The Sins of the Fathers

Chapter Twenty-One

The Rosen House

Sanibel Island

Florida

"I will be sorry to see you go, Pan...we have all got rather used to having you around, my friend?" Gideon Palmer said, shaking Deacon's hand and then showing him to a seat on the old porch. "When is your flight?"

"Four hours...I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye?" Deacon grinned as he sat down, watching Palmer pour coffee for them both.

"Report delivered?" Palmer asked, pushing a mug towards his guest.

"Yes...and with no mention of Mena's last-minute surprise...we were so lucky that Blake Grey left and took my technical support with him, just to save a few bucks? Can I ask what progress you have made with your own enquiries?"

"Of course...you have every right to know...but the answer is not very far?" Palmer sat back in Jacob's old chair and puffed out his cheeks. "This is one accusation that we are loathe to make...pushing China into a corner could have serious consequences for everyone and we lack real evidence...but the President is keen to make other world leaders aware? We just don't think that this is a secret we should keep to ourselves?"

"But you don't know who you can trust not to blab?"

"Oh, I don't think we entirely trust anyone...this is politics and self-interest always comes before loyalty to an ally?" Palmer grinned and sighed at the same time, happily confessing his generally low opinion of politicians. "Sean just feels that if it comes out some other way and anyone discovers that we already know, our motives will be questioned, straight after the release of Mena and Miss Hamilton...as if we were keeping mass genocide a secret to make our own deals?"

"Yeah...I get it...and the public reaction would be horrific...you are trapped between a rock and a hard place?" Deacon said, before taking a sip of his coffee. "How is Mena...sorry Prof, Lady Forbes...how is she doing?"

"Planning her future...her release should be announced this week and I think she is going to spend some time in Boston with my daughter and her in-laws. She feels that she sticks out down here, and as she doesn't feel able to put aside her British clothes, Boston will give her a chance to experience a little anonymity whilst she undertakes some proper therapy. And she is going to write a book, to earn some money for herself...the non-disclosure agreement stops her discussing certain things, as you can imagine, but I think she still has a story to tell and it might be therapeutic for her?"

"That sounds positive...and I think I get the clothes thing?" Deacon frowned, pleased that Mena was moving on, but still worried about her. He had only scratched the surface of what she had suffered over thirty-four years in Britain, and he was still amazed how well she had coped with her escape. "She has been brainwashed to think that she has to look like that over decades...she can't just ignore that in a matter of days?"

"No...she can't...and she possibly never will...Daughters of Eve at her level...within the so-called new aristocracy...are so effectively controlled that they simply stop thinking for themselves and accept what they are told as the gospel truth...literally the gospel truth?" The Professor explained, topping up their coffee. "Brianna would not even stand up without our permission when she got home. She sat where we put her and stayed there, hardly moving a muscle, until we said something...she needed permission from her keepers to do anything at all, except breathe?"

"By levels, do you mean that there are different rules for other Daughters of Eve?" Deacon asked, genuinely interested in the subject and well aware that he happened to be talking to the world's leading expert on all things Reformist. He had learned a lot during his detailed investigation but some things still confused him.