01-29-2018, 09:54 AM
"You mean you didn't include the secret dungeon in your tour? How remiss."
This time she did roll her eyes, the veil obscuring her caustic nature abandoned now. If she had not offended him yet she doubted a little sharp irreverence was going to do the job, not with the sarcasm dripping from his own tongue. "A secret shared is a sin shared too. I can hardly walk out the door now that I know about this, can I."
"Don't mistake me for a politician; I am not, I don't care for it. But Avalon is, and she will discover proof of the lie sooner or later. You will be seen with one hand pandering to idealistic proposals, while the other hastens to the task of war before an accord can be met. What a fine point for diplomacy and the relationship between our nations that will make. But as you remind me, the game is far older than I am, as are you. I'm sure you know what you're doing."
She spoke drily, but there was a truth there too. She didn't approve deceit; preferred bluntness to farcical manoeuvrings. Did he even intend to truly consider Avalon's proposal, or was it simple placation? His position seemed clear; he had already decided that he would concede, and what he would not. Why waste her time? But that was his affair.
Natalie watched the holo silently; could feel the impatience begin to creep upon her as he belaboured his point. Nothing new flashed from those images. He even chose to remind her of the hubris that pulled a shining monument from the bones of the earth. The magnanimous parent was beginning to wear against her, and those patient little nudges towards his own ends made her feel heinously belligerent. She agreed to his proposal. And he had offered an answer to her question, even if she did not like to hear it. Surely it was enough.
Instead she found herself drawn back into the argument. She shook her head. "They are still men. Not guns, nor bombs or missiles, and not commodities to be bought and sold and traded. Or conditioned. No threat, real or imagined or future, negates that right."
Her voice was sharpening with the necessity of repeating things she thought she'd already made clear, but now she chose not to dull the blade. The first hint of the anger brewing beneath her cool demeanour began to burst bullets in her words. "A good man? What does it even matter to you? If it were good men you wanted, perhaps your methods of acquiring them would be less clandestine, and perhaps I would be sure he had actually been given a choice in this."
She didn't ask the question; couldn't quite bring herself to hear the truth or lie offered, or know which would be worse. But the pierce of her gaze suggested she did not give him the benefit of the doubt. "You've said friend twice now, but the truth is I barely know him. He was assigned to protect me in Africa. Saved my life more than once. And yes, I believe he is a good man."
Something in the word guardian finally stilled her. It was another honey-tongued notion, but one that reverberated like an old echo. She didn't dispute the need for channelers in military positions; he didn't need to sugar-coat it for her. She wasn't her mother, nor had her highly moral ideals. If the men were willing, the idea did not fill her with revulsion or horror. She had suggested herself that channelers were the only ones who could stop their own kind. Surely he didn't think he must convince her of that.
Her tone levelled. She had remained utterly still the entirety of this conversation, but shifted now to place her elbows on his desk. Her forearms laid flat, her fingers laced. "Guardian. If that is what it truly is you seek, why the need for secrecy? Good men don't hide when there is a need for them. They answer the call. You wouldn't need to stand alone. Men fight harder when they are given the choice. I don't oppose that."
She slipped back, hands back in her lap. "This power is a gift that comes with responsibilities. I don't refute that either. I'm here aren't I?"
She could have refused the summons, but she didn't; despite all the reasons she might have to remain distant. The Northbrooks offered her up like a tribute, but there was no gun at her spine urging each step onward. Some part of her accepted the path, even as she made it a difficult one. "Men have always killed other men. They always will, whether it's with guns or knives or the power. But for every renegade with the ability to level buildings, there is someone struggling to harness that same gift just to survive. It isn't only a weapon, after all. Protection is your contingency, not your foundation. You need more than an army."
This time she did roll her eyes, the veil obscuring her caustic nature abandoned now. If she had not offended him yet she doubted a little sharp irreverence was going to do the job, not with the sarcasm dripping from his own tongue. "A secret shared is a sin shared too. I can hardly walk out the door now that I know about this, can I."
"Don't mistake me for a politician; I am not, I don't care for it. But Avalon is, and she will discover proof of the lie sooner or later. You will be seen with one hand pandering to idealistic proposals, while the other hastens to the task of war before an accord can be met. What a fine point for diplomacy and the relationship between our nations that will make. But as you remind me, the game is far older than I am, as are you. I'm sure you know what you're doing."
She spoke drily, but there was a truth there too. She didn't approve deceit; preferred bluntness to farcical manoeuvrings. Did he even intend to truly consider Avalon's proposal, or was it simple placation? His position seemed clear; he had already decided that he would concede, and what he would not. Why waste her time? But that was his affair.
Natalie watched the holo silently; could feel the impatience begin to creep upon her as he belaboured his point. Nothing new flashed from those images. He even chose to remind her of the hubris that pulled a shining monument from the bones of the earth. The magnanimous parent was beginning to wear against her, and those patient little nudges towards his own ends made her feel heinously belligerent. She agreed to his proposal. And he had offered an answer to her question, even if she did not like to hear it. Surely it was enough.
Instead she found herself drawn back into the argument. She shook her head. "They are still men. Not guns, nor bombs or missiles, and not commodities to be bought and sold and traded. Or conditioned. No threat, real or imagined or future, negates that right."
Her voice was sharpening with the necessity of repeating things she thought she'd already made clear, but now she chose not to dull the blade. The first hint of the anger brewing beneath her cool demeanour began to burst bullets in her words. "A good man? What does it even matter to you? If it were good men you wanted, perhaps your methods of acquiring them would be less clandestine, and perhaps I would be sure he had actually been given a choice in this."
She didn't ask the question; couldn't quite bring herself to hear the truth or lie offered, or know which would be worse. But the pierce of her gaze suggested she did not give him the benefit of the doubt. "You've said friend twice now, but the truth is I barely know him. He was assigned to protect me in Africa. Saved my life more than once. And yes, I believe he is a good man."
Something in the word guardian finally stilled her. It was another honey-tongued notion, but one that reverberated like an old echo. She didn't dispute the need for channelers in military positions; he didn't need to sugar-coat it for her. She wasn't her mother, nor had her highly moral ideals. If the men were willing, the idea did not fill her with revulsion or horror. She had suggested herself that channelers were the only ones who could stop their own kind. Surely he didn't think he must convince her of that.
Her tone levelled. She had remained utterly still the entirety of this conversation, but shifted now to place her elbows on his desk. Her forearms laid flat, her fingers laced. "Guardian. If that is what it truly is you seek, why the need for secrecy? Good men don't hide when there is a need for them. They answer the call. You wouldn't need to stand alone. Men fight harder when they are given the choice. I don't oppose that."
She slipped back, hands back in her lap. "This power is a gift that comes with responsibilities. I don't refute that either. I'm here aren't I?"
She could have refused the summons, but she didn't; despite all the reasons she might have to remain distant. The Northbrooks offered her up like a tribute, but there was no gun at her spine urging each step onward. Some part of her accepted the path, even as she made it a difficult one. "Men have always killed other men. They always will, whether it's with guns or knives or the power. But for every renegade with the ability to level buildings, there is someone struggling to harness that same gift just to survive. It isn't only a weapon, after all. Protection is your contingency, not your foundation. You need more than an army."