“I… the self-correction. It’s tr-ue.” The words cracked as they rose from the Anonymous’s manikin. “That’s what the self-correcting push is. I’d noticed it. I didn’t understand it until now, but the worst of the trends always reset, settle down just before the point of no return. I always worried about recessions in the past, economic contraction, but since Sniper shared Tully Mardi’s speech at Ingolstadt this morning I’ve realized the ripples have been threatening something a lot worse than a recession. The Hives are not as friendly to each other as we like to think. It’s true. It has been stopping war.”

“What are you saying?” Bryar cried. “That it’s okay? That they should get away with murdering thousands of people?”

“Of course not,” the Anonymous replied, “and certainly not in secret to further their Hives’ interests against the others. They’ve been doing that, too, I can see it now. The inexplicable resets always favor those three Hives.”

Kosala rushed a pace toward the doll, as if to seize or slap it. “That’s what matters to you most? Hive bias? Then I suppose it would’ve been okay if they did it for everyone equally?”

“We did.” Andō’s declaration brought not only Bryar’s glare, but everyone’s. “A ship that boards too much cargo will sink, however strong. The Masons have benefited from this as much as we have. So have your Cousins. We can even save your CFB now if you like, we have a plan all ready. We were going to do it for you in the spirit of goodwill, but if you’d rather we can let you fall apart.”

Would you expect the lady to threaten tears here, reader? That Kosala did, but threatened fists as well.

Headmaster Faust glanced up from reading. “I have students on this list.”

Director Andō nodded acknowledgment. “Not as many as you would have lost in wars.”

Faust glared. “I was talking to the system’s creator, Andō, not to you.”

“The system is three hundred years old, Felix. Its creators are long dead.”

The old Headmaster shook his head. “Not their ideas. The Humanists created this. No one else sees history as composed of individuals. On their own the Mitsubishi would target corporations, Masons governments, Europe nation-strats, me bash’es, the Anonymous ideas. Only the Humanists still think the world is made of individuals.” He leaned forward. “Ganymede? You can’t pretend you aren’t the heart of this.”

The Duke President had sat detached, giving the papers a half skim as he continued to sooth his trembling sister. “This list is just names.” He looked to Jehovah. “Does Your Highness have more exact proof?” Even in such crisis His Grace does not forget the title due an Emperor’s Son.

“Not yet, Your Grace,” Jehovah answered, “but the Commissioner General is close to proof.”

Ganymede’s lips pursed for a moment—a stifled wince perhaps? “The Commissioner General. How many of their staff know?”

Kosala’s face grew dark. “Ganymede, you still haven’t answered if you knew.”

The Duke crossed his arms, the yellow diamond fabric flashing like the Sun without its warmth. “A leader is responsible for the actions of his Hive, regardless of personal involvement. Even if I didn’t know, if my Hive is guilty then I am, so are Andō, Perry, His Majesty, and all others who have led our Hives in the last three centuries.” He waited for Spain to nod. “But blame can wait. What matters now is that we stop the police from exposing this without warning and throwing the world into—”