He gave her a pointed look. "You used to say that politics was the most corrupt, soulless profession in existence; that it was worse than working for a law company or a corporate management team."

She returned his look. "Yes," she said. "I did say that."

"So that's how you've found the life to be?"

She took a deep breath. This could be a set-up of course. In the world of politics you could never discount that possibility. But her instincts, which had always served her well, told her it wasn't. Jackson was just trying to see if his old friend and lover was still the same person she had once been before he talked about whatever was on his mind. Finally, she nodded. "That's how it is," she told him. "And I hate every minute of it. I've almost quit in disgust a few times."

"So why do you stay if you hate it so much?"

"I believe you remember our past conversations," she replied slyly. "The ones about why I needed to go into politics." She smiled a little in fondness, remembering the closeness that accompanied those talks. "You used to think I was crazy, remember?"

"I remember," he said warmly, remembering the same thing. Yes, this woman before him was the same person he had once loved. "But I also remember being impressed by the complexity of your ambitions. I wish you the best of luck in them."

"I appreciate that, Kevin," she told him.

"But in the meantime," he said, turning to business, "there's this war going on."

"So I've noticed," she answered. "I toured the blast site in the Calvetta district today. It's rather frightening to see what one blast of an EastHem laser can do. One tenth of a second of energy release from eighty kilometers away and more than nine hundred people are dead. And that wasn't even one of the bad ones. Those are up on Triad."