discuss her false mories during the counseling process, and general inconsistencies regarding her reported psychological state. For example, she initially showed almost none of the textbook signs of discomfort with modern technology and culture, but soon after this was discussed, began to report said symptoms with regularity... Forgive , I am over-explaining the situation, and at this rate I fear I will need to send two letters! I will get to the point. While so limited progress was made, the first two years of treatnt sadly ended in stagnation, and I pivoted my expectations towards partial assimilation, only for this, too, to result in failure. Though I have only ever presided over one such unfortunate case before, by this point I was well-anticipating it as the likely resolution, and had made my peace with it. As procedure dictates, I made arrangents to have the patient's counselor as well as an official from the Office be present for the next appointnt, and notified them of my professional opinion and hope to discuss long-term palliative care, the alliance stipend, and so forth. However, when she heard of this arrangent, she beca extrely agitated and refused outright to co to the practice, only reconsidering when I agreed to abandon the aforentioned ntioned plans and et her alone. When I did, she outright refused any suggestion about a discontinuation of treatnt, insisting we persist for the coming year. When I retorted in explaining that there was no treatnt plan present for a fourth year as there had never been a recorded case of even partial recovery following that landmark, she responded with an uncharacteristic hostility which can only be called manic, quoting statents I made during our first eting and even making threats both legal and against my professional reputation. Had it not been for her background, I likely would have firmly refused, but in the face of such a scandal (and the other stressors in my life I discussed earlier) I was cowed, and agreed against all professional sense to simply repeat the third year plan in the vague hope that a different result might erge. Yes, I know what you are thinking - 'how could I ever have associated with such a complete fool'? And yes, in retrospect, this is a choice I regret significantly, as for the past five months I have been facing no end of questions from my subordinates, while obviously no progress towards an actual resolution has been made. During this ti, I have made repeated entreaties to the patient to consider accepting the situation with all manner of argunts: Attempting to assuage her apparent guilt by assuring her she is still a continuation of her original self while framing her current condition as a re psychological blip that will pass with the coming of the decades, doing the exact opposite and telling her she is well within her moral rights to cut all ties and start a new life wholesale elsewhere, and even, in desperation, suggesting she could simply abandon any complex ambitions for the ti being and live a comfortably placid life of relative isolation off the stipend! In all cases I am violently rebuffed. She is singularly obsessed with an impossible goal, and I do not know what is to be done. If it went only this far, perhaps I would already have elected to take whatever consequences may co on the chin, and you would be spared this andering rant. But unfortunately, what I have discussed thus far is not the primary reason I opted to write you this letter. You see, after her demand, the discrepancy in her behavior from that of typical type-III patients finally drove to wonder if sothing had gone amiss with the Induction itself, which led to try and track down whichever acolyte at my practice oversaw it. But to my bemusent, the one listed in the official records (Hua Kan, if you rember her from your visit) professed not to have been present on that day at all, due to being preoccupied with another patient. Chasing it up with my secretary, she'd apparently been inford that the girl had filled in for another of my understudies due to his absence on account of a leg injury, but speaking to him, he insisted that referred to another instance later in the week. No matter who I spoke to, the story went in circles. And when I went to the pneumorium myself, their records for the patient's induction were starkly odd, detailing an initial response far too conventional for a type-III case, and listing the overseeing physician as an acolyte who left my practice to found his own seven years ago, on the other side of the Mimikos! Of course, if this whole situation is the result in so kind of unusual mistake in the attunent process that is now being crudely covered up by either one of my subordinates or the pneumorium's workers, I shall be the one forced to fall on my sword if any fuss is made about the situation. An outco which seems, unfortunately, increasingly likely. So now you see the extent of my dilemma, Adul. I am caught between what is, despite the sorrowful character of the circumstance, clearly in the best interests of my patient, and the preservation of my career. Because her ntal state appears to differ so profoundly from anything I have been taught to expect, I have no idea what outco will co should I deliver so manner of ultimatum, but I anticipate it would not be a good one. So, I appeal to your greater base of knowledge. Have you encountered or heard of any cases such as this, in your many more years of practice than I? I often feel that the nature of our work as sothing which must be obfuscated to the general public often leads to gulfs in the more anecdotal knowledge required for when conventional wisdom fails. If there is anything you can think of that I might say to soothe this girl or - gods - do to pass this ss on to so other party, then I would be profoundly grateful to hear of it. And as