“That’s wonderful news, Mr. Trejo.” Jared’s smile lit his face along with his tone. “Keep to that pace and it will be an early Christmas without doubt. No, leave the asphalt in the western storehouses for now. Just focus on the roadway substructures. There’s more to . . . yes, exactly. We’ll cover it in the weekly call tomorrow. Alright. Keep as you are. No, thank you, Mr. Trejo.” He disconnected the call with a satisfied sigh, then turned to review the large table set up in the center of the room, the momentary altar of his dreams.

The table was an act of simplicity, as he hoped its contents would be as well, when all was completed. Light shone from complex projectors in all four corners, printing the current shape of the world on the air in tiny strings of red and yellow and blue. “Strip down, single layer view.” He spoke and was obeyed, the image reducing to the first story, by default. “Substructure layer three, update scans to real-time progress and enhance. Narrow to sector one, area nine. Remove ancillary vehicles.” He was left with some of the underpinnings of a road structure, but he was thoroughly pleased with how everything was taking shape. He grinned as he circled the table, moving to take in the image from every angle. “What do you think, Christopher? Applying the processes Trejo used to shorten construction times, speaking strictly about this piece of the project, how long to substructure completion?”

Christopher stood off to one side, unobtrusive as usual, his eyes fixed on the progress table, his hands clasped in front of him. The bright world outside the windows picked out each pinstripe of the dark blue suit he was wearing and every strand of his brown hair. His eyes were covered by a pair of thin-rimmed sunglasses, the lenses a dark gradation of color that mostly obscured the focused look behind them. “Taking current resources into account, along with the oncoming winter, best estimates of substructure completion show mid-November to early December, depending on snowfall.”

Jared’s smile fell, since he had wanted to move faster than that. “Mid-November is too late. I want everything with the substructures and roadways completed before the snows set in, that way supplies can be moved in the spring just as fast as . . .” he trailed off, his eyes darting around the board as he tried to imagine ways of organizing things more efficiently to move the project along. It needs to move quickly. He thought urgently, gripping the sides of the table as if sheer force of will could command a means into existence. As soon as the snows clear, if we even get any in the late winter, the way has to be cleared so that everything else . . .

“Sir?” Christopher said quietly, waiting for Jared to turn slightly to give him permission to speak. “If the emphasis were primarily on the Warehouse protocol, rather than the roads, then construction could continue unhindered through the winter. I recall that you dismissed the idea previously, but it does remain the only option, if your goal is to have levels completed up to and including roadways by the end of the winter.”

I don’t want to use the Warehouse protocol. Jared grumbled to himself without answering. It sent the wrong message. It encouraged the wrong kind of mindset. He needed a silent winter, a quiet build-up of speculation, before . . .

He sighed deeply and ran one hand through the hair along the side of his head. “Bring up the Warehouse Protocol specs. I need materials lists, contractor specs and time to completion.”

“Priority level?” Christopher said as the display began changing to show a very different kind of image.

“The Warehouse would be first. Everything else will have to be secondary until it’s complete.” He straightened as he watched the image take shape slowly, sighing because it wasn’t what he had wanted, but it was the only logical way to proceed. It has to be primary. Everything else has to be secondary. He could hear the bitterness in his own thoughts as his own words echoed in his mind, but he brushed past it. Bitterness wasn’t useful. Bitterness would not move his world forward. At best, it was a fuel to be consumed as he left behind the site of its origin. At worst, it was a quagmire that would trap him in place until it choked the life from him. Better the burn than the bog.

He tightened his jaw and then consciously relaxed it, schooling his features not to give too many outward signs of inward turmoil. That would lead to people picking him apart, and that was something he could not, would not, abide. Being picked apart was not productive. It was not useful. It furthered nothing but people’s own insecurities. His objectives, his ambition, would not tolerate it.

Ambition. Society’s favorite four-letter-word that he had accepted almost before anything else about himself. His entire life, people had been talking about the boy who had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Jared preferred to think of it as coming into the world with an extra-sharp machete in his hand, ready to hack through whatever stood in his way to get things done.

At the moment, that included the Warehouse Protocol.

The numbers were moving above the display, timelines displayed in their own section of the table to show how implementation of the Protocol, or the lack thereof, would affect the timeline of the project’s completion. “I’ll consider it. I’m not going to make a decision while I’m this angry about it.” Self-control. Above anything else, he had to hold onto that. If he didn’t, he always regretted it later. More truths of his own identity he had long since accepted.

Ambition, self-control, focus, resourcefulness, even . . . yes, he had to accept it and own it for it to be useful . . . even ruthlessness. All attributes that he had long since accepted, and for which he would make no excuses, no apologies. How many more were still waiting for his acknowledgment?

“Go back to the current status of all teams and display full timelines. I want to focus on the groundworks and the layout of the . . .”

“Sir,” Christopher interjected, which was incredibly strange for him. He never interrupted anything or anyone unless there was a real need. “You should be aware that Ms. Bowen has reported in. She and Mr. Conrad are roughly five minutes out.”

“What? Already?” Jared looked up at a clock on the side of the room and swore, since he had thought he would have more time. He just sighed and gestured the hologram away, the four projectors receding along the corners of the table as he moved to the window. “He must have been more eager to get out of there than she thought.”

“No, Sir. The weather conditions were just more favorable than anticipated on their way here. Mr. Conrad was actually four minutes late to the scheduled rendezvous. I apologize, I should have informed you when their ETA changed.” Christopher inclined his head slightly, lowering his eyes as he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You don’t need to apologize for something like that, Christopher. It was my own fault for not accurately setting the priority.” Jared didn’t turn around as he spoke, instead fixing his eyes on the northern horizon at the edge of the massive windows. He could see the helicopter coming in low, headed straight for his building, or at least what there was of it. Calling it a building yet would have been slightly aggrandizing. “Please wait in one of the rooms, Christopher. When I’m prepared for him to meet you, we’ll call for you.”

