Anyone interested in making a pic for the story?

After my father's... vigorous reminder of what constituted proper behavior, I dared not refuse his orders involving recruiting Jacob. Yes, I wanted to disagree, I was dying to tell Jacob how I felt. Still, I knew better than to attempt such foolishness. I was my father's son and had no right to interfere in a matter as important as recruiting a powerful telepath. I was his soldier, so interfering and actively sabotaging a mission constituted insubordination at best and counted as treason at worst.

Nothing good could come from working against my father. And if I failed... If withholding information about Marie was worth electrocution, I couldn't even imagine what would happen if I worked against Jacob's recruitment.

It was simply out of my hands, I thought. I wouldn't be able to control whether he joined or didn't. I could only listen to what my father said, do as I was told, and hope my friend would make the right decision for himself.

Luckily, Jacob got it. He understood I was being forced and that I had zero choice in the matter. I'd say the words Father wanted me to say and we'd immediately play video games or chess.

It did get tiring though. I'd invite him to stay for dinner, go to events with him multiple times a week, etcetera on my father's orders, despite being an introvert and generally wanting to be left alone.

I'd wake up, train, go to school, go home, study, and or work for my father and when all that was done, be told by the man to bring Jacob over. Or I would be told to call for the delivery of the kind of food he likes. The pressure to be a good host was high as well, seeing as this was an assignment and these encounters were orders. Disobedience carried a terrible penalty and slacking off carried only a slightly lesser one. Slightly.

Jacob was my friend, so being a good host to him was certainly easier than if it had been anyone else, but that didn't change the fact that I was introverted and, I admit, a bit socially awkward. I tried my best, but sometimes I just didn't know the right way to say or ask for something.

Still, the endless money to buy food and goods for entertainment was able to take my mind off my fears of disappointing my father and fear of punishment, and I managed. Jacob was very understanding as well. If it looked like I was 'done' socializing or was mentally fried he'd leave me alone. He'd even make sure not to leave my room so Father wouldn't be suspicious.

But the entire situation… It just felt so fake. Every minute Jacob spent at my place felt staged, scripted. And in a way, it was. Jacob would say "Thank you" as my father pretended that we 'happened' to order enough food for one extra person at dinner. We 'happened' to carry all the snacks he liked. I'd pretend to try to convince my father to let Jacob eat with us. Father would pretend to give in. And Jacob would pretend along with us, acting surprised while knowing the truth.

We'd all lie to each other and I'd feel as if I was watching trapped behind a window, wishing I could end it all. Truthfully, I didn't want Jacob to join. He was too... airy, vibrant, and happy. He had a natural upbeat energy. I didn't want him to get bogged down into such a drab affair. I was sure his optimism and happiness would wither up and die after he saw how terrible things were.

That was on a personal level. I just wanted to keep things simple, video games, talking about chess, and complaining about particularly harsh finals. Nothing more. Still, it wasn't my call.

"What is it like?" Jacob said suddenly. He continued to watch the tv screen from where he sat on the couch in the living room. I looked up from my phone.

This question surprised me.

"What is what like?"

"The work you do... for the Brotherhood?"

I paused. Then I breathed in. "I... Sometimes, it's terrifying and sad and heartbreaking." I paused for a second, trying to decide whether I'd be truthful with him or not. "Other times when I do work with him... I feel like... Like I know that I'm doing the right thing with my powers. That I'm helping people."

"That's quite a range." He said simply.

"I guess," I said. "Sometimes you come across horrific scenes. That's just how it is. I've…" I swallowed. "I've seen people die a few times, actually. It really strengthens my drive to move forward. But those people who hate mutants so much they're willing to hurt them… They are the ones who cause all of that sadness. They're the ones I point that drive towards. I feel like it's my greatest honor to sabotage and kill them before they hurt any other innocents." I floundered, waiting for Jacob to react. "That's how I feel, anyhow…" I said awkwardly, fidgeting with my phone.

"I see... so you have killed...on purpose then?" Jacob's eyes were still glued to the screen. I looked at him, trying to gauge how he felt, but he was unreadable.

I opened and closed my mouth. I'd already kind of given him the answer, of course, but saying it outright felt wrong. "Yes," I finally admitted. "Does that change your view of me?"

