Michael slowly stood, careful not to make the slightest noise. Though there wasn’t much point in being quiet. Whoever had arrived knew Michael was there, obviously. The question was, was it Kaine or an impostor?

He stepped lightly over to the trapdoor, leaned forward, and looked through the hole.

A man stood next to the ladder, staring up. And it was him—Kaine—in the same Aura that Michael had last seen him. Not the old, decrepit geezer from the first time, but the younger version. Perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair, a sharp jawline, bright and intelligent eyes. In his dark, three-piece suit, he could have passed for a handsome businessman.

“May I come up?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

Not the greatest start to the most important conversation of his life.

Kaine grabbed hold of a rung, and as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a grown man in a suit to do, he started to climb. Michael stepped back when Kaine’s head popped through the opening, and then the Tangent was on his feet, standing before him. He had almost a foot in height on Michael’s Aura, and his face was totally unreadable. He didn’t look angry, but he sure didn’t seem too happy, either.

Neither of them said a word for several seconds.

It was Kaine who spoke first. “Why am I here, son? I’ve given you several chances, yet you reject me every time.”

“I…” This wasn’t quite how Michael had imagined it.

“You only exist because of me,” Kaine continued. “Surely you realize that I could’ve had you terminated at any point. I have watched in wonder—and amusement, I have to say—as you run around like an obedient dog, doing whatever Weber commands.”

Michael tried to recover. “Listen—”

“Yes? Why am I here?” Kaine interrupted.

“I…well…” Michael motioned toward the beanbags. He was having a hard time figuring out where to begin. “Can we sit down? I know you’re powerful, but I’m not going to botch this. Let’s sit down and talk through it without your power act.” Michael fought to stay put, expression unwavering.

It took Kaine a moment to answer, but when he did, Michael swore he could make out a slight smile on the Tangent’s lips. “Fair enough. Fair enough.” Kaine stepped over to the nearer beanbag and sat down, as limber as any teenager.

Michael sat back down in Bryson’s infamous bag, settled himself.

“Now,” Kaine said, exaggerating his patient tone. “May I please know why I’m here?”

Michael eyed the man carefully. “How can I know for sure that you’re Kaine? I was just at the World Summit and supposedly watched you die the true death.”