The Technique of Lesser Cultivation didn’t impart any groundbreaking secrets on Keynes. Lesser Cultivation didn’t differ much from guiding the essence he’d learnt on his own. This technique only tied it up with compacting the essence, mentioned by the system message. It was not much.

The plane started losing altitude until Keynes could tell by the landscape where they were.

Spain.

So a Level 2 rift was in Spain. It didn’t matter. Rifts were scattered all over the world. It only meant that the closest Level 2 rift was in Spain.

The pilot informed him and the troopers about the landing procedure and ten minutes later the plane came to halt with a jerk. Despite his heightened confidence, his heart rate spiked. Because of his photographic memory, reliving Jamaica was all too easy and if he wasn’t careful, it might be worse.

I am only a tool to them, he reminded himself. It stirred anger in him but without the affliction, the anger didn’t try to get out of control.

“Exit the aircraft,” one of the troopers said. Keynes wondered what had happened to Charles Hellscott, the squad leader that had come with Esopp Earl to pick Keynes, Ren, the captain and Murphy Polloc up.

Keynes followed the first trooper outside, his eyes required a second to adjust to the bright light but his body relaxed bathed in the pleasant heat.

A man waited for him. His name was Pizzaro. Dark skin and hair, an official appearance but with a smoothness to it.

“Mr Kid,” he said almost in a butler’s way but he was no butler. “Can you put your aura under control? It’s only Level 2 but has a strength of Level 3.”

In the heat of the moment, Keynes lost the instinctive grip on his spiritual aura. He wasn’t even aware of this until Pizzaro mentioned it. And it took him two minutes to reinstate control. Pizzaro and the troopers didn’t say anything.

“Done.”

“Thank you. My name is Pullman Pizzaro. I am here on behalf of Mr President. He wishes to meet you as soon as possible. Meanwhile, if you have any requests, please do not hesitate but I must warn you that any attempt at running away or reverting to violence will be met with a decisive response. Are we clear?”

He idly nodded to Pizzaro. The airport seemed desolated.

“Where are the planes?”

“It’s Mr President’s private airport. Everything in a radius of fifteen kilometres belongs directly to Mr President. As his aide, I must add a few more warnings. I know about your stunt with Officer McJames. These things will not be tolerated here. You are in the seat of the World Government’s power and you are expected to behave accordingly.”

They quickly covered a distance to the waiting helicopter. Troopers flanked them although giving both men respectable space.

“Shouldn’t it work both ways?”

Pizzaro didn’t react to the statement. They walked in silence until they reached the helicopter.

“Where are we going?” Keynes asked, a little harder this time.

“To Mr President’s mansion.”

“I thought we’d be going straight to the rift.”

Pizzaro froze, his face paled, then he swallowed. He turned his head to Keynes and narrowed his eyes. There was a heavy silence between them until Pizzaro broke it. Keynes was more comfortable with it than he expected.

“Enter the helicopter.”

What was that? He went completely stiff when I mentioned a rift. What is his Talent again? Keynes’s searched his memory but there was no mention of Pizzaro’s Talent.

I forgot about this eventuality. What if Freeman has someone who can read my intention?

Hopefully, Pizzaro didn’t have such Talent.

They got into the helicopter and a short trip later they landed near the mansion that would put to shame the most outrageous houses of billionaires Keynes had read about. Clearly, they hadn’t built it recently, Freeman must have been one of the richest men in the world, despite not being on the list of the top 100 richest people. Strange as it sounded but Keynes had read many conspiracy theories about Windsor Freeman being an alien, a god, an immortal, a time-traveller, and one that Keynes actually started to believe that Windsor Freeman was the head of a secret organisation that ruled the world from the shadows, called the Shapers. It was one of the theories actually taken without smiling.

The sheer size of this mansion… Keynes wondered how much it was worth. At least several billions of dollars.

Pizzaro halted him as they were leaving the landing site.

“What do you know about the rifts?”

“Much less than you, I bet.”

“I am being serious,” Pizzaro said.

