Foster: “I am the twelfth O.S.”

Papadelias: “What?”

Foster: “Ockham said it. ‘I am the twelfth O.S., I don’t intend to be the last.’ ”

Papadelias: “Heh. I didn’t expect to actually guess the name right. O.S. it is, then. Twelve generations of murder, Foster. You can end it.”

Foster: “You’re sure you’ll get their bosses this way?”

Papadelias: “Nothing’s certain in this world, Foster, but this is as close as we’re going to come.”

Foster: “Fine. You’re right, if it has to end, it should end with the right people going down. It should end with the truth.”

File transfer initiated 03:56 UT 03/28/2454

Papadelias: “Thanks.”

Foster: “Don’t thank me.”

Papadelias: “As you like. I’ll make sure no one finds out it was you.”

Foster: “No, let them know. Let everybody know.”

Papadelias: “What?”

Foster: “If there are to be limits to what secrets a sensayer will keep, then everyone should know them. We’ve decided this is acceptable, that the recording isn’t covered by sensayer confidentiality, so let everyone know who made the recording, and how, and why. Let them judge for themselves whether or not to trust us after this.”

Papadelias: “You really want your name mixed up in this? We’re not talking about twenty minutes of fame here, we’re talking about your whole life. Even being a sensayer can’t be the same after everyone in the world knows you as that sensayer.”

Foster: “So be it.”

Papadelias: “Even though you’re a Gag-gene? Even twenty minutes of fame is long enough to bring out all kinds of old bad.”

Foster: “I don’t care about myself in this.”

Papadelias: “And what about Julia Doria-Pamphili? It won’t be easy keeping that name out of things if you do full disclosure on the recording and why you made it.”

Foster: “Then let Julia’s name be out there too. Julia and I have both been making too many judgment calls for other people. I think I’ve done right, and to some extent I think Julia has too. Time to see if the world agrees.”

Papadelias: “It’s four in the morning, Foster. Go to bed. After a night’s sleep and a solid breakfast, if you still feel like destroying yourself and your mentor, then we’ll talk.”

Foster: “I’m not going to change my mind.”

Papadelias: “Good night, Foster.”

Foster: “I’m not! Believe me, I know when I’m sure about something.”

Papadelias: “Listen, Foster, conviction is a virtue, but sometimes doubt is too. You’ve known Mycroft Canner almost a week, you should have picked that up by now. Go to bed, and make sure you sleep, okay? Come to me rested, calm and sensible and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you throw yourself to the media wolves tomorrow.”

Foster: “All right. Tomorrow.”

Call ended 04:02 UT 03/28/2454

HERE AT LAST THEN, WITH CARLYLE DOZING, UTOPIA BUSTLING, JEHOVAH COMFORTING HELOÏSE, BRIDGER SNEAKING OFF SOFTLY WHILE I SLEEP, AND DAWN’S ROSE FINGERS ALREADY TICKLING THE EDGE OF NIGHT, ENDS THE LONG FIFTH DAY OF MY HISTORY.