“Of course, Sir.” Christopher nodded and turned immediately to step through the nearest door, clicking it shut behind him quietly and making no sound whatsoever after he had been temporarily dismissed.

Who are you, Mr. Conrad? Jared mused as he stood by the wall of glass, rising from his feet all the way to the ceiling in thick panes, extending the entire distance between the walls on either side of him. The grey afternoon was open beneath an overcast sky, almost nothing visible in any direction from where Jared was standing. Scrub grass and low bushes carpeted the landscape in shades of grey and yellow and pale green, a few stray evergreens poking out of the hard soil to stand alone against the sky. Far to the west, a hint of mountains marched along the horizon, a boundary of the world too weak and insubstantial to hold back what was to come.

The helicopter inched closer as the moments ticked on, and Jared smiled as it began to slow its approach. The pad where it would land was directly above the unit in which Jared was standing, and the helicopter passed within just a few feet of the roof, offering Jared his first look at the man Kit had recommended so highly.

Henry was looking back, but Jared knew he would see nothing of the interior from the helicopter. The glass was coated to make it nearly impossible for anyone outside the building to see anything more than a blur of light or shadows through the pane. Jared hoped that Henry would see more than that once he was inside. He had to, in order to do the job he was being brought in to do.

This is necessary. Jared reminded himself as he turned away from the glass. He had to remind himself, or he would begin to deny it. Denial would lead to forgetting. Forgetting would lead to mistakes. Mistakes could not be allowed. If he’s the right one for the job, then this is necessary. Don’t forget that. Don’t doubt that. You need this. That was the hardest admission of all, but it was one that he forced himself to make.

He didn’t have to. He didn’t have to admit anything. He could do as he pleased. The monetary machete he’d been born with guaranteed that. He could have set his mind to accomplish anything in the world, moved to dominate any industry on the planet, even made an attempt at politics, and he’d have had a decently high chance of success. But ambition was a tricky thing. Ambition was focused. Specific. And for the specifics of his focus, he needed someone like Henry Conrad.

Jared knew what the space had to look like as Kit opened the door for Henry. The walls were plain white and there was almost no furniture near the door besides a small table with papers scattered on it. As the open space pushed toward the windows, it passed a kitchen with almost nothing on its counters to show that anyone lived there. The only sign of occupation was the white table with its projectors, a few chairs right up near the wall-to-wall window, and a plain desk strewn with papers and technology. Jared was mostly a silhouette against the clear day outside, but Henry still saw him as soon as he set foot in the unit. Good. Jared began assessing the man as soon as he was in sight. Observant without being distracted. Confident enough to make eye contact. I wonder how much Kit told him. Almost certainly not enough.

Jared met Henry halfway, near the empty counters of the kitchen in the center of the unit. “Mr. Conrad. I’m very glad to meet you.”

There was no confusion on Henry’s face as he took Jared’s hand, only caution, and a hefty dose of suspicion. “Mr. Overton. You’re taller in person than you look on news reports.”

Politician-level deflection by means of stating the obvious. Interesting. Not something I would have guessed as your first tactic. Though if you’re not glad to meet me, I can’t say that I’m surprised. “Hopefully you’ll find a lot of differences between my self in person and my self according to the news.” He gestured back toward the windows to the comfortable chairs arranged around a low central table.

“I hope so.” Henry agreed, still cautious as he went to take his seat. Jared caught him looking questioningly over at Kit a few times as he sat down, as if accusing her of getting him into something he hadn’t been prepared for. “If I had known I was meeting the fourth-wealthiest person in the world today, I would’ve worn a better suit.”

“Time spent obsessing in front of a mirror is generally time wasted.” Jared answered with a smile as he sat down across the table from Henry, though it didn’t have much of an impact on his new acquaintance or the general tension of the room. You can make a joke but can’t take one. I see how it is.

Kit was the only one who returned his smile as she sat in a chair between the two of them on the long side of the low table. “That opinion explains why you typically need me or Christopher to tell you when your hair looks like a bird is trying to make a nest in it.”

Jared’s look over at Kit was sharp, but he didn’t stop smiling. “Fair point. You do keep me on track in that respect.” He held her eyes for another moment before he looked away. Henry had clearly watched every detail of the exchange closely. Jared had to wonder how long it would take the man to start gathering pieces of observations enough to tell himself a story that Jared wasn’t fond of having told. “Can I get you anything? I don’t have any alcohol in the unit, I’m afraid, but we do have water, coffee . . .”

“No, thank you. The helicopter was stocked with snacks, and I’m fairly sure they’re still spinning in my stomach. I’ll give them a little time to settle down.” Henry obviously hadn’t enjoyed the ride, but Jared couldn’t fault the man for that. He’d probably never been up in one before.

Jared nodded, and made no move to get anything for himself. He knew Kit would make herself at home if she were so inclined. “If she had told you, where you were going, who you were meeting, would you still have come?” He needed to understand this man sitting in front of him. That understanding had to be comprehensive, not just in context of him or Kit.

“No. Probably not.”

Well, that was faster than Jared had expected. No dissembling, no qualification, no hesitation. Just a straight answer. Had he gotten so unaccustomed to getting those from people that he was capable of being surprised by it that easily? “Why not?”

Henry did pause at that question, but he didn’t look away. Good. He thinks before he speaks. It was a trait Jared had found surprisingly rare in the world the longer he spent in it. “Not to be too blunt about it, but because you’re a pretty good embodiment of everything that I’ve ever found to be wrong with the world.”

He said it so matter-of-factly and so simply that Jared had to smile, which obviously wasn’t the reaction Henry had been expecting. “How so?” Maybe Kit was right. Maybe.  

