Sitting on that bench, staring at the sea, the two men talked for a long time. Halden told Rees everything that had happened to him in the last few months. The new source of thilium, Lucy’s strange message from beyond the grave, his meeting with the visor, and how he had found his daughter’s confession hidden in the Regency.

Rees had blanched at the mention of the Regency.

“You could have died!”

Halden nodded. “It was a close call. But the truth is, we could die anywhere, at any time. We never know what will happen in the next few seconds. I always knew this, of course—we all do, to some extent. That experience only turned it into a more stinging reality.” He turned his gaze away from the waves to look at the younger man. “How much time do we have left in this life, Rees? Do you know? I don’t. But whatever time I have left, I do not wish to waste. Certainly not serving these cruel masters who stole my precious daughter from me.”

“But what could we possibly do against them?”

“Tell me what you remember of that day, and those that followed. When did you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lucy had been murdered?”

Rees shuddered as he looked away, shifting in his seat.

“The investigation. It was such a sham. They ruled the crash an accident, albeit a freakish one. On the last day, a government official came to me, to give me his condolences. But, before leaving, he said something to me. I’ll never forget those cold, cutting words. They are etched deep into my heart and my soul.” He fell quiet for a moment, then took a deep breath before continuing. “He told me: ‘Mistakes have a cost, Dr. Cole. We trust you will not make another one.’ You should have seen his face, Halden! The man was smiling. I would have ripped that smile off his face if I’d had the guts.”

“And you’d be rotting in a cell now, if not dead.” Halden’s eyes went back to the sea. “That’s how they control you. With guilt. They made it sound like it all was your fault—”

“But it was!”

“Does a father kill his son if he reveals a secret? Does a teacher slit his student’s throat if he teaches others the ancient arts of his ways? Only a monster would do such a thing. And then to blame the victim for their horrendous act? Can’t you see who these people are?”

“Without them, we would be nothing. Shamed and hunted—”

Halden laughed. “By who? It’s the government’s own doing that turned scientists into pariahs of society. Don’t let them fool you into thinking you have no worth outside of the IAS. There is light beyond the shadow they cast.” He stood. “We should go. If you are gone too long, they could start asking questions.” The younger man stood as well, and they walked back to the glider together. “Before we part, do you remember the name of that official who came to you?”

“What does it matter?”

“I need to know how far up this goes and who made that call.”

Rees stared at him. “That is madness! He would never tell you anything.”

“Let me worry about that, young man. Now, do you have the name?”

The other grunted as he lifted his arm and tapped on his wristpad. “I still must have it on here. There it is. Nahl Bergdahn.”

Halden wrote it down. “One last thing. Who were you talking to when you let it slip about Lucy?”

Rees shook his head. “Just low-level employees, it makes no difference. They would have told someone above them.”

“Who?”

“This is ridiculous, Halden! Can’t you see? It’s not about one person finding out. It set off a chain reaction. One person telling another telling another telling—”

“I get it. Just tell me who would have been at the top of that pyramid.”

“I don’t know!”

“You have to know who the person you spoke to would have gone to? And perhaps the one above them, if not more?”

Rees said nothing as they walked the last feet to the glider. He turned to look at the man who would have been his stepfather, with an expression filled with pain and shame.

“You know the answer to that as much as I do, Halden.” His voice became a whisper. “It would have had to go through Marthus.”