much as the content of this letter might suggest otherwise, I'm also eager to hear of the more mundane on-goings of your life. Has anything been troubling you, as well? Do you have any plans for further endeavors of research, as we discussed back in January? For how long I've gone on here, I'd be more than happy to offer my assistance, however tedious you insist the work may be! Let know. And give my regards to your wife, as well as all our colleagues in the city. I am adamant I will make a visit next year, even if our new roof collapses on our heads and I am forced to retrain myself as a grocer. Best regards as always,Cheng Gue 𒊹 Abbey House | 2:05 PM | Second Day I should've thrown it out, really. But I didn't. I made it back to my chambers, feeling stupid for having bothered to bring all the stuff for my presentation the first ti. But if I'd left whatever was in Zeno's box lying around in my bag all through the afternoon, it would have been way too much of a distraction. Better to get it out of the way so I could stay focused on the conclave and everything else. ...although, why was I even taking that jerk's advice? I should have just opened the stupid thing in the middle of the field when there was nobody around. Maybe waved it up at the tower too, just so they knew how seriously I was taking their over-the-top claims. You're already here now. C'mon, just get on with it. I dumped the bag on my bed and fished out the wooden box. Without ceremony, I popped it open. I wasn't sure what exactly I expected. Maybe a small part of had been hoping for so imdiately impressive mystical object, that would banish my doubts and vindicate Zeno's warning completely. But it was just a complicated-looking key - one of those thicker ones with multiple heads and wards you sotis saw used for banks. It wasn't even made of anything particularly fancy. Just bronze. Seeing the thing, it wasn't hard to guess roughly what was going on, based on what I'd witnessed about how things worked here so far: There was probably so fancy vault in the sanctuary filled with all the order's most important secrets and revolutionary discoveries, that all the inner circle mbers needed to insert their keys in to access. They'd never filled my grandfather's position, and so this had never passed on. And now, I had this once-in-a-lifeti chance to bask in the fruits of their Great Work myself! I was starting to understand why Neferuaten ca across as so frustrated with it half the ti. Increasingly, it felt like a cult that had forgotten to co up with a god. I dumped it in the pocket of my robes anyway. I didn't doubt there really was so impressive new innovation the order had co up with that they were planning to unveil to the world in the near-future, sothing that perhaps explained so of the stranger parts of the sanctuary - Zeno seed like the type to exaggerate, not outright lie. Maybe the Everblossom grew fruit that could make the years fall away from the body, like sothing out a fairy tale. Maybe this whole place was actually so secret bio-fortress, designed to be so insulated from pathogens that it could be used as a testbed for so entirely new form of life. Maybe the tower was a gigantic ray weapon. The possibilities were endless, but it just wasn't sothing I could bring myself to care much about at this point. Still, there was no good reason to close off my options. My nature, after all, was still one of curiosity. Even under these circumstances. I refilled my water from the sink, then headed back downstairs. My stomach grumbled as I passed the kitchen, but I vaguely recalled sothing about an 'outdoor' lunch that was supposed to be happening right before the event started, and so suppressed my urge to grab a snack. Everyone in the lounge seed to have cleared out, including the golem, so I didn't linger. I headed to the front door-- "Hey, Su, hold on a sec!" I turned in the direction of the voice, coming from my left. It was Seth, sprinting over to with a more anxious expression than normal, but that he'd still managed to contort into a smile. An overly-stuffed shoulder bag was slung over his shoulder. His own presentation, most likely. "Oh, hi," I said. "What's up?" "You're headed over to the main building, right? For the conclave." I nodded. "I'd assu that's what everyone's doing." "Yeah," he said, and hesitated for just a mont before going on. "I'm going there too, but would you mind helping out with sothing? Just a quick detour when we get there." I furrowed my brow. "What sort of thing did you have in mind?" "I'll explain on the way," he said, getting the door. "No pressure, though!" "Sure," I said, stepping out. We headed down the garden path, past the vibrant assembly of roses and lilies that surrounded the door and looped all the way around the entire building. By the ti we were off the porch, he was already deep into an explanation. That was probably Seth's best quality. He was very to-the-point, when there was actually sothing worth being to-the-point about. It was why he was a better leader than Kamrusepa, even though Kam was probably a little more cunning and quicker to give orders. "Basically, I need sobody to co with to the place where they handle security and stuff here who won't go blabbing about it to everybody. I need to do a luxury debt transfer, and the law in my city is that you need a witness present to do that over the logic sea." There were a lot of questions that ca to mind about this imdiately. I started with the one that might lead to the least effort on my part. "Wouldn't you feel better asking Ptolema or Theo, for sothing like this?" "Ema?" He laughed. "You gotta be kidding, she couldn't keep a secret if you sewed her mouth shut." "That's harsh," I said. "I an, don't get wrong, she's great!" He said, smiling widely. "But uh, not for sothing like this. And Theo-- Well, he's got so