Jacob finally paused the game and turned to face me. "No," he said, looking more serious than I've ever seen him. "My grandfathers have served in wars and have had to kill people too. Both of them. I haven't known that forever, but when I found out it didn't change my opinion of them either."

I didn't get a chance to respond.

My fathers' pleased voice rang out from the other side of the room. "So you understand that we are at war. Very good, Jacob."

Father?

We spun around in our seats, the conversation completely derailed.

Father walked towards us slowly, hands in the pockets of his coat. He wore a smile that looked suspiciously smug. "I can tell that you are personally hesitant to kill. Yet, I know that you want to use your abilities to help others. It is your nature, after all, Jacob."

Jacob said nothing.

"How about this?" Father continued, smiling as if he'd just had a great idea. "In two weeks, the Brotherhood will have a mission consisting purely of rescuing and freeing captive mutants. I'm certain you and your abilities will be able to help. You won't be required to kill. And you'll be able to determine if you want to join us through that experience."

"I'm not at all useful in any way in terms of my powers. I won't be much help." The chess player was uncharacteristically hesitant.

Father insisted. He had reached the couch, standing at a respectable distance, "That can be changed," he said, still smiling.

"Really? How exactly? I only know of one person with a power like mine and we didn't really… hit it off, if you know what I mean." Jacob said.

Well, that explained the hesitation.

"Nonsense," Father verbally slapped the boy's doubts aside. "You two are hardly the only ones with your gift. Additionally, Xavier is self-taught, and that never slowed him down. I personally know several telepaths. Surely, together we'll be able to figure out a good, effective training regimen."

"So... you'll really train me?" Jacob didn't seem to believe it. He seemed certain he would never learn to properly use his abilities. Not without Xavier's help anyway. But Father nodded, there was no doubt in his mind he'd be able to help Jacob. He was a gifted telepath, he simply needed guidance.

"Yes."

"What would be required of me if I were to accept and help on this one mission?" Jacob was now seriously considering it. It was obvious by how he stared straight ahead at the TV but wasn't at all paying attention to what was on the screen... My father's eyes shimmered with anticipation.

"Your complete cooperation during training and strict adherence to my orders when we go out to help these people." Jacob thought it over for a while.

"How many are there?"

"At least 100, mostly children." The large number made Jacob turn his focus back to my Father. "They're at differing facilities that specialize in different age groups. The idea is to separate the adults and children so they cannot help each other."

Jacob's face immediately soured.

My father, sensing his empathy, continued speaking about it.

"Some of the children are too young to have fully discovered their mutation. Their unusual hair or eye colors had flagged the authorities' attention. Of those whose mutation is known, they only keep the weak ones. The mutants who pose a threat are… 'dealt with' immediately. I'm sure you know what that means." Father stopped for a moment and looked at Jacob, probably trying to discern whether he'd already convinced Jacob or if he needed to push him further. Jacob clenched his teeth.

"And you're sure I can help?" he asked, uncertain. "I've… I've never used my powers to hurt anyone. Or well…"

"You can learn," my father pressed on. It was his very typical 'have faith in your abilities' voice he used when he wanted to sound reassuring. He knew that Jacob was getting close to a decision, and he wanted to seal the deal.

"I…" Jacob looked at me, looking unsure. "Chris?" He asked.

Wait, what?

"What do you think?" he asked, echoing the same words from before.

He asked this of me? I had nothing to do with this conversation before. I was a mere bystander. It was certainly jarring to just be pulled in like that.

"I…" I could feel my father's heavy gaze on me. There was only one right answer, it seemed.

I tried to collect my thoughts as quickly as possible. "I think... you'd be fine. You do well at anything you commit to." It was so hard to do as I knew my Father wished while also being honest since I didn't want to lie to my friend. It was a tough balancing act, but I would at least attempt it. My strong attachment to both parties demanded it.

Jacob nodded. "Thanks. Okay well. I'm not joining you but... I'll help you on this mission. In whatever a minuscule way I can." He sent me a small smile that was meant to reassure himself just as much as me.

My father still had that smile on his face. It seemed normal enough to someone who wasn't paying attention, like Jacob. But, I knew him well enough to fully comprehend his expression. He looked incredibly pleased with his handiwork, like a cat that had caught a rodent. His plan was finally coming to fruition, even though it had taken ages for him to convince Jacob. Though… in a way, the difficulty of this had made his victory even sweeter.