Henry looked him over quizzically for the moment, obviously having expected something a little more defensive from the ridiculously wealthy individual, but when he looked at Kit and saw her halfway smiling as well, he continued. “Well, I base that opinion on what I know about you. I know you were born rich and got a whole lot richer based on how rich you were to begin with, sent most of your company’s factories overseas to maximize profits, brought a few of them back when you got so much crap for it that you couldn’t do nothing any longer, then there was the scandal a few years ago with you inheriting and shadily disposing of everything that Guintaro had . . .” he seemed momentarily confused into silence by Jared’s smile at that mention.

I suppose there normally would be only two reasons to smile at the mention of a scandal. Jared thought to himself. Either it wasn’t true and I’m amused by the rumor, which makes me a fairly sick bastard, or it’s true and I hold it to be a fond memory. Which would make me even worse.

“And then there’s this city.” Henry continued, when Jared didn’t stop him. “This city, and all of the same species it belongs to out in the Middle East, playgrounds that are built for the super-rich, they all make me, and a lot of people, pretty sick. The rich don’t need city-sized palaces to congratulate each other in. But I’m sure a project on this scale is going to take your already-enormous fortune and make it even more enormous. So if that’s all you care about, congratulations, you’re succeeding. If there’s something else you care about, I clearly don’t know you well enough to see it.”

“No, you don’t.” Jared said with the same smile on his face, and he had to laugh when Henry was finished pronouncing judgment on him. “You know, it’s been a long time since I actually had most of that shoved in my face directly instead of just reading about it in a tabloid. I always find the live version much more thrilling. It has a fire to it that journalism just can’t quite capture.”

Even Kit chuckled at that response, and Jared could see the mingled disgust and shock on Henry’s face as the two of them laughed at his judgment. “Is all that a joke to you? You seriously think it’s funny that you’ve got all of this . . .”

“Your opinion of me is only funny in context, Mr. Conrad. I don’t mean to belittle it. You just haven’t heard the punchline of your own joke yet.” Jared smiled again and shared a look with Kit. He could see the ‘told you so’ written plainly on her face, and he just gave her a reluctant nod. Later on, he knew she would make him pay for ever doubting her judgment, but he supposed he deserved that.

But that was later. For the time being, he’d seen enough of Mr. Conrad to get a vague idea of the kind of man he was dealing with, and Kit was right. So far, he was definitely the kind of man Jared needed. “As you already know, there is a job I am considering hiring you for, based on Kit’s recommendation. The nature of the job is such that I need to know a little more about you before I can describe it to you. No matter what happens, though, I’ll make the day worth your while. Time is precious, even if it isn’t precisely money.”

If Henry had come in with any confidence at all, it had been tossed out the floor-to-ceiling windows by the most recent exchange and replaced with confusion, but he shrugged and attempted to regain the composure he’d had before being asked his opinion. “That’s what I’m here for. I told Kit I’d give her the day. You’ve got at least half of it left, and besides, your helicopter is kind of my ride home. So, captive audience here, at your disposal.”

No illusions whatsoever. Jared thought to himself as he met the man’s renewed stare. No pretense, no facade, no minced words. Maybe I really had forgotten that such people exist.

He pushed himself up from his chair and went over to the blank white table nearby, tapping it once to reactivate the projectors on it. “What do you need to live, Mr. Conrad?” Jared moved to the far side of the table from Henry so he could stand with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for a response. “If someone were to drop you in the middle of a strange city somewhere in this country with absolutely nothing but the clothes you were wearing, no friends, no prospects, no bank account, and no way of returning where you came from, what would you need, in that town, to rebuild a life for yourself?”

Henry wasn’t sure at first whether to stay or follow, but he got up before he answered, joining Jared on his own end of the table. Good. Not one to be intimidated or sit by and spectate.

“Well, a little more context to the question would be the first thing I would need.” Henry said with a thoroughly unamused laugh. “But, since it doesn’t look like I’m going to get that, sure, I’ll play with hypotheticals.”

“We’ll be doing a lot of playing with hypotheticals.” Jared interjected. “If you’re right for the job.”

“Oh goodie.” Henry sighed, and put his hands in his pockets as he looked over the blank table and the holographic projectors, which had put up the word Needs in mid-air as if they were some kind of high-tech chalkboard. “Well, it’s complicated, but I’ll play. Let’s start with the basics, Food, water, shelter.”

“Survival first, fair enough.” Jared agreed as the necessary elements inscribed themselves above the table in various places, like a puzzle that Henry hadn’t been aware he was about to try and solve. “What else?”

Henry bristled under the twenty questions and the know-it-all attitude, but Jared was accustomed to getting that response from people. People always hated a know-it-all. Right up until the moment they learned that the know-it-all really did actually know quite a lot.

“Well, if I can’t leave the place, I’d need a lot of other things to make a life. Somewhere to stay until I got back on my feet. Temporary housing.” He said clearly, and waited for it to show up on the screen somewhere, to see where the puzzle was leading. “I’d need a job, some means to start making myself some money and supporting myself, support while I get there, basic community services, health care, medicine, security, some kind of assurance that I’m living in a place where I have rights and where I can protect myself from crime or seek prosecution if I can’t. Freedom to make my own decisions and take a free breath.” Everything he said went up on the board in a variety of places, and Jared could see the look on Henry’s face as he realized he wasn’t being asked a hypothetical, his logic was being tested.

Took you longer than I would have liked, but you’re under pressure. I can let that slide.

