Kup flipped the empty data chip through his fingers and deftly tucked it into subspace before closing his fist.

"Did you see where that went?" he asked.

The sparkling pointed to Kup's hand, looking somewhat unimpressed. Kup couldn't blame him. After all, the young mech had just woken up from a nap. In Kup's extensive experience with naps, they tended to make one a little surly.

"Sure about that?" Kup opened his empty fist, and the sparkling's optics widened.

He stared at Kup. "But… where did it go?"

"I don't know," Kup looked at his hand, pretending to be perplexed. "That's funny. It should be…" he looked around the room. "Ah, there it is, on top of your helm."

The mechling reached up to check, then shook his helm.

"Right here," Kup pulled the chip out of subspace and pretended to lift it off of the mechling's helm. "See?"

The sparkling took it from him, studied it for a moment, then narrowed his optics. "Who are you anyway?"

Kup snorted, but Petra didn't seem quite so amused.

"My goodness, Atlas. Let's be polite to our guest. Why don't you ask him nicely what his designation is?"

The sparkling backed away, looking suddenly shy. It was pretty funny, considering that the mechling was nearly as tall as Kup, and probably weighed more.

"He's all right," Kup said. "I'm Kup. And you're Atlas, huh?"

The sparkling nodded, still looking unsure of himself.

Kup shook his helm, looking at Petra. "You said he was big, but I didn't think… how do you even take care of him?"

"Well, he's very well behaved," Petra went over to put an arm around her sparkling's shoulder. He ducked out of the embrace and moved to stand behind her—not that she hid him from view very well—peering shyly around her at Kup.

"Can't pick him up, though, can you?"

"Oh, definitely not," Petra said. "But that's almost a good thing. Even if he was a normal-sized sparkling, I shouldn't be trying to lift him, or anything heavy. I have permanent spark damage from an illness when I was younger."

"Really?" Kup said.

Petra nodded. "Atlas knows he's got to be careful around me, right?" she shot a fond glance over her shoulder.

"Mhm," the sparkling said. "I can't be mean to you. And I can only climb on Landquake."

"That's right," Petra smiled, sounding as if she were trying not to laugh.

Kup heard the door open and turned to see the big transport enter with two other mechs.

"Landquake!" The sparkling rushed over, and Landquake picked him up and spun him around. Kup figured you could probably use that sparkling as a wrecking ball.

He approached the two mechs who'd accompanied the transport, trying to guess which one was the Prime.

It wasn't that difficult. The completely red mech stood tall like a guard, and had a warrior's wariness in his optics. The one with more blue on him gave off an air of studious naivete.

"Optimus Prime," Kup addressed the former librarian. "It's good to meet you,"

"Likewise," the mech said. "You are?"

Petra, who'd left the room as soon as her bonded had returned, came back with Yoketron and Prowl.

"Ah, good," Yoketron said. "You're here. Orion, this is Kup, a good friend of mine."

Kup nodded and stepped back.

"He…well, I suppose he can speak for himself."

"Yeah," Kup said. "I'd like to join your army. I've been in a few before, so I know a bit about how they work. That doesn't mean you should put me in charge of anything, though I can advise if you need it. And I've had lots of experience training new recruits in the past, so if that's something you need..."

Optimus nodded. "All of our soldiers are new recruits. We'd be very grateful if you'd help train them."

"Thought so," Kup said.

Another war. Training new recruits, sending them off to die, watching their frames pile up in the scrapyards.

But someone had to do it. He'd seen firsthand that Megatron was bad news and needed to be stopped.

"I can talk to him about signing up," the other mech—the guard—said.

"Thank you, Ironhide," Optimus said, and crossed the room to join Yoketron and Prowl. The three of them left the room.

"So," Kup crossed his arms. "I hear you got a lot of mecha from factories?"

"Yeah. A bunch of the refugees from Tarn are joining up too," Ironhide said. "We're in a little over our helms, if you must know. We don't have nearly enough experienced mecha. A bunch of the Elite Guard are volunteering part time, but we only have a few full-time trainers."

"Huh," Kup said. "Well, the sooner I'm signed up, the sooner I can get to work."

Ironhide hesitated.

"I think the Prime will be fine," Landquake said. "I've said it before…"

"I know, I know," Ironhide said. "Yoketron won't let anything happen to him. It's the principle, though… all right, Kup was it? I'll take you to the barracks, and show you what we're working with."

Kup nodded, and followed him out of the apartment.

It had been a long orn, in part because the orn had started long before the sun dome had even turned on. Elita thought if mecha really understood how exhausted she was, they'd stop comming her and messaging her.

She'd spent all orn dealing with mecha complaining. Complaining about the Autobot commandeering of the groundbridge stations, complaining about all the refugees. They didn't seem to understand that there had been no other viable options. They had tried to negotiate with the stations.

She pushed her datapad away and put her helm down on the desk. She wanted Orion to come back from training already—he'd been gone for joors now, and she was almost worried. He was gone longer and longer every orn, it seemed. She didn't know what he was training for exactly, but she knew it was frustrating and that he wasn't making as much progress as he wanted to.

She wished she could help him somehow—especially because that might mean she could spend more time with him.

She tried not to dwell on it, but she couldn't help missing the bond. Even though they'd been busy before, she'd always been able to feel him there. Even when they were apart, they'd been together.

She pushed herself up from the desk. She had to get through the rest of the orn. She had to get through a few hundred more messages and comm. calls. Then she could rest—maybe even take part of the next orn off.

Chromia commed her, and she answered quickly. "Hey Chromia, do you need something? I'm really busy."

"I know," Chromia said. "But I need your diplomacy skills. There's this really annoying trine of seekers who flew up here and they're demanding to talk to Optimus. Can you come get rid of them? Red Alert's throwing a fit, but I don't think it's helping."