"Very good. You won't regret your choice. Seeing as you lack training, you'll need to come directly after and before classes so you can catch up."

Jacob didn't look convinced. Father continued speaking before Jacob could get a word in. "I found a way to accommodate my son's schedule, including club activities. We'll do the same for you."

A sigh. "Alright. Well, I can hand over some supervisory duties but I won't be available at all at least one day a week."

"Nothing that can't be worked around," my father said.

We moved to the dining room as Jacob began to outline his typical weekly schedule: class and study times as well time spent traveling and such. He grabbed a pen and paper and began jotting it all down.

After this was done, Father scrutinized it and noted what could be changed and altered. He wasn't contemptuous, but he did notice a lot of inefficiencies. He wasn't particularly nice about stating this either.

After some analysis, my father made a new schedule, allowing for training and studying but not much else.

I watched them from the other side of the dining room table. The other boy seemed to have an expression that said 'what have I just agreed to?'

I pitied him a bit. He had no clue what training would look like. I went up to him and gave him a shoulder pat, which I hoped was reassuring. He still seemed overwhelmed though.

"We'll start tomorrow. You don't have classes, so arrive by 7 a.m."

"Alright." Jacob nods. "I'll be there."

Satisfied with this answer, my father left the room. We were left to our own devices once more.

"Oh my God, what did I just get myself into?" Jacob half yelled, half-whispered. He stared at the floor in dread.

I winced. Seems he took it just as hard as I thought. "Well, torture, basically," I said, only half-joking.

"Ugh."

"But, you'll certainly grow from it. Sides, you'll be helped along the way. No way Father's going to give up on you." Jacob glanced up at me.

"But I'm going to suffer?"

"Yes."

He sighed and looked back down again. "I hope saving those people will make it all worth it."

I patted his shoulder again. "Jacob, in my experience... It's always worth it." That seemed to give him back a bit of his courage.

Later after Jacob left, I returned to my Father's office. This was the typical protocol after every visit. It allowed my Father to judge my conduct while he was there. He could tell me what he did and didn't approve of, as well as give instructions for next time.

"I'm pleased you were able to put your concerns aside to help me in recruiting him. He surprised you a bit at the end, with that question." Father stated rather than asked.

"He did. Still, he's not a member. Not really." I said.

"We'll get there in time, Electron. Regardless, you did well."

"Yes, Father."

"As you know, the mission will occur in only two weeks. This means we don't have much time to train him. Therefore, I've decided to train him only a select few skills so he can fulfill one specific role in the mission. You will also be trained in the same way. That way if he's unable to fulfill his objective for one reason or another, the mission can still proceed."

"Yes, Father." It was a necessary redundancy, as well as a very familiar tactic. Father didn't truly need me there on my first missions either. The truth was that while the overall goal was to free those mutants, the most important goal my Father had for Jacob was to convince him to join the Brotherhood. And even if Jacob did everything wrong, but ended up joining us, that would be more than enough.

"I'm also pleased that his first mission will be morally uncomplicated. There's nothing debatable about freeing innocents. It will be a good place to start from."

That also felt very familiar. I could only hope the result of his first mission wasn't the same as mine. Sometimes, I still saw the bodies in my dreams. I've forgotten many missions, but never ever the first.

So you're acknowledging that a morally complex mission might make him uninterested. I thought.

"It's hard to understand the necessity of what we do. At least at first." Father said.

I nodded at that comment. Father's always had a way of mixing my past experiences and current circumstances in order to convince me of the need to do any given action in the future and to convince me to listen to him in the present. He always made things feel so real and connected to my experiences. He knew me very well. It... what he said just grabbed me in some way. He had 100% of my attention.

"I agree, Father. I was like that too. Before…" I looked away from him for a moment to the ground, my voice trailing off, before realizing my mistake and returning my gaze to him.

"You were. Still, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't know better. No sane person would commit to joining us unless they had full knowledge of what humans were planning. You simply didn't know."

"Yes, Father." Even years later, my prior conduct made me burn with embarrassment and shame. I felt ashamed of my reluctance to join before and ashamed of the hard time I had given my Father. To think, I had attacked him once! The most important man in my life and I had attacked him! Just thinking about it made me feel eaten up inside.

