“But he could have.” Tom grew agitated. “He could’ve done it. And he would’ve gotten away with it.”

“Of course. Think real hard: Who writes our laws?”

“Congress.”

“And who do congressmen obey?”

“Trillionaires,” Tom said bitterly.

Blackburn nodded for him to touch the knife. Tom pressed too hard and felt a nip of sharpness. He raised his finger up, but it wasn’t bleeding like a real finger would. The skin was pink and almost plastic.

“My dad hates them all,” Tom said. “Joseph Vengerov, Reuben Lloyd, Sigurdur Vitol, all of them, but then he saw Vengerov in person over break, and he didn’t say anything to him. He looked scared of him. I didn’t get it then. But I think I do now. Vengerov could’ve done anything to us. If Dad gave him a problem, Vengerov could just knock him off. And he wouldn’t even get punished for it.”

“That’s the reality of a world ruled by money.” Blackburn pointed two fingers, and Tom remembered to shut his eyes again. “The divine right of kings can’t be used anymore to justify why some people are more equal than others, so now the law does it. The legal system is entirely controlled by money, yet it’s still hailed as a neutral instrument of justice. If you cross the law, you’re the sinner, and you deserve punishment—even if you’re not necessarily violating a universal human standard of right and wrong, you’re acting against the interests of the rich guy who paid a lot of money to make sure what you’re doing is illegal. Soft or sharp?”

A scattering of prickles played across Tom’s finger. “Soft.” And then code flickered before Tom’s eyes. He opened his eyes to see what he’d touched. A cotton ball.

“That’s why you have to tread lightly with men like Joseph Vengerov,” Blackburn added. “If you face an enemy vastly more powerful than you, your first task is to downplay yourself as a threat. You don’t show your face and protest him, you don’t talk about him to a friend, or even anonymously on the internet, because there is no anonymity in a surveillance state—just databases and watch lists. A smart person does nothing to reveal what he truly believes, because if he does, he’ll get neutralized before he can act on those beliefs. The deadliest enemy, Raines, is the totally silent one who acts alone and plans alone and wears a great big smile before his enemies. He’s just another face in the crowd until he’s slipped cyanide in a cup or plunged a dagger into a back. By the time anyone knows he’s a threat, it’s too late to stop him.”