“Transportation.” He said as his eyes scanned around the mid-air display, and he started circling around to the broad ends of the table to get a look at things from multiple angles, just to make sure he was getting everything. “Some kind of means of getting where I need to go. Basic sanitation, a place to buy or trade for the things I need on a day to day basis, leisure activities, a way to give back to those who supported me in the first place . . .” He pondered over one blank space for a while, then actually seemed happy when he was correct. “Communications, some way of staying in touch with the people I need to talk to, maintain a link with the world I hypothetically got plucked out of, even if I don’t hypothetically have a means of getting home.” He glared over at Jared, but Jared just smiled back.

Henry looked at the entire diagram, and stepped back a little to look at the structure of it, then took a long look at Jared before he filled in some of the final pieces. “Friends, family, a sense of community, I’m guessing?”

He saw some of those pieces fit themselves into the overall framework, but there was a large gap at the top of the pyramid that he had formed left blank, which he eventually worked out. “A purpose? If you’re going to live somewhere, you need a reason to live at all. Something that motivates you to do anything beyond just surviving.”

The final major piece at the top of the pyramid filled itself in, and Jared just nodded. It had taken some prompting, but he had a fairly good overview of the many pieces needed in a person’s life. Jared tapped a hand on the table and a few other smaller pieces came in to supplement the ones he had placed in, which hadn’t occurred to him and didn’t need to. Places to practice religion, if applicable, opportunities for education, opportunities for work advancement, a judiciary system to appeal to for wrongdoing, areas for outdoor recreational activities, local government, child care centers, the list went on and on in a dizzying mountain of tiny needs within a community.

“So it’s complicated.” Jared echoed as he moved to stand on the same broad side of the table as Henry, hands still clasped behind his back as he looked over the entire diagram with him. “And that’s just dealing with a single individual. When you expand to a family, things change a little.” The diagram got bigger in front of them by a wedge, as new services were included. “And then if you start looking at the needs of entire communities of individuals, things get even more complicated,” the pyramid changed again, the text of each element shrinking in size as the entire structure grew, “then you throw small businesses in there, corporations, systems of interactions with other cities, other countries . . .” the text was so small almost nothing was legible. Only purpose remained, monolithic at the top of the diagram no matter what else was added below it. “And it just turns into a damn nightmare. But let’s keep it at the level of a city for now.” Jared said as the diagram in front of them shrank again to the level of the city, though it was still incredibly difficult to read anything.

Henry was still pacing to get a look at all the different elements in the graphic, but he was also looking out the windows at the leveled ground for miles in every direction. “So you’re thinking about the needs of this city of yours all the way from the ground up. Makes sense. If you’re gonna build the whole damn thing in one shot, it makes sense to try and encompass as much as you can.”

“Not the city.” Jared corrected quickly as Henry looked over the collection of needs. “These considerations are for the people who will inhabit the city. Might seem like just a matter of semantics, but . . .”

“But you think of needs differently when you make sure to remember you’re talking about people. I get it.” Henry interrupted without looking up at Jared, reaching into the projection to see if he could actually manipulate the elements, which he found he could, and he rearranged a few of them in a way that apparently made more sense to his mind.

Jared had to smile as Henry began tinkering around with some of the elements of the graphic. No fear, no hesitation, and no compunctions about interrupting me, but otherwise fairly respectful. You’re an interesting batch of contradictions, Mr. Conrad.

Kit got up to walk across the floor behind Henry toward the refrigerator, grabbing herself a bottle of water and a second for Jared without asking, which she handed over on her way back across the space, her heels clicking along the tiled floor. “Enough with the kid gloves, Jared. Give him the problem. He doesn’t need anything else.”

Jared didn’t appreciate her interrupting his process, but he knew she was right. That had always been one of the most infuriating and the most endearing things about Kit to begin with. She had a tendency to be right at exactly the moment when he had gone the most wrong. “Well enough.” He stepped up a little closer to the table, and wiped out the current display with a gesture. “Display relevant economic statistics as of most recent update, static values. Round all values for simplified consideration, erring on the conservative side.”

Jared watched Henry’s face as numbers began to take shape in mid-air between them. They were numbers Jared knew by heart, most of them representative of problems he was unwilling to tolerate in his world. Three hundred thirty million citizens of the United States. Seventeen and a half trillion dollars in personal debt across the entire population. Roughly fifty-five thousand dollars debt per citizen on average. Henry’s face settled from confusion into sadness. Jared could understand the expression. It was the look of a man who lived in a constant state of awareness when it came to the numbers in front of them. He knew the problems as well as anyone. He engaged with them on a daily basis.

The problems continued. Over fifteen million people unemployed . . . half a million people homeless, on average . . . forty-four million living in poverty . . . one percent of the population controlling forty percent of the wealth . . . “I know all of these.” Henry finally interjected as he stared through the hologram at Jared. “Is this supposed to be some kind of education? Because this is not new shit. This is the way shit has been for a while.”

“This is not shit.” Jared said neutrally, in the same unperturbed voice he’d had to cultivate across a lifetime of confrontation. Nothing was accomplished when he engaged with people who were trying to get a rise out of him. He’d had to learn how to not just roll with the punches, but make it look as though he didn’t feel them at all. “This is our country. Cities have particular needs, individuals have certain needs, and there are a multitude of things about the current state of affairs which I think you and I both agree are less than ideal.”

“Do we?” Henry asked without backing away. “Agree? Somehow I doubt you and I see eye to eye about most of this.”

“Henry.” Kit said from nearby, breaking their concentration as both men looked over at her, leaning back against one of the chairs and shaking her head. “Benefit of the doubt, remember?”

“I promised the benefit of the doubt before I knew I was going to be talking to the problem.” Henry didn’t sound angry, exactly, but he was still clearly off balance and confused.

I could ask for someone with a little more patience than this. Jared thought to himself as Henry stared down Kit. He’s no good to anyone if he can’t control his temper under pressure. “Maybe I’m part of the problem and maybe I’m not.” Jared said to get Henry’s attention back on him. He wouldn’t be working for Kit. He’d be working for Jared. “But we’re not talking about me right now.”