"That's why this trip is far more important than anything I could tell him. First-hand knowledge and experience are far more valuable in recruiting."

Recruitment... I hate how it all goes back to that. What about truth and morality? What we do is morally right. Why not just focus on that?

I, of course, did not vocalize these thoughts.

It isn't a big deal. Jacob would be helping us if he joined. With his help, we could save so many more innocent people, I told myself. It didn't matter how we got to that point. I kept telling myself.

"It would help a lot if Jacob joined us," I said. "The skills of a telepath would be useful in many ways."

Father seemed pleased. "Indeed," he said, smiling.

The next day I woke up before my alarm went off and, feeling like I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, got dressed. I felt energized and alert, and before I knew it, I was ready to start the day. I looked at the clock as I brushed my teeth and had to do a double-take. There was still an hour left before training!

Not knowing what else to do, I found myself in front of my father's study. I knocked on the door tentatively.

"Come in," Father said. I opened the door and did just that. "Good morning," he said, looking surprised to see me up so early.

"So," I began, sitting down in a chair. "Now we just have to wait for Jacob."

"Indeed. Let's hope he's as punctual as you are early." Father smiled into his tea and turned the page of the newspaper he was reading. "Don't worry about him by the way. I won't be too hard on him. It is his first time, after all. I expect him to fail quite a bit. Speaking of, be supportive of him when that happens. I want to avoid any unnecessary frustration."

I nodded. "Of course, Father."

"We'll have breakfast after the first round of physical training and shift to other activities afterward. When those are done we can have lunch and focus on helping him with his powers. Finally, we'll close with more physical training."

I nodded. "Sounds logical." I stood up. "Well, I suppose I'll… go prepare?" It came out as more of a question, and Father raised one eyebrow at me. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Right. I'll go do that now. See you in an hour." I said and left.

I didn't know what to do to fill said hour, but my stomach chose that moment to growl so I went to the kitchen. I grabbed myself some juice and a banana as a light snack and made myself at home in the living room.

...

The minutes seemed to crawl by as slowly as they could. I sat down in front of my desk and grabbed some homework but soon found my mind wandering. I sighed and checked the clock. It was 6:24. Almost halfway.

By 6:59 I had done only three math problems, and even doing that was an achievement with how determined my brain seemed to be to think about everything except homework. My body felt restless, and I just hoped Jacob would arrive soon so we could get all of this over with.

I decided to return to my father's study. He greeted me wordlessly before going back to the paperwork covering his desk and gesturing for me to take a seat.

7:05...

He wasn't there.

I went to grab my phone, but Father looked at me. "Don't," he said.

So I didn't call. I also didn't question why I couldn't make the call. I just settled down again and tried to calm my nerves.

7:15…

Nothing.

7:20…

I just couldn't take the tension anymore. I got up and went to the living room, where the front door was. I heard a strange noise just as I sat down on the couch. Footsteps?

I see.

I got up and went to open the door. Just as I grabbed the handle, something slammed into the door so hard I felt it reverberate through the wood, followed by a whimper.

I opened the door. There he was, laying on the ground nursing a big bump on his head.

While I was annoyed by how late he was, I could also kind of relate to him running into the door. I completely understood his sense of urgency. No one wanted to be responsible for making my father wait.

I helped my groaning friend up.

"What time is it?" he asked, grimacing as he rubbed his head. "Did I make it?"

"Wait, you don't know?" I asked, surprised.

"Car-" he stopped, panting. "-broke down - had to go - run here." Another heave. He had my full sympathies.

"Where'd you put your car anyway?" I asked as we entered the hall.

"I had a company tow it for me. Getting a Ryde to pick me up would've taken forever. Even if it isn't even 8 a.m., it's still New York."

"You've made it?" I looked up, only to see Father enter the living room.

Oh no. This isn't going to be good.

Jacob laughed apologetically. "Sorry for the wait. My car died, so I had to run here."

Father smiled empathically. "Really? Well, I can't fault you for being late then."

Wait, what? Really? What's going on?

Father wouldn't care if I had such a problem myself. He would have told me that I ought to have gotten home earlier so I wouldn't have been rushing back in the first place.

Why is he being so nice? Right...

"Did you have anything to eat for breakfast?" The strange empathy didn't leave. He certainly wouldn't have allowed me to have breakfast after arriving late.