Keynes put his hands into pockets, hiding his nervousness. If the size of the mansion was meant to make Windsor Freeman’s guests uncomfortable, then it succeeded.

Pizzaro slightly leaned toward Keynes, bringing his face closer to Keynes’s ear.

“This matter will not go away because you think that withholding information is smart. We have people who specialize in extracting information. Think carefully about this because the next time I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” There was an edge to his tone, a sharp warning that didn’t fit his smooth appearance.

Keynes tried his hardest to remain motionless. He couldn’t show weakness to those people but he needed Pizzaro off his back.

“Sure.” I will give you what you want but you won’t like it. I guess.

A fifty metres wide white marble stairs led them up to where the largest door Keynes had seen opened for them. On each side of the ten metres-high door were the floor-to-ceiling windows. The entire floor looked like seamless, flawless porcelain. The size of the hall rivalled the cave in Jamaica. A circular window was installed in the ceiling casting a beam of light. There was a stream lazily flowing through the middle of the hall and trees growing from massive pots. This was a show of power and it was doing a damn good job. Keynes felt awe and intimidation at the same time.

They crossed the bridge, a fountain, a shallow pool full of fish, walls crowded with famous paintings, then made a turn. Pizzaro approached a plain wall and pressed his palm against it. Runes flared to life and a doorframe appeared on the wall.

They already have working runes. The runes in the Jamaican base were crude and passive. Active runes were an archaeological curiosity as the runic scripture was incomplete and dangerous to use therefore most runes were banned so people wouldn’t kill themselves.

This made Keynes wonder if that was newly acquired knowledge or another secret withheld from the public.

The wall inside the doorframe vanished and Pizzaro gestured to Keynes to enter. Keynes sighed but he was sure that Freeman wouldn’t seek to kill or harm him. He needed Keynes too badly.

A short corridor led to a stylish, luxury room, much smaller than everything he’d passed on its way here but the design—and splendour—was fit more for a king than the head of a government.

Windsor Freeman waited for Keynes alone by a fireplace. At the first glance, he looked like some wealthy uncle, the one that loved to play golf on Sundays and wear bright clothes.

But Freeman’s smile wouldn’t fool Keynes anymore.

“Keynes,” he said, pointing at a comfortable sofa. “I am glad you have finally arrived. Please, take a seat.” He spoke with incredible authenticity as if it wasn’t a front but who he really was. It could be his Talent for all Keynes knew.

“Mr President,” Pizzaro said before Keynes made a step forward. “I believe Keynes Kid knows something regarding the rifts that is important.” He emphasized the last word.

“Of course he knows, he opened one,” Freeman replied, seemingly carefree, missing what Pizzaro was trying to highlight here. But then, a flicker of understanding crossed his face and he waved Pizzaro away. His aide left without a word of protest.

“Sit down,” Freeman repeated in a light tone. “We have things to discuss.”

Upon their first meeting, Keynes had been mesmerized by this man. He was the strongest person in the world, Level 10. Freeman was so far above everyone else it made him look completely superhuman. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that sixteen-year-old Keynes had found himself fascinated by the President back in the cave. This was no longer the case although Keynes didn’t forget that Windsor Freeman could kill him with a single punch and he needed to respect his monstrous strength.

“I believe you wish me to open a Level 2 rift,” Keynes said without hesitation, projecting more confidence than he currently possessed.

It was obvious that Windsor Freeman didn’t expect such bluntness but he recovered in an instant and confirmed it.

“Not one but two rifts. One of them is very special. It has an exotic rarity. It’s the first one we have ever encountered.”

“Higher-level rifts produce higher rarities?”

“That appears to be the case,” Windsor confirmed. He pointed at an intricate crystal container with black liquid inside. “Would you like to taste our newest invention? It is distilled from a rift plant called a nightflower. It already shows promise in medicine. I assure you, it has a pleasant flavour."

Keynes was tempted to try it. He really was but the task ahead kept a strong leash on his neck and he politely declined. He needed a clear mind and that liquid reminded him about the lesser alcoholic beverage. It didn’t end well for him the next day.