“No, we’re talking about hundreds of thousands of people who don’t have a guaranteed place to sleep tonight.” Henry didn’t pull back from the passion in his voice, and Jared really didn’t expect him to. “Are you thinking of opening a homeless shelter somewhere? Buying out the office next to Lady of Refuge to add on to it? Because if you’ve got an idea to dump some money in a charity to make yourself feel better about your seventh home, then yeah, I’m your guy for that. Otherwise, I’m not really sure what you’d want from me.”

“I want to know how you would fix it.” Jared asked quickly, moving around the table to put only a corner between them instead of the full table. He didn’t need to antagonize the man any further. He’d apparently done a fine job of that already.

“Fix what?” Henry asked in growing frustration, looking over the table beside them. “The whole damn country?”

“Yes.” Jared said evenly. “How would you fix the whole damn country?”

“You can’t.” Henry said immediately, the incredulity on his face suggesting Jared might have grown a few more heads in the last few seconds. “You can’t fix these problems. You can help make them better, maybe, but you can’t ever actually fix them for good. That’s not possible.”

Jared felt his heart sink at that answer, and he actually closed his eyes as he allowed disappointment momentary free rein on his features. Kit had been so sure. Even Jared had been pretty thoroughly convinced that Henry was going to be the right man for the job. Maybe there was no such thing as someone right for the job. That was a possibility he had considered. And if Henry wasn’t right for it, then it was even more likely that no one ever would be. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Conrad.” Jared finally said when he opened his eyes, attempting to look gracious as he tapped the table and dismissed the images it had conjured. “The helicopter pilot who brought you will see you back to Denver. I’ll send someone along within the next week to make sure you’re compensated for your time today, but it’s clear this is not a good fit.”

“Because I don’t think you can save the whole damn country by yourself?” Henry asked with an incredulous laugh. “That doesn’t make me a bad fit for a job. All that means is that your expectations are insane.”

“He’s not insane.” Kit stepped in between them as Jared turned away. “He wants to make a difference.”

“We all want to make a difference!” Henry’s volume only kept rising, but Jared didn’t turn around. He walked through the chairs nearby to the window where he’d been when Henry walked in. He’d heard enough. “But the things that are going to fix the country aren’t going to happen with me or with you or with him, no matter how much money he’s got. Unless you want to buy a few dozen senators and put them in your pocket to get some laws changed.”

“Senators aren’t going to fix things.” Jared said from the window without turning around. “No matter what laws they make, it’s not going to fix the overall disease. It’ll only treat the symptoms.”

“And what is the disease?” Jared heard Henry take a few steps closer to the window to push the argument, and heard Kit backtracking to stay between them. “You think you’ve got some kind of theory about how to cure the country with a single shot, I’d love to hear it, pal.”

“Despair, Mr. Conrad.” Jared turned only his head to look back at Henry, only sadness in his voice rather than anger. There was no point being angry about someone being a certain way. With the life Henry had led, Jared couldn’t say he blamed him. “Despair is the disease, and you are sick with it, by your own admission. The only problem in this world that can’t be fixed is the one you don’t believe is fixable, and the majority of this country believes exactly the way you do. That there is no hope of changing the current situation. If they didn’t, it would have been fixed a long time ago.”

“That’s not a disease, that’s being realistic!” Henry was just getting more confused, and the pitch of his voice showed it.

“There is no worse disease in human history than realism.” Jared shot back without backing down, and for once, Kit didn’t try and get in between them. Jared saw her take half a step back out of the corner of his eye, and a hundred other arguments ran through his head with a fire too rapid to feel. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him snap at someone, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Realism sees what is and closes its eyes to what could be. Realistically, you can fly back to Denver tonight, pour some soup for a few dozen people, go home to your empty apartment, get up tomorrow and do it all over again. That’s your reality, and if you liked it so much, you wouldn’t have taken Kit’s offer to come today.”

That took all the fire out of Henry, but Jared could see he was clearly still angry. “It’s what I can do, so I do it. If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears. You can do a lot more with what you’ve got than I can, but you’re delusional if you think you or anyone else can completely fix what’s happening in this country. That’s not the way the world works.”

“The world can be changed.” Jared said just as quietly. “All it takes, all it’s ever taken, is a vision of a better world and the willingness to sacrifice to achieve it.” That was the world he knew, the world as he understood it. Not some immutable fact of terrible patterns that were beyond anyone’s control. The world was filled with people, and people changed all the time. So, therefore, did the world. Enough people could change the world completely.

It has to be possible. Jared thought to himself, refusing to admit the alternative, that things were fixed and could never be changed. That was not a world he was willing to accept. It had to be possible.

It has to change.

“If you can believe that, Mr. Conrad,” Jared went on with a sigh, turned back to face Henry with his hands still clasped behind his back, “stay, and we’ll see if you’re capable of the job I have in mind for you. If not, you should know I wish you the best of luck with the Lady of Refuge. And if you have plans for the office space next door to it, I’ll be happy to review those as well and see what can be done, since you mentioned it.”

Henry hesitated for a while, looking back and forth between Jared and Kit, only to get an encouraging nod from Kit as he considered. Eventually, he sighed deeply and looked back at Jared with a nod. “I don’t think it’s possible, but I also know better than to think I know everything. If you’ve got a plan that you think could work, I can at least listen.”

Jared considered for a while, then moved back toward the table, with a long look at Kit, who gave him the same kind of encouraging look she’d been giving to Henry the whole time. “Full city layout, most recent specifications.” He commanded without looking away from Henry. He didn’t need to look down at the table in front of him to see what took shape. He was watching Henry as the man returned to the table, looking over the latest projection with critical eyes.