other stuff going on right now, so I don't wanna bother him." Ah, so I was right, then, I thought. "But you're honest and good at keeping secrets in the sa way he is, Su, so you're a good stand in," he said cheerfully. "Well, that and you happened to be around at the right ti after I left all my paperwork behind like a stupid asshole, heh." "Aren't 'honest' and 'good at keeping secrets' oxymoronic traits?" I asked, as we begun to leave the garden behind. "Y'know what I an," he said. "You're not the type of person to screw other people over for kicks or because it might get you sothing, but you don't let stuff slip out when people pressure you or because you know what's best for everyone. Shit, I rember that ti you caught helping Theo cheat a bit after his cat died and he couldn't keep up with the coursework. Your face was like a block of lead every ti the professor was in the room for a week." I snorted. "Well, I was making a moral stand. In my opinion, people ought to be able to take a whole year off if they lose a cat." I turned away from him, facing the path ahead. "And I don't know about that. I've definitely screwed over at least one person pretty spectacularly." "Heh, I bet when soone manages to make an enemy of you, the earth is salted by the ti you're done with 'em, Su." "That's one way to put it," I said, my eyes wandering up to the roof. "So if you're taking on soone's luxury debt, why are we going to the security center, exactly?" "Saci's on shift there right now. Got an appointnt to give her a bribe," he explained casually. My eyes widened a bit, and I raised an eyebrow. "A bribe." "Er, yeah," he said, letting out a couple laughs of embarrassnt. "It's not as serious as it sounds. Had a bit of a situation earlier and, well, now she's taking for a couple hundred." He folded his arms. "Can hardly bla her too much, honestly. If I had a job like this, with a bunch of spoiled rich kids making assess of themselves right in front of , I'd wanna stake a claim or two. Can't imagine the order's paying her much." "They're actually paying her nothing," I said, rembering Zeno's explanation. "It's sort of an internship thing." "What?" He frowned. "That's fucked." "You're taking being extorted very casually," I said flatly. He shrugged. "The fact that I can afford to ans I can't complain. Honestly, it's the least of the shit I have to worry about this weekend. At least once we're done here, I'll be able to forget about it." "If I'm going to be a participant in all this, I'd kind of like to know what exactly is going on," I said, my face more curious than serious. "If you don't mind, I an." "You sure you wanna know?" he asked, brows raised. "By getting in on it, you're giving permission to induct you into the special club where I bitch and moan about it constantly." "Are there any club privileges?" "Yeah," he said. "When everything blows up in my face, you get to laugh instead of feeling horrified pity." He glanced to . "Also, if you play your cards right, I might buy you a cheap dinner on Monday night. Platonically, obviously. I'm not that much of a creep." "Pretty enticing," I said, sardonic. "Tell ." He sighed, making a humming noise to himself in a few thoughtful tones, and stretched his arms behind his back. "So, short version, and Ezekiel got into a fight." I frowned. The dirty clothes. "Like, physically?" "Mostly just shouting, but so of that towards the end, too." "When?" I asked. "...why?" "Kinda throughout the whole trip here, but mostly at the end in the transposition chambers. You should have seen the lady they sent to escort us-- She looked about ready to break whatever taboo they have and follow us right in to make sure we didn't kill each other, or maybe drag us both by our ears back to the Aetherbridge." He chuckled, then sighed. "As for the second question... That's kinda complicated. You rember the presentations we did for the winter solstice conference, few months back?" "Of course," I said. "That was when I showed the first version of the project I'm using for this one." He grinned. "We're gonna see more pigeon zombies, huh?" "Don't start that with ," I said, turning my nose up in faux-offfense. "I had enough of it from Ptolema and Kam yesterday. Get back to your story." "Heh, right. So... Back then, I was actually kinda, dealing with so shit," he confessed. "My brother had got into a huge fight with my parents, to the point they were talking about basically kicking him out of the family, and I was stuck in the middle, with them all kind of blaming for being a flake. Needless to say, the stress was really fucking with the whole smartest-students-in-the-world thing we're supposed to do here." "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, with genuine sympathy. "That sounds awful." "Yeah, well... What can you do, I guess." He shrugged. We were approaching the gateway to the next bioenclosure, now. "Anyway, I managed to keep my numbers up, but started to fall behind on supplental crap. So my project for it was in a pretty sorry state. But, I didn't want to flunk down to the regular class, so I took a devil's bargain." "You asked Ezekiel for help," I said. "Yep," he said, with a nod. "Real stupid decision, huh? Of all the people." I thought about this remark for a mont. "I an... For all his faults, other than Fang, he's easily the fastest worker in the class. If anyone would be able to handle a double workload without too much trouble, it'd be him." I looked at him. "Why didn't you ask , though? I'm not much worse, and, uh, probably a lot easier to work with. At the risk of being presumptuous." "Heh, well," he rubbed the back of his head. "Like I always say, you're a really serious girl, Su. I would've felt kinda embarrassed asking soone like you to help break the rules because I couldn't get my shit together." "But you don't mind telling now?" "Well, I