And, of course, the old adage required that they not become aware of it until it was too late. More than once, at such a moment as this, Nash had been tempted to issue a warning to that effect, but what would be the good of it, when this particular truth was buried in a host of his other lies? Still, Nash mused, sitting back in his chair to study the man before him, it might be interesting one day to actually say something, to add a little variety. Sources of genuine entertainment these days were few and far between, and his body’s infirmities dictated too many of his activities. On the other hand, here was this man, this young and bristling Malachi, fresh and ready, passionate about his ambitions, determined in his means to achieve them. How was Nash to prick that bubble of arrogant enthusiasm with the sharp edge of reality? Especially since, in the long run – and for that matter, short term – Nash would be much better served to use this man as originally intended and let the truth die the lonely and bitter death it deserved.