Henry shook his head as he took in the view of the city, going so far as to run his hands through some of the lights and stopping to count the floors on some of the buildings. “Well, you’ve certainly got an eye toward uniformity. And symmetry. Cities don’t usually hang onto either for very long.”

“Cities also don’t typically spring out of the wilderness fully-formed.” Jared almost wanted to laugh at the banal observation, but he gave Henry a few minutes to look over the design. Every time he showed the design to someone new, brought someone else into his ambitions, he felt exposed, like a nerve on a tooth that didn’t hurt until someone poked at it. Exposed or not, though, he had promised Kit that he would give the man a fair shake. If he gave Henry any more and he still walked away, Jared could at least say that he had kept his word. “The only way to cure people of the illusion that there is no hope of change is to show them that the dream is attainable. And the only way to do that, on the kind of scale that will effect real change, is to create a place where that dream is reality. A place where people have what they need. Where they can work and live in peace, receive an education, receive the health care they need, go about their business freely, in safety. Create a system that works, to show the rest of the country, the rest of the world, how it’s done.”

Henry just stared for a while, and Jared felt his heart continue to sink and tighten. The incredulity on the man’s face was something he had gotten accustomed to in the last few years of his work toward the city, but he had hoped (there was that word again) not to see it in someone like Henry. Can you see what I see, Mr. Conrad? Jared wondered as the man continued to take in that information, looking around between Jared and Kit and the model of the city between them. Or have you spent too much time seeing the broken parts of the world to envision one made whole?

Henry’s response was a long time in coming, and he used the holographic model of the city to distract him from having to look at either Jared or Kit, who had moved toward Jared’s side of the table. Jared could have kissed her for the silent show of support, under the circumstances. “Every time someone tries to create some kind of utopia in this world, someone pays for it. Usually the people who aren’t privileged enough to live there.” Henry finally said as he looked up at the two of them. “That’s what you’re talking about creating. However high-minded and noble the goal might be, you’re still talking about the same thing I said when I came in here. Creating some kind of perfect playground for the highest bidder to live in.”

Jared shook his head, but he was actually smiling, though he knew Henry still had no idea what he’d said that was so funny. And so accurate, now that Jared thought about it. “If we are to have any hope of working together, Mr. Conrad, I need you to begin questioning your assumptions instead of relying upon them as conclusive evidence.”

“My assumptions? About what?” Henry was quickly getting back to looking incredibly perturbed, and Jared answered quickly.

“About me.” He said without blinking, smiling across the model of the city. “About everything you expect from someone like me, justifiably or otherwise.”

“You’re trying to build a utopia. That’s not an assumption. That’s what you said.” Henry was even more immensely confused. “When you open this city up and start putting things on the market, the richest people in the world are all gonna swoop in here and start fighting for a piece.”

“Which you assume I’ll sell them.” Jared said with a slowly growing smile. He couldn’t blame the man for his confusion at the moment. Jared had been befuddled by the idea himself at first, and he was the one who’d had it.

“If you’re building a utopia, the rich of the world are going to want in, that’s just how things work. Real estate firms, mortgage companies are going to make a killing, corporations are going to want to establish offices . . .”

“You’re assuming that I’ll do what they want.” His smile widened just slightly. “Your realism is showing. Try again.” Jared answered ruthlessly, but Henry seemed to be beginning to go along with the entire situation. 

Maybe. Jared thought as he watched Henry processing things. Just maybe.

“If you’re not going to do what the rest of corporate America wants you to do . . .” Henry let that thought hang as he looked over the City. “Then what? You set up all of your own companies to do everything in the city? Basic needs suppliers? Gas stations? Hotels? City maintenance? You’re going to try and monopolize within the city?”

“Assumptions.” Jared said again, waiting for Henry to arrive at the right conclusions.

Henry’s pause was longer that time. “If you’re not doing what corporate America wants, and you’re not out to do it all yourself, but you plan to control how it is set up and how it operates . . . Then you’re intentionally trying to break the system.” He glanced up when Jared didn’t correct him, finally just beginning on the right track, but he only looked more confused. “But how is building a city and setting it up as your version of a utopia going to break a system that’s already in . . .” Jared watched the wheels turn behind the man’s eyes for a long while before an almost-visible light bulb went off in his face. Even after he saw the idea pass through Henry’s mind, though, it was a long time before Henry actually said anything, his eyes getting slowly wider as he thought through the possible implications.

It’s hard to even imagine, isn’t it? Jared mused to himself. What is the one thing that could break the system so thoroughly as to allow it to really be rebuilt from the ground up? What is the one thing that is anathema to a system hopeless commodified, while simultaneously also its salvation?

Freedom.

“You’re going to give it away.” Henry finally said, staring down Jared as everything he’d previously thought about the man fell away in his eyes, as Jared had requested. “You’re going to build this entire city, then fill it with the people who you think can be the example you want. Guide the process and make it into an example of how to run the world, then give it away. That’s the only thing that would break the cycle.”

Jared nodded slowly, still smiling. “I am going to give it away.” He admitted, feeling as though he had finally let a weight off his chest, but it had been one that he needed to know Henry could come to on his own, however much prompting it had taken to get him there. “The overall situation itself is going to be much more complex than a simple open gift deeded over to the world, but yes. That is the end goal. And that is a fact that very few outside of this apartment, aside from a few other investors and assistants who are in this project with me, are aware of. Perhaps two dozen people in the world.”

Henry shook his head and let out a long, low whistle as he leaned forward with his hands on the table, fingers laced through the outer rim of buildings and dedicated park land that formed the city’s perimeter. “You’re out of your mind.” Henry said as he finally looked back up from the model. “Really and truly, diagnosably, out of your damn mind.”

Jared actually laughed, and returned to the counter nearby where he’d left the water bottle Kit got him. “I’ve been called worse, Mr. Conrad. And will be called many worse things before this is over. But if I am out of my mind, then that is a problem for me to address on my own terms.”