Jacob said, "I brought a sandwich and an apple."

The sandwich was half mashed up and the apple was so small, it looked malnourished. My father didn't seem impressed.

"We'll do physical training first, and then we'll break for an actual breakfast." Father glared at the pitiful excuse for a breakfast Jacob brought. "But until then, you can take a moment to get a light snack for yourselves."

Jacob said "Thanks," and was already moving towards the kitchen. Before I could go after him, Father stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"Electron."

"Yes, Father?" I asked.

"Make sure Jacob gets to the gymnasium in 30 minutes," he said.

I nodded. "Yes, Father." Getting lost in the building was pretty easy.

"Very good."

After that, he left. I looked up to find Jacob still standing in the doorway.

"Wow, he took that well," Jacob said.

"I know." I knew why but didn't dare to say anything. I remembered my last punishment. I couldn't make him doubt father. If he was going to find out, it would be on his own. My loyalties were set.

Besides, I once more reminded myself, I didn't have a say in the matter. Father would punish me again if I interfered in recruiting such an important prospect.

Jacob was hungry. Very, very hungry. He wanted to eat a lot more but I was able to haggle him down to a bite of fruit and some water, reminding him that training on a full stomach isn't fun.

"How does training normally go anyway?" he asked.

"It's quite… strenuous."

Jacob did not look pleased

"You'll be fine. My father knows you're new and will show you mercy."

"I hope so…"

Instead of taking the elevator, we took the stairs to the gym. It gave us plenty of time to talk and also warm-up.

We arrived 15 minutes early, and which was enough time for Jacob to get himself a water bottle and for me to grab my own supplies.

I turned to Jacob as he returned, cutting off my conversation with my father. "Very good, you're here. My father said," We'll start with a diagnostics test for you."

Father crossed his arms. "Indeed. We will first test how fast you can run 1.5 kilometers and in what time. You might know this as a 1-mile run. We will also assess your physical strength, ability to jump, and so on."

Jacob nodded.

Father's face was a touch... off. He would prefer a vocal acknowledgment from Jacob. Such as an 'understood' or 'of course' but he probably figured he would have to take what he could get.

Father now faced me. "Electron, while we are doing that, you can start on your physical exercise." In other words, drills.

"Yes, Father," I said, resigning myself to spending my morning doing boring things such as sit-ups, push-ups, and so on. However, it also meant I could closely monitor what Jacob and Father were doing.

First, came the run.

Jacob did his run in 7 minutes. Not bad. He was healthy. Nothing amazing, he wouldn't win any high school prizes in track and field, but it was respectable.

This type of performance continued in most aspects. Generally, he was a little bit above average. He was certainly not perfect, but he had a very good start. Honestly, he was probably more fit than myself when I started my training. My father really worked him to the bone though, every possible sort of diagnostic test was given to the guy. By the time a good dossier was built, Jacob was tired and sweaty.

I was too, but he was way worse off. Father hadn't given him any breaks in between tests. My pace felt almost leisurely by comparison, and this wasn't necessarily a good thing. If I failed to show that I could work out on my own, I would lose that privilege and be monitored every time I worked out. That would've been way too embarrassing for me. Luckily, my Father didn't notice.

Once I was done with my exercises, I found my friend on the floor, looking dead tired.

I crouched down. "Not bad for your first day. Now that we know your limits, we can push you past them."

Jacob let out a sound that was impossible to describe with words. "It's going to get worse!?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh yeah, it will. Father was going easy on you before."

Jacob rolled over, curling in on himself. "Oh, God... I'm going to die. Training for this mission is actually going to kill me."

"Nonsense. You'll just feel like you're dying. There's a difference!" I said.

"Ugh..."

I did like teasing him. Finally, I wouldn't suffer through training alone. We could both be miserable!

Father really was being rather nice with him, though. For example, he didn't glare at Jacob when he asked for water breaks. Nope. Instead, he just said, "not yet."

"You're a perfectly healthy young lad, Jacob." My father had returned.

Jacob nodded as I helped him up. Yes, the guy was that tired.

"You passed all preliminary examinations, and thus can train directly with Electron. Your physical abilities are a little bit worse than him in some categories, but that's nothing that you can't catch up on. All in all, you are certainly suitable for this."

The other boy nodded at this.

