"Such a curious thing, that you didn't," the man murmurs in reply. No further creaks of shifting weight. No motion. No clarity on what his intentions are - just the man holding place in the corner of Ralston's vision, like a vicious hallucination.

(Though it does beg the question: why did he lie, and then why did he share the more complete picture? Was it mistrust of Byerly, poorly-executed? Or pride at war with greed, the desire to hoard defeated with the desire to gloat?

(Byerly wonders if he hates this man. He might. Humorless save for when he finds some cracking cruel joy, selfish and self-interested. No love for country, for people, for honor or virtue. Blood-stained without regret.)

"Did you know," he says, abruptly, "that some doctors back home have achieved some truly startling things. Undoing procedures that many thought permanent."