Henry clearly hadn’t expected the comment to make much of an impact, and he just nodded. “This has got to be taking everything you’ve got. You and your investors.”

“Me, my investors, and considerably more.” Jared agreed, moving with Kit to stand near the man and look over the city, every inch of which had a price tag on it that Jared intentionally thought about as seldom as possible. “Some of it will be recouped in time, but not from the city’s residents. I intend to charge hefty rents for many of the businesses that choose to move in and take up office space, as you said, and there will be a city-level tax to pay for some of the city’s own essential services, but all of that will be poured back into the administration of the city. Once the doors are opened on the city, I will have no financial interests in its operation, and neither will anyone investing in the construction.”

“That’s chaos.” Henry said without making it sound like an accusation. “That’s complete financial chaos. That’s an entire city dropping onto the market without a single bank being able to touch it. Nobody’s even going to know what to do with that.”

“Oh, they’ll know.” Jared looked over the model with a smile, feeling excited all over again as he looked forward to the city’s opening. “They’ll try every which way they can to get a foothold. Between now and then, I’ll be laying protections in place to prevent them from doing so. As much as possible, anyway. Long enough to show that the experiment works.”

Henry just shook his head again, still having difficulty wrapping his head around the enormity of it. “What is it you want me to do, exactly?” He finally came back to the root of the reason why he was there in the first place. “What job could you possibly want from me in all this? Be a guidance counselor in one of the schools? This is a little elaborate for that kind of job interview, let me tell you.”

“No. Not immediately, anyway.” Jared said as he looked back over at the man, trepidation taking over his thoughts as he schooled his face to quiescence. This is necessary. He reminded himself yet again. If it wasn’t, you’d never have gotten even this far. But Kit is right. You need this. “I need someone to second-guess me, Mr. Conrad. I need someone who sees the world differently, who understands the ambitions here and can point out the weak spots in the plans I’ve made. Someone to . . . oppose me, if you will. Play devil’s advocate with my plans to make sure they’re well-formed. You would join Kit as one of my primary assistants, along with my colleague Christopher, whom you’ll meet in due time. But Christopher sees things . . .” he broke off with a smile. He looked forward to seeing Henry’s reaction upon meeting Christopher. But not yet. Small steps. “Christopher sees things in very specific terms, and is not known for his out-of-the-box thinking, as invaluable as he is to me. As for Kit . . .” He looked over at her, since he wouldn’t speak for her when she could do so for herself.

“I’ve been around him since the beginning of all this.” She admitted to Henry with an apologetic smile for the necessary duplicity in leading her friend into an interrogation. Around me. Not with me. Jared noted as his smile fell, but Henry was watching Kit. Jared certainly couldn’t blame him. She was well worth watching. “As it’s been developing, I’ve seen it change every step of the way. Helped it, I like to think.” She smiled back over at Jared, taking some of the credit, which she richly deserved. “But I see everything about it with that kind of history. It’s like trying to edit your own writing. If you’ve made a mistake once, you’re less likely to identify it when you look over it a second time, but it’s more likely to stick out to a fresh perspective.”

Henry was back to looking incredulous at that, and he just shook his head. “This is dealing with a whole lot of things I know exactly nothing about. We’re talking about putting together a whole code of laws for a city to function by, within Colorado’s laws, within Federal law, and establishing an entire city, with all the substructures that come with that. That’s huge.”

“Why do you think I hire assistants?” Jared shot back with a low chuckle that actually got a playful glare from Kit. He missed those. “The complexity of a project like this is going to require a lot of different kinds of experts, Mr. Conrad, I’m aware of that. But I’m not hiring you to be an expert. I’m hiring you for your drive, for your insight, and for a singular quality which you possess and which I find to be lamentably rare, in my experience.” Jared looked away at the city and all the implications of the structures depicted there, the dream he’d had in his mind night and day for years that was still so far from completion but was so much closer. He could see it on the table, in his mind’s eye, in the gleam from Kit’s smile as she looked at him, and the skeptical optimism in Henry’s own face. “You have an ambition to do good in this world. It informs and defines every part of you I can observe, even if it seems somewhat fettered by your preconceived notions of your own limitations.” He turned more fully toward Henry, his hands still clasped behind his back as usual. He had been told it made him incredibly off-putting. He just found it comfortable. “You would come to work for me, become familiar with the plans for the city, and in time, begin working on my behalf with some of the experts I’ve hired, each in their own capacity, to further the design work and push it forward to completion. You would help to identify and invite those who will help to make this city the place we want it to be, and if you desire, you would live here yourself, when it opens.”

Henry nodded his understanding of that offer, vague as it was, but didn’t look away from Jared. “And I would be under no contractual obligation to think of you as anything but completely batshit crazy throughout this process?”

Jared shook his head. “I’m actually told it helps, when dealing with me. If you remove the requirement of sanity from my decision-making process, then what remains, however insane, must be the truth.” He smirked, but he wasn’t surprised when the appearance of the smile banished the smile from Henry’s face.

Good. Jared thought with a final stamp of approval. I have no interest in him having any illusions about his employer.

“I need some time.” Henry finally said as he looked back and forth between Jared and Kit. It seemed like he was addressing Kit primarily, since she was the one who had approached him about the job in the first place. “I’ve got too many questions right now to know where to start, and I’m not going to make a decision like this quickly. This isn’t just moving schools or getting a different shift at a job. I’d be uprooting my life and throwing it in here. That’s a lot to think about.”

“We know.” Kit answered before Jared could, but she was still smiling. “Jared’s got things pretty well under control down here for now, so I’m going to go and stay in Denver for the next few days, however long you need to think it over. Christopher will be up there with me, so I’ll introduce you two so you can get to know the rest of the central team, so to speak.”