He noticed a painting on the wall that seemed out of place.

“This is Rock of Gibraltar by Anders Anton.” It was very strange to have the painting and live so close to the actual location of the rock.

“Yes,” Windsor nodded, pleased by Keynes’s comment. “It’s the last painting Anton did.”

Paintings, seriously? Is this what you are into?

Many historical tyrants, kings, queens and emperors were collectors but it had never felt right. As if these kinds of people should have been deprived of the sense of art.

“Why this painting?” Keynes decided to try to satiate his curiosity. The Rock of Gibraltar had been a witness to many tremendous battles, it had been the seat of Empress Kana and later her son, Emperor Kanean. Their Talents had sparked many debates in the past, although, Keynes noticed their absence in The Brief History of Talents, which should have covered those two extensively. The most credible sources speculated that Empress Kana had unprecedented access to the Spiritual Interface because of her Talent, while her son could peek into the past. Why weren’t they included in the book was now nagging at Keynes.

The President poured the black liquid into a crystal glass and sipped it, giving no emotions away but he evidently was postponing the answer. Keynes didn’t read too much into this. He needed Keynes, not Keynes’s willingness.

And then the answer came.

“There are wonders this world had produced then the wonders were ‘forgotten’ but some individuals never forget. You, of all people, should understand why remembrance is paramount.”

Maybe before Jamaica, Keynes would’ve agreed with Windsor. But he didn’t let himself get sidetracked. First of all, the President’s answer didn’t make much sense. Unless he meant that the Rock of Gibraltar was a wonder. But Keynes knew nothing about it. Not a single book he’d read in his life had presented it in that light.

“Remembering everything is a terrible burden,” Keynes replied. He wasn’t sure if he should press the issue, on one hand, Windsor was Level 10, the true monster who could easily kill him, on the other one, he really needed Keynes and wasn’t likely going to harm him. Though he knew about this slim advantage, it still filled him with hesitation.

“You must know a lot about history, I presume.”

“I know a good chunk of it, yes.”

Windsor’s eyes brightened and he smiled—genuinely smiled. It was a strange experience, and a very unsettling one.

“At least, I will have someone to talk to. Standing at the top can be a lonely endeavour. You won’t go anywhere for a very long time so I guess we can have chats like this.”

Keynes shivered because his fears materialized with these words. Windsor wasn’t going to let him go. But, on the other hand, Windsor’s acknowledgement took away some of the weight Keynes had been carrying. He no longer felt bad about his plan. This man didn’t give him a choice.

Either not seeing Keynes’s internal revulsion or not caring enough to react to it, Windsor continued.

“The history of humankind has been rewritten many times. The World Government is not the first organisation to rule the entire world. We’re first to reach off-worlds though. Something he couldn’t do.”

He?

Windsor downed the rest of the black liquid and poured another glass. He turned away from Keynes and stared at the painting.

Keynes’s curiosity burned now but he was aware of the possible trap Windsor was laying before him. Keynes wasn’t that stupid.

But the truth of the world? It was truly enticing. He couldn’t exclude a foul play here. Maybe there wasn’t any secret and Windsor was baiting him into smooth submission. If that was the case, then the President was going to be sorely disappointed.

“Who is he?”

Windsor half-turned his head to Keynes.

“Talents are the best and the worst thing we have. Some people are blessed with amazing Talents that offer them a chance to change the world for the better, while most receive mediocre ones, which can barely sustain their lives. And then, there are individuals, the rarest kind of individuals, who aren’t just blessed with powerful Talents. No. Their Talents are so broken that they turn them into gods, literally.” He didn’t tell who ‘he’ was but his answer gave Keynes a broad idea of what he was implying. ‘He’ must be someone with such Talent.

But Broken Talents are a myth. A legend like Queen Arturia of Carme or the Saint Kong, the King of Pirates.

With current technology, hiding things like— and then he realized that the Foxgl—Saels had a secret that even the government seemed unaware of.

