The Architect’s work schedule demands he take a walk around the capitol building. He holds his hands behind his back as he walks, observing the tourists and passerbys. A man tosses an empty bottle toward a trash can and misses, but refuses to go pick it up. A woman shouts at her misbehaving children, who ignore her words. People walk in chaotic, unpredictable patterns all over the capitol grounds. He finds it discomforting.
And yet, he’s thankful for this opportunity. A reminder of what he’s working so hard to contain. He’s further relieved to see, all along the exterior of the building, the eyes and ears of his operation hard at work. They’re the start of the rebuilding process, he tells himself.
He can’t afford the time to get lost in thought, however. The buzzing of his phone reminds him that are so many subordinates to manage, so many contacts to appease, and so many deviants to set back on the right track. He’s expecting a call from his new investor, or one of his new business partners, but instead receives a call from an old thread. A dark, unseemly thread that just can’t be plucked, as inconvenient as it might be. No matter, business is business at the end of the day.1