Was this Peter talking?
"Thank you for not giving up on me," he said. "But this Hegemon thing is done. I've lost any chance of making it work. I had my chance, and I blew it. Everybody told me not to bring Achilles here. I had all these plans on how to lead him into a trap. But I was already caught in his."
"I've already told you to shut up once this morning," said Theresa. "Don't make me do it again."
Peter didn't bother buttoning his shirt. "Let's go," he said.
Theresa was glad to see that he didn't try to take anything with him. He only stopped at his computer and typed in a single command.
Then he headed for the door.
"Aren't you going to wipe out your files?" asked John Paul. "Alert your head of security?"
"I just did," said Peter.
So he had been prepared for such a day as this. He already had the program in place that would automatically destroy everything that needed destroying. And it would alert those who needed to be alerted.
"We have ten minutes before the people I used to trust get warned to evacuate," said Peter. "Since we don't know which of them we can still trust, we have to be out of here by then."
His plan included looking after those who were still loyal to him, whose lives would be in danger when Achilles took over. Theresa had not imagined Peter would think of such a thing. It was a good thing to know about him.
They didn't skulk or run, just walked through the grounds toward the nearest gate, engaged in animated conversation. It might be early in the morning, but who would imagine that the Hegemon and his parents were making a getaway? No luggage, no hurry, no stealth. Arguing. A perfectly normal scene.
And the argument was real enough. They spoke softly, because in the stillness of dawn they might be overheard even at a distance. But there was plenty of intensity in their hushed voices.
"Skip the melodrama," said John Paul. "Your life isn't over. You made a huge mistake, and there are people who are going to say that running out like this is an even bigger one. But your mother and I know that it isn't. As long as you're alive, there's hope."
"The hope is Bean," said Peter. "He hasn't shot himself in the foot. I'll throw my support behind Bean. Or maybe I shouldn't. Maybe my support would just be the kiss of death."
"Peter," said John Paul, "you're the Hegemon. You were elected. You, not this compound. In fact, you're the one who moved the Hegemony offices here. Now you're going to move them somewhere else. Wherever you are, that's the Hegemony. Don't you ever say one thing to imply otherwise. Even if your entire power in the world consists of you and me and your mother, that's not nothing. Because you are Peter Wiggin, and dammit, we're John Paul Wiggin and Theresa Wiggin and underneath our charming and civilized exteriors, we're some pretty tough bunducks."
Peter said nothing.
"Well, actually," said Theresa to John Paul, "we're the bunducks. Peter's the big sabeek."
Peter sho
ok his head.
"You are," Theresa insisted. "And do you know how I know you are? Because you were smart enough to listen to us and get out in time."
"I was just thinking," said Peter quietly.
"What?" prompted Theresa, before John Paul could give his standard joking reply: It's about time. It would be the wrong joke for this moment, but John Paul was never very good about knowing when it was the wrong time for his standard jokes. They came out by reflex, without being processed through his brain first.
"I've underestimated you two," he said.
"Well, yes," said Theresa.
"In fact, I've been a little shit to you for a long time."
"Not so little," said John Paul.
Theresa cocked a warning eyebrow at him.
"But I still never did anything as dumb as trying to get into his bedroom to kill him," said Peter.
Theresa looked at him sharply. He was grinning at her.