think?”
I gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Oh, yeah. Forgot who I was talking to, the king of loners.”
He took a drink of wine. “Sometimes it is better to be apart.”
“That doesn’t make it any less lonely.”
“No, it does not,” he agreed.
I eyed him over the rim of my wine glass. “Okay, let’s not ruin this good food with brooding. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about working with the EHJ.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, why’d you quit?”
“I did not quit, obviously, since you are here.”
“Why were you taken off the active members list, then?” I rolled my eyes. “Mister Literal.”
“That is not necessarily a less brooding topic of conversation. And I do not know if I should explain it to you.”
“Why not?”
“It might discourage you from joining.”
“Are you kidding? I’m already in, Robert. I’ve been working toward this my whole life.”
“That is exactly why I do not want to ruin it for you.”
“It’s not going to ruin it for me, I promise.”
He sighed and took another sip of wine. “Well then, to tell you the truth, the fun went out of it.”
“That’s it?” I leaned back in my chair. “I was expecting a big revelation and you just tell me that you were bored?”
“That is all, but that is enough. The Elite Hands of Justice became very political. It became more about helping the right kind of people, making the right impression, hiring the right hero who would get noticed and bring some connection to the team, than about helping people. And when there were not enough high-profile cases in America to suit them, they started doing work overseas. When they got bad press about interfering and trying to take over the world or some sort of rubbish, they decided to opt for space travel.”
“Aliens aren’t going to say ‘Those weird Earthlings are interfering’?”
“I am sure they do, but their press releases and opinion polls do not reach us.”
I laughed. “And I can tell you aren’t into politics.”
“You live long enough, you find out that politics are a meaningless waste of time and energy. Karl Marx once said that religion is the opiate of the masses. Now he would say our publicized political system is the opiate of the masses: people parroting the rhetoric of their designated side, neverbothering to check the facts for themselves or allowing anyone to disagree with them, because their side is always right.”
“Oh, did I set off a rant?”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m very anti-partisan too. I think both sides are equally ridiculous.”
“I have fought in one too many wars over the years—some that were actually trying to stop evil, and some that were not. And some worthy causes and soldiers were spit upon because of politics. I thought the Elite Hands of Justice were the last bastion of good faith—of people trying to right wrongs, regardless of what others thought, just to make the world a better and safer place. And the people respected them for it.”
“But not anymore.”
“I am not saying they are not still seeking to make the world a better place, just that they care now about what others think. And now no one respects them for it.”
“Well, you’re not discouraging me,” I said, taking a forkful of the delicious cheesecake that had appeared at some point during his tirade.
“Well, I am glad, then. I think someone of your determination and idealism would be good for the team.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks warmed at the compliment and the way he looked at me when he said it. “And you know something else? I think you should go back, too.”
“What ever for?”
“To change it. You’ve had a hand in picking and training these new recruits; you probably know them better than their teammates. You know who’s decent and who’s not. Get rid of the waste and turn the team back to what it stood for.”
He laughed. “You make a convincing argument.”
“But you should finish