Henry seemed to agree that that was for the best, and he finally managed to smile at Kit quietly before he looked back at Jared. “I apologize for what I said earlier about you being the problem with the world. I based it on what I knew, and I should know better than to think that’s ever enough.”

“Yes, you should.” Jared said as he reached out to shake the man’s hand again. “Apology accepted. I wouldn’t have blamed you even without it. You had your reasons. I sometimes enjoy using the public’s perception of me to my advantage. I’m sure it won’t be the last time I do something to make you believe I’m nothing but a spoiled rich boy who thinks money can conquer the world.”

“I’d be a little disappointed if it was.” Henry managed a small smile, then released Jared’s hand and stepped away. “Is the helicopter still waiting for us?”

“Yes, it should be. Go on up. I’ll be right there.” Kit said with an encouraging smile, not moving from where she stood beside Jared near the imaging table.

“Have a safe flight, Mr. Conrad.” Jared said with a polite wave, watching Henry make his way nervously out of the unit.

When he was gone and the door was closed, Jared sighed and turned to look at Kit. “You were right.” He said quietly, leaning on the table instead of leaving his hands behind his back. “I know if I didn’t say it immediately, you’d just be waiting until I did, so I thought it would be best to get it out of the way right up front. You were right about him.”

“Thank you.” She said with a grin that showed just how pleased she was with herself. “He’ll take the job. He’ll probably have half a million questions before he agrees, but he’ll take it. He doesn’t even know the whole story yet.”

“Which I imagine you’ll use to convince him should he continue to waver.” Jared smiled down at the city in front of him, shining in points of light and smooth corners, broad avenues and perfect towers in clear harmony of purpose and alignment. It was a beautiful design, and every time he looked at it, it gave him a little more hope of seeing the dream brought to action. “Christopher?” He said in a slightly raised tone.

The door nearby through which Christopher had disappeared opened a moment later to admit him, and he stood in front of it with his hands folded in front of him. “Sir?”

“You heard most of that, I assume?” He asked without looking away from the holographic table.

“I did, Sir.”

“And your assessment of Mr. Conrad?” Jared finally turned around, from Christopher to Kit and then back again.

“He appears in every way qualified, according to the criteria you specified, Sir.” Christopher answered without hesitation or a break in the civility of his tone. Even his eyes didn’t betray his inner thoughts on the subject. Jared knew, for a complete understanding of everything Christopher thought on any given subject, a person would have to delve much, much deeper. “My only concern is the opinion with which he seems to regard you. It appears to have been moderated somewhat by your conversation, but may not remain that way.”

“A fair point.” Jared admitted, though his eyes were mostly on Kit. “Be sure of him. Like Christopher said, I believe you when you say the more he knows, the more on board he’ll be. But still, I want you to be sure. I trust your judgment.”

“Good. You should.” She started to step away toward the door that Henry had gone through, followed closely by Christopher. “If you had let me give him the full disclosure myself, you’d have a new counselor right now instead of just a prospect. But nooooo, you had to see him and size him up for yourself.”

“Have to push somebody before you know whether they can push you back or not.” Jared said without apologizing. “Wasn’t it you who said you could’ve saved a lot of time if you had fought with me more in the beginning?”

Kit glared at him without backing down, still attempting to maintain her smile. “Today is a good day for us, so far. Don’t ruin it.”

Jared nodded. “You’re right. It is a good day for us.” He stood back up and went to the counter to pick up his water again. “Have fun in Denver, and call me if there are any problems with the office by Lady of Refuge. We both know you’re going to buy it.”

Kit glared at him for that, but she was smiling anyway. He knew that smile. It usually meant he had done something right. It wasn’t a look he had seen very often, or very recently. “I’ll haggle it down first this time, don’t worry.”

“I won’t.” Jared’s world paused, as it so often did, at the junction of all the things either of them had previously said to each other and all the things they never would. “Be safe, Kit.”

She just nodded and smiled at him quietly before she moved out of the door that Christopher was holding open for her. Christopher turned and nodded back to Jared, receiving a similar dismissal, then turned to follow Kit, heading for the stairwell leading up onto the roof.

Jared finished the bottle of water in his hands and tossed it in a recycling bin before he went back to the window. The world on the other side of the glass had all the stillness of a frozen photograph as the helicopter blades started up above him, adding the one and only indication of time’s passage to the tranquility of the scene. He watched in silence as the helicopter gained altitude and headed away in a different direction than it had come, he imagined so that Kit could show Henry the layout of the city from the air, since he’d just been looking at it on the projectors.

Am I insane? He asked, and almost smiled as the thought made its way across his mind. If I am insane, would I even be able to ask that question? He shook his head, since the question was irrelevant.

The city is what matters. Hope is what matters.

He raised a hand and put it on the glass to get a little closer to touching his creation. Clouds of dust were everywhere from some of the sites of active construction, and as far as the eye could see, there were massive stockpiles of equipment and raw materials. More came in every day, and more would keep coming. It would be a very busy winter, but he didn’t mind. It would be a productive winter. That was all that mattered.

I hope you see the possibilities of this, Mr. Conrad. He thought as he watched the helicopter disappear along the northern horizon. I hope you see where this could go, what it could accomplish. Not just here, but across the country. There are too many broken pieces of this world, too many people who don’t believe anything can be done about it. Too many people who simply don’t believe. I choose to believe.

I choose to believe that the world can be a different place. A better place. I choose to believe that the world can change. It wants to change. The statistics from the table earlier ran through his mind again, each one engraved on his awareness of the world, each one inscribed over a host of memories of the things he’d seen for himself around the country, around the world. Each one was pain, each one was hunger or cold or helplessness. Each one was fear and loss and reality, for too many millions upon millions of people. It has to change.