"It was also important to ensure you lacked any disorders that you didn't know about, but the sensors have not picked up a thing, which is in alignment with what was observed during testing."

"Well, I'd hope so," Jacob said, finally having his breath together.

"Change into your other clothes. We'll be leaving for breakfast in half an hour."

Jacob and I said "Understood" and "Yes, Father" at roughly the same time.

"Dismissed." He left, looking pleased that Jacob had finally dropped the casual responses. It was likely that he learned this from copying me.

Feeling sweaty and gross, we headed for the nearby showers to get changed.

Jacob, of course, started the conversation, "So… does your dad always act like that when you train?"

"That?" I asked, confused.

"Authoritative and stern."

"When he gives orders? Of course." I could barely hold down my laughter, though a slight grin betrayed my true thoughts. Jacob knew nothing about what an actual stern training session looked like.

Not his fault, of course. The average American family is generally liberal-minded in regards to things like showing respect and doing as you're told. But my father was not only my father, he was also my superior, so he was far stricter.

I was thinking all this while taking off my shirt. How did we get so used to changing together? one word: sleepovers. After a while, there is a point where you just don't care anymore. Apart from that, we were also just too tired to care. So tired that neither of us even bothered to pull the shower curtains for modesty's sake.

Both of us were decently toned. But because I wasn't given the gift of my puberty arriving at the typical age, I was so not ripped. I was very thin and toned, so whenever I wore a shirt I looked scrawny. Like, cafeteria ladies purposely fill your plate with more food scrawny. Or, get 'accidentally' bumped into and an on-campus male anorexia support group's business card somehow gets put into your pockets, skinny. Yes, that has happened to me. Twice!

Jacob, being luckier than me, did not have that issue. He wasn't a big person or anything. He was thin, but it was a more fashionable look, properly proportioned. Basically, imagine your typical teen male fashion model that isn't going for the manly lumberjack vibe. Soft, but sufficiently boyish.

Jacob started talking again, pulling me out of my thoughts. "You also seem to call Magneto 'Father' and never 'Dad' or 'Pops'. I've noticed before but… I figured asking then would've been a bit inconsiderate."

I mulled it over for a bit. "I do refer to him as Dad sometimes. When I'm on the phone and in public for example. But... it's never felt right to use it in front of him. Only in front of others."

"Still, Father is a strange term to use."

"I guess…"

"May I ask why you call him that... if you don't mind of course."

"Sure. He prefers the term 'Father'. Plus, it fits him. His personality, even for a parent. He can be pretty… bossy." I glanced around.

Even with the shower at a stupidly high temperature, I could still feel the tell-tale warmth in my cheeks that meant I was probably blushing. I would've never admitted to something like that out loud if Jacob hadn't been there. It was so easy to talk with him about stuff I wouldn't even say if I was alone in my room.

I sighed. "Man, imagine if my father heard me call him that. He'd laugh, sure. But then I have to run around the gym for ages!"

Jacob chuckled. "Don't worry. I won't tell. Besides, it's true. He is extremely bossy. I don't know how you handle it sometimes, Chris." I didn't have anything to say to that.

Minutes later and we had both changed into regular clothes. We decided to take the one staircase no one used, a claustrophobic, long stairwell lit only by the occasional fluorescent light. We did this every time Jacob came over. There weren't a lot of spaces in the house where we felt like we had any privacy, but the staircase was one of them.

"Are you afraid of him?" Jacob asked rather suddenly from where he was climbing the stairs in front of me. He didn't have to specify who he was talking about.

"No. Only of the punishments he dishes out. He cares a lot about me." I wanted to say more but decided not to go into specifics.

I didn't mention what type of punishments, as I was certain he wouldn't approve. Maybe he would've even made a scene. No, scratch that, he definitely would have.

The thing was, I didn't see things as he would have. I generally thought of it like this: I had screwed up and whatever father did to me was my punishment. If this meant being electrocuted or hit, that was just life. If I made a mistake there was supposed to be some kind of consequence. Anything else felt ridiculous. He was my father and my superior. It made sense that he could hit me.

Additionally, if Jacob knew, I was sure he would want me to leave. He didn't understand a thing. He didn't understand the gravity of my powers and what could happen if they were not controlled. Nor did he know about my father's importance in managing them. And I preferred not to tell him.