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Chapter Thirteen

The conversation with Rebekah was cut-and-pasted from another scene, which is why, even though she’s heavily drugged and she’s half asleep, she can still manage to say big long sentences. I didn’t notice that until after it went to typeset.

In Political Science classes, there are certain things that everybody talks about, in almost every class. One is Plato’s Republic, a book that, despite talking about it constantly, I never did read. But another thing that we always talked about, whenever political ideologies came up, was Adam Smith, and his precursor, Bernard Mandeville. My writing career continues to put useless bits of trivial knowledge to practical use.

In Tangled Web, there was an epigram (the little poem at the beginning), that came from The Fable of the Bees. It was:

As Sharpers, Parasites, Pimps, Players,
Pick-Pockets, Coiners, Quacks, Sooth-Sayers,
And all those, that, in Enmity
With down-right Working, cunningly
Convert to their own use the Labour
Of their good-natur’d heedless Neighbor:
These were called Knaves; but, bar the Name,
The grave Industrious were the Same.
All Trades and Places knew some Cheat,
No Calling was without Deceit.

I think it’s just an awesome quote, and it fit the book so dang perfectly. But it got the axe. Sad.

A lot of things in this book were not originally planned when I wrote Wake Me When It’s Over. However, all the stuff with Edward—his job, his philosophy, how he left the NOS—that’s all exactly how it was outlined way back when. It finally explains this conversation at the end of Wake Me:

“The police are going to be here in a minute,” Edward warned. “Stand up and walk away.”

“Like you did in ‘91?” Felix yelled, gesturing wildly. “Forget everything and leave? I lost everything because of you walking away. The ring and the money—everything! I’m getting it back.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rebekah tuck the ring tremblingly into the pocket of the parka.

“This means something!” Felix continued. “You blew it for me once, Eddie, but you’re not going to do it again!”

“What do you want?” Edward said, taking a step back.

“Tell your daughter where the money comes from.”

“Let her go.”

“Look at him, Rebekah. Everything you hate about me is true about him. The money, the killing... It’s your dear old dad.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but only whimpered.

“He started this!” Felix yelled. “But he left when he found out it was just easier to keep the money for himself.” His shouting was directed just as much at the crowds as it was at Rebekah. I glanced around and saw that many travelers were videoing taping the event.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Edward said, his voice still calm, but his knuckles turning white around the grip of the pistol.

“I don’t? I’ve spent more than twenty years on this, Ed. Twenty years devoted to the cause. I’ve created it– everything that it is, everything that it is going to be–and what have you done? You walked out in ‘91 with everything. Took all the money. And it was all just so you could live the life of luxury in Europe, with a wife and kids on the side. You’ve become exactly what we were trying to destroy!”

“There are other ways,” Edward repeated, though his previously emotionless face turned into a slight frown. “You think that ring is going to bring peace to the world? There are other ways.”

“Like what?” Felix scoffed. “Voting? No, Eddie, we started this together, and I’m going to finish it.”

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