guess it all feels kinda redundant at this point." He shook his head. "Anyway, he was shitty about it, but agreed to do a pile of research and citations for , in exchange for helping out him in the sa way when he called in the favor. I didn't have much choice, so I went with it. To his credit, it was actually super good work. Basically did the whole docuntation part of the project for , without making it easy to tell." "Geez," I said. "I think I know where this is going. I'm guessing he called in the favor for this weekend, right?" "Got it in one," he said. He stepped to the side and pulled the lever to the gateway, causing it to begin the slow process of opening. "Wanted to help him with his own research so he could finish pursuing sothing on his own - so extra project to suck up to the old bastards here. Gave a big list of stuff to do like three weeks ago. Shorter then what I asked for, but still... Pretty big list." He leaned against the side of the narrow tunnel while we waited. "Unfortunately, it turns out that if you're so neck-deep in personal bullshit that it's making it hard to work, said bullshit isn't generally in the habit of vanishing in a pink fart cloud in, like, 3 months." "Mm, I'd imagine," I said, as the door finished sliding open. "Especially not to the point where you can take on a pile of extra work when you're already behind. He nodded grimly as he stepped through the door. "I won't try to act like I'm the good guy, or even a victim here. I couldn't do the work, and I didn't do the smart thing and tell him that right away, since I figured he'd be a prick about it. So I worked on my own presentation and kept putting it off. And off, and off..." I followed after him. "When did you tell him?" "Yesterday morning, before the assembly." He groaned. "Stupid of . He acted like it was no big deal at first, but as soon as it was just us and the other two, he started getting real passive aggressive, talking about how everything was ruined. Then getting more and more explicit, until Theo and Bard basically had a clear picture." His face grew more serious, his eyes looking tired. "Then, when we were alone in the transposition chamber... He used the Power to smash so of my luggage. My project." I didn't say it, but I sympathized with Ezekiel more than I'd ever expected here. Petty as hell as the gesture sounded, Seth had probably sabotaged his own even more through his actions. Practical components could be fixed, or form the basis of a genuine excuse for a dysfunctional project if you passed it off as an accident. A lack of docuntation... Not so much. It was strange, in general, to hear about all this from him. I'd always thought of him as one of the most reliable people in the class - not fanatical about work, but steadfast and always level-headed, deep down. I guess it was another reminder that the 'geniuses' who surrounded were still just ordinary people past the pretense, like I was. "That sucks," I said, instead of all that. "Yeah," he said. "So, I lost my temper. Punched him a couple tis in the face. Then he elbowed so hard it broke one of my ribs." "Holy shit," I said, wide eyed. "Yeah, no kidding. Made thank the gods I'm a biomancer," he said, his tone weary. "Never would've expected a little guy like him to be so tough." He took a breath, then exhaled slow, before turning back to with a renewed. "Anyway. Turned out Saci had started wondering what the hell was taking us so long, ca down, heard and saw basically everything. Helped us clean up and agreed to keep it a secret, I offered to pay her off as a joke, she took it seriously and gave a ti. So there you go. Now you know." "I guess I do," I said, and was silent for a mont, taking it all in. "Is that why you wanted to see Ezekiel yesterday? And why he hasn't been around much?" "Uh-huh. I've been trying to speak to him to apologize... Maybe work sothing out... But he's been stuck up in his chambers since we got here. Probably cramming out as much research as he can." He sighed. "Right now, I guess we're at a standoff. We could both snitch on the other for cheating... And, uh, probably breaking the law in a bunch of ways, yesterday... But not without getting ourselves kicked out of the class, too. It's a screwed-up situation. And it's all my fault." "I don't think it's your fault," I said almost instinctively, although, to be honest, it probably was his fault. "This whole class is screwed up at a foundational level, really. It's all just a publicity stunt. The kind of workload we get doesn't help any student." "I appreciate you saying that, Su, really. But I knew what I signed up for. I'm prepared for the consequences, no matter what happens." In that mont, I couldn't help but find his attitude kind of cool, even if he had made so bad decisions. Perhaps he did have an essential maturity that most of the class lacked. Just of a different nature then I'd assud. "What do you think you'll do?" I asked, as the eyesore of the main building once again lood overhead. "Not sure. But I guess I'll probably be seeing him for the first ti since all that in a few minutes, so I hope I can co up with sothing fast." He smiled hopelessly. "Thanks for listening, either way." "Honestly, I'm surprised you told ," I said, making an effort to smile back. "If it were , I wouldn't want anyone else to know, just to minimize the risk. Even if I did think they were trustworthy." "Hey, you asked. And you were right-- I'm getting you involved, so you're entitled to know. Besides," he said, yawning a bit as he emphasized the word. "Like I said, it's not a question of trust. I know you won't say anything, Su. You've got that power." "Power?" "To lock stuff down," he explained. "So it never shows on your outward self at all." I thought about this for a mont, my eyes staring into the middle distance. "Yeah," I said. "I guess I do."