Empire's Legacy

Chapter 28: The Limits of Power

He considered her for a moment. "I have rather less power than you imagine," he said at last.

"Bullshit. Everyone knows you're the real power. Naisbitt is just a figurehead."

Smiling slightly, he said, "While that is, in some respects, very true, I am hardly all-powerful, and you do Naisbitt a disservice; he is not a man lacking power. While you're correct that I tend to keep tabs on your whereabouts, my interest in the Empire is essentially non-existent. Certainly I would not have realized what the Waratah contained, nor would I have been interested in finding out; my interest is in you and your welfare, not in damaging those things in which you are interested. " He hesitated and then continued, choosing his words carefully. "I am...possessed of a great deal of power to do a great many things, it is true. However, there are...certain things...that I am not at liberty to do, or to object to, for a variety of reasons."

She snorted. "And why is that? We'll pretend, for a moment, that I believe you."

Brenner ran a hand through his hair. "Annieka, I made a succession of choices that ultimately placed me in my current position. Those choices resulted in an exorbitant amount of power, perhaps more power than any one man should ever possess—"

"Definitely more power than one man should ever possess."

He shrugged. "Regardless. Those choices gained me power, prominence, the ability to do almost anything I please. But those choices have also lost me a great deal. Like your mother."

Amy choked. "You killed my mother. You made a choice to kill my mother. How the hell does that come anywhere close to you making choices that resulted in you losing her?"

"I lost your mother as a result of the choices I made, long before she died."

"Before you killed her."

He acquiesced with a slight movement of his hand. "As you wish." His face inscrutable, he continued, "Your mother intended to leave Idylla and take you and Cam with her. Which you may or may not be aware of, depending on if you were the child in the closet—or if the child in the closet chose to divulge that information to you."

"I'm not telling you which of us was in the closet that day."

"I know," he said simply, and then his lips twitched upwards. "You get your poker face from me, Annieka. You would have made a hell of a politician."

"Is it any wonder I ran in the opposite direction as fast as I could?"

He rubbed a hand across his forehead, smoothing out the lines of tension. "I loved your mother dearly, Annieka, but I couldn't let her leave. And, more than that, I couldn't let her take you and Cam away from me. The two of you were the only reason I kept coming home in the evenings. You were my reason for living."

"That's very sweet," she said, sarcasm dripping from every word, "But what's your point?"

"If I cared for you and your brother as little as the two of you seem to think," he said patiently, "why do you think I continued to protect you? Why do you think I continued to clean up Cam's messes when you send them my way? And don't think I don't know about the ones you haven't told me about—why do you think so many have gone away so easily?"

Amy stared at him. "What's your point?" she repeated, her mouth suddenly dry.

"You and Cam are still my reason for living," he said. "I'm not denying I'm driven by ambition; I have it in bushels, and it will never go away. I like power. It's a heady feeling, knowing people will do what you tell them to do—that they have to." He looked up, his eyes absently focusing on one of the Empire flags. "It has not escaped my notice, Annieka, that in all your years at the University, in all of your travels, with all of the places you have been and all the things you have seen, you have never permitted yourself to become close to anyone. You have no friends; your colleagues are nothing more to you than means to an end. The only person you have ever cared about, aside from your mother and, once, I think, me, is Cam."

"Caring about people makes you vulnerable," she said, her voice strained.

His eyes dropped from the ceiling to her face. "And who do you think taught you that?"

She didn't answer.

"You and I are more alike than I think you would ever care to admit, Annieka," Brenner said, folding his hands across his stomach. "I can accept that." A smile flitted across his face. "After all, as you yourself have noted, I have done nothing if not protect you. But," he added, leaning forward, "you have made my point for me. You have spent your life eschewing personal relationships because as long as you aren't connected to anyone, you can't get hurt—and you can't hurt anyone else, either. The only person you truly love is your brother, and no one would ever dare touch him to get to you because of me." He rose, picking up his robes from the chair. "Unlike you, however, I have no one to protect me."

"You're telling me that the limitations of your power are dictated by your affection for me and Cam?" she said in disbelief.

He shrugged again. "Disbelieve all you like, Annieka. But when my children are threatened, I will do anything asked of me. Including—" He stopped.

Amy lifted her gaze to her father's face. "Including what?"

He walked around the table, shrugging into his robes as he moved towards the doors. Just as he reached them, he said, facing away from her, "I cannot admit complicity to anything, Annieka. But I am not quite the monster you think I am." Reaching inside his sleeve, he added, "The eyes will be back online momentarily. Should you intend to remain in the Capitol for longer than is your usual bent, I would be happy to speak with you again."

"Maybe we could do dinner," she said sarcastically.

"I would like that," he said, startling her. "I'm afraid I must go now. Chancellor Naisbitt will be waiting." He glanced over his shoulder as the doors opened. "Goodbye, Annieka."

"Goodbye," she repeated.

"Oh," he said, pausing just across the threshold. "You were wearing blue."

"I beg your pardon?"

"When you graduated from the University. You may not remember. I'm certain you had many other things on your mind at the time."

Amy blinked in surprise and then said calmly, "I imagine one of your underlings watched the ceremony and reported the relevant details."

"I watched from the balcony," he said. "It smells oddly of onion bagels."

She stared at him. She distinctly remembered that balcony. A quantum physicist had once taken her up onto the balcony, hoping to get lucky, but the smell had sent Amy away the moment she'd stepped foot inside. She hated onions. "You had a seat on the stage."

He shrugged, his back still to her. "You had made it clear in the preceding months that you wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't think you wanted me in such close proximity, so I stayed away. But I couldn't not be there." A bell chimed. "I really must go. Goodbye again, Annieka."

And then he was gone, the doors closing quietly behind him.