“Broken Talents exist?”

Windsor stared at Keynes for an uncomfortably long time before he answered his question.

“You do understand we aren’t the bad ones here, don’t you?”

It felt as if Keynes was slapped in the face. How could he say something like this after everything they’d done to him?

Windsor saw it.

“We couldn’t risk him finding you. We had to get to you first. The Old Blood isn’t the only enemy we have in this world. They are the ones who rewrote history and keep ancient secrets. Not the current generations, no, most of them know next to nothing.

“And there is at least one person with a Broken Talent alive today. We cannot do anything about him but he seems content hiding in the shadows. Still, we cannot risk exposing you to him.”

Such a handy lie. First, there is no scientific confirmation that Broken Talents are a thing. Second, a mysterious someone who could pose a danger to me and the government is my only chance at keeping me safe. Lame.

Keynes had a few probing questions but he knew that most of them wouldn’t be answered. Worse, there were many unfinished threads here. Something, he suspected, Windsor had done on purpose. He was throwing him a carrot.

“I don’t understand any of this.”

Windsor frowned.

“Shouldn’t you be a genius?”

“No. My memory doesn’t work like this. I’m just above average as far as IQ tests go.”

Windsor nodded.

“We will return to this conversation after you open the first rift.”

***

Windsor waited for Pullman to return after Keynes Kid had gone to his room. They were leaving the first thing in the morning for the Level 2 rift.

“Mr President,” Pullman said as he entered the room. “You called.”

“Take a seat,” Windsor said, wishing that the night whisky—as he called it—had an effect on him. But the Level 1 alcohol was too weak. The low levels didn’t understand many strange struggles the high levels faced. Windsor rarely slept. A couple of hours each week. Drugs and alcohol no longer worked on him. They stopped working around Level 5. Though there were other issues, alien to the low levels, like spiritual diseases. A Level 10 body was physically resistant to genetic failures although it still had aged. Something Vitality seemed to fix.

He sat down on the opposite chair.

“Marg will need to stay with Nitisha for another three months. The appearance of Vitality messed up their results and they are starting from scratch.”

“I can wait, Mr President.”

“I know. I appreciate it. Once she’s done with Marg. You’ll get your chance,” Windsor said, a little distantly. This wasn’t as important to him as other matters. The conversation with Keynes Kid unearthed old wounds and even older memories. “We are going to open the exotic rift tomorrow.”

Pullman perked up.

“Tomorrow? We don’t have enough trusted troops to secure the location. And there is the matter of what he’s hiding from us.”

“We don’t have any truth-seeking Talents with us and I think, they won’t be necessary.”

Pullman didn’t look convinced. The boy withholding important information about the rifts was expected. Wax hadn’t been the most subtle man and Keynes Kid had issues with the government now. A mistake on their part but one they could easily rectify. Windsor didn’t bother himself with that.

“I’ve already sown the seeds. The boy has a curious nature. Our information on him says he likes history and mysteries. I will keep feeding him bits of the true history. He won't be able to resist.”

Pullman’s eyes widened. He, among very few, knew the truth. Windsor valued him and Marg Moonbane. Both their Talents had been integral in his rise. They stood by his side since their unlocking ceremonies.

“Mr President…”

“It is the only way I can sway him to our side after Wax Earl’s failure. Columbus Curt knows about his existence now. He won’t risk a direct confrontation but having Keynes Kid grow in strength at the same time will eventually create a problem. If he is on our side and understands our point of view, we’ll have one issue less to worry about.”

“I understand the logic behind it but … this knowledge. It will only create more questions. Isn’t there a reason why the Old Blood has kept it from the world?”

“The Old Blood has hidden the truth for a different reason than you think. They are greedy, unable to unite and self-consuming parasites on the face of our world,” Windsor vented his frustration a little then added in a calmer voice. “But you are right. The truth must remain hidden from the public but the boy knowing a shred of it won’t make much harm to anyone. Now. Let’s discuss tomorrow’s rift opening.”