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"I know," said Cole.
"How can I leave you alive? None of the captured EMP devices is in the White House. This one proves that I know who makes these things."
"It's more important that you remain President than that I remain alive," said Cole.
Torrent lowered the weapon. "I haven't been doing what you think," said Torrent. "But everyone will think it."
"I know you didn't plan the details, sir," said Cole. "I know you never meant to betray anybody."
"Nevertheless, that was the effect," said Torrent. "I hate it. I grieve for the pain I caused. It was like members of my own family dying. But it's the only way I know to do my job, which is more important than any one life or any dozen or hundred or thousand lives."
"Exactly," said Cole.
Torrent was taken aback. "I know you better than that, Coleman. It's impossible to believe you don't care."
"I've been wrestling with this from the start, Mr. President. Cecily and I suspected you had more to do with events than you were admitting—the civil war, even the assassinations. We couldn't prove it, but we decided to watch you. And you gave us every chance. We saw you make hard decisions quickly and intelligently. We saw you turn every circumstance to the advantage of America. I think that if anyone can take us there, you can."
"Where do you think I'm trying to take us?" asked Torrent.
"To peace on Earth, sir," said Cole.
"I don't understand," said Torrent. "You have the proof that I know the people who make these things. I got it into the White House, I had it here when the only conceivable purpose was to protect me against my own best soldiers. They didn't have proof, and they wanted to kill me. Why don't you?"
"They missed the point," said Cole. "A good ruler isn't always a good man. Or rather, he is a good man, but he uses a different standard of good."
"A higher standard!"Torrent said, agreeing with him.
"A larger one, let's say. You have to look past what's good for any one person—even people you know well, people who trust you—and choose what's good for everyone, even if it hurts the people you trust."
"I needed an incident," said Torrent. "I needed a Lusitania, a provocation. But I didn't understand just how debilitated you all were from the nictovirus. I thought that at least a few of our soldiers would be up to fighting them off. I thought it would be bloody but we'd win."
"We did," said Cole.
"Too late to save Cecily's boy," said Torrent.
Cole wondered—is he a good enough liar to fake the tears coming down his cheeks?
"Cole, it bought me a chance to remake the most troubled continent."
"And you took that chance," said Cole, "and you're doing it."
Torrent dropped Benny's handgun. "You're not my enemy."
"Oh, I hate you, sir. I'm so angry I could cry. I could scream. I could hit something, even kill. But I'm a soldier, sir. I understand that there are casualties in war. Collateral damage. I understand that commanders give orders that sometimes have terrible consequences for many of their own, that they often lose their best, and yet they must give those orders."
"So knowing what you know, you'll still support me?"
"I think that's the gist of it, sir."
"No matter what you say, Cecily will never—"
"I will never tell Cecily, sir," said Cole. "It would destroy her and accomplish nothing."
Torrent turned to the side, leaning back against the table saw. He touched his hand to his forehead. "I'm glad," said Torrent. "I didn't want to kill you. You're one of the best I've got."
"But you would have done it, if it had been necessary," said Cole.
"You know that I can't do this without reducing democracy to a sham, at least for a while," said Torrent.