Elita sighed. "I can try."

It would be nice to get up from her desk for a few breems anyway. She scooted her chair back and stood, stretching. Primus, she was exhausted. Maybe after she dealt with the seekers, she could let Moonracer talk her into taking a break.

Orion un-shuttered his optics to sunlight. Frustration welled up inside him and he gritted his denta and clenched his fists. He wanted to throw something.

"Orion?" Yoketron asked.

"I'm never going to get this," he said. "I got so far! I got so far and then something offlined me and I had to start over. I didn't even see what it was this time."

Yoketron didn't say anything.

"And then I had to go all the way back to the beginning." He buried his faceplate in his hands. "I'm not moving fast enough. The war is starting already and I should be on the second, maybe the third trial by now…"

"Orion."

"Just let me try again."

"You've tried twice already. I can't keep you longer."

"Let me try again."

"And you are too frustrated right now to think clearly."

Orion shuttered his optics.

"Vent deeply. Focus on your spark," Yoketron said. "You may try again if you would like. But your friends will wonder what's taking you so long."

Orion tried to vent deeply. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to that horrible dark maze. Especially with some of the things that threatened him later on in it. The things trying to offline him were more and more familiar the farther he went. Sometimes it was even his friends waiting around the corners to jump out and kill him. Anything and everything he'd ever been afraid of.

"All right," Orion said. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" Yoketron asked.

Orion nodded, then shuttered his optics.

When he opened them, the world was gray and dull and colorless. He stood up, braced himself, and walked into the maze.

The scraplets swarmed up ahead, filling the hallway. Orion sprinted toward them, pretending the hallway was empty until he almost believed it was.

The scraplets disappeared. He kept jogging. A faceless swordsmech jumped out at him, but he had been ready and wasn't startled. He kept going, walking through the mech, who disappeared.

Orion kept going. Things jumped out at him or loomed up ahead. Glaring red optics around every corner. All of it fake. All of it was fake. The only real thing was the maze itself.

It was harder sometimes, to tell himself his friends weren't real, as they attacked him. But he reminded himself that this wasn't really them. When he'd gotten through it he could go back to the sunlit crystal garden.

Something hit the side of his helm and he fell to his knees.

"You're such a failure," Master Yoketron's voice said. "You're still on this trial. You should have passed it by now."

Not real. Not real. Orion got to his pedes and walked toward his circuit-su teacher.

"Alpha Trion is not pleased with your progress."

He wasn't real.

"You'll never receive the Matrix at this rate."

Orion shuttered his optics and sprinted forward, directly through the other mech. Yoketron disappeared. But the pounding in his helm didn't. And he could feel energon dripping down his neck

No matter. He could keep going. He had to get through. He kept jogging—past obstacles, around corners, through more swarms of scraplets and various other things. He hit dead ends too. Those had started to be more frustrating than the things trying to offline him. He started to get desperate. He was going to make it, but only if he found the way out of the maze.

And then the maze disappeared and Orion un-shuttered his optics.

He stared at the garden wall, numb.

"Orion?" Yoketron asked.

"Nothing offlined me… I just…" A wave of disappointment hit him and he shuttered his optics again. Frustration and defeat coursed through him, dampening his spark.

He had wandered the maze for an entire joor without finding the exit.

"What?"

"I couldn't find a way out," Orin said. "I didn't even get offlined a single time and I still couldn't get through the maze."

Yoketron seemed troubled but didn't say anything.

"Again," Orion said.

"No. They'll be very worried about you by now."

"I just need to go faster."

"Don't push yourself too hard. You can come back and try again next orn."

Orion got to his pedes, feeling dejected.

"You'll get there," Yoketron said.

Orion nodded, trying to believe it.

Ironhide and Landquake were waiting for him out in the front room.

"Ready?" the transport asked.

Orion nodded, and followed them out of the building.

They sat in the transport in silence for almost half of the drive back to the tower.

"Sorry I took so long," Orion said.

"Eh," Ironhide said. "I didn't even stay there the whole time."

"I'm certain it's safe for me to go to training on my own," Orion said. "You don't need to waste time while I'm working with Master Yoketron."

Ironhide frowned. "I guess…" he said. "I mean, now that I'm pretty sure that we can trust Landquake."

"Pretty sure?" Landquake said. "Ouch."

"You know what I mean," Ironhide said. "But I… I'll think about it. Oh, Chromia commed me and said there's some mecha who want to talk to you."

"About the groundbridge stations? I'm certain there are a lot of mecha who still want to talk to me about that."

Had it really only been half an orn since the attack on Tarn?

He'd been so certain in the moment that rejecting the Council's offer had been the right thing to do. But now he felt like he'd just made an enormous mess.

At least they'd gotten the refugees out of Tarn.

"I don't think it's that," Ironhide said. "Chromia said something about seekers. Apparently Red Alert's having a fit because they came in through that balcony, and someone had left the door open, and they say they won't go away until they talk to you."

Seekers? Orion hadn't made much of an effort to start up communications with Vos, knowing the seekers were more aloof, and not likely to want to take a side or even interact with either side. "Do we have seekers in our army?"

"A handful," Ironhide said. "I think. It could be some of them. Or it could be representatives from Vos. I don't know."

Well, Orion would have to talk to them when he got back to base. He sighed.

"You all right?"

"Yes," Orion looked at him. He felt physically and emotionally drained. He needed recharge and some way to get past the trial. Next time he should run the whole way and try to remember where all the dead ends were.

"It's been a long orn," Ironhide said.

Orion nodded. "Can you believe…"

"That you stood up to the Council, used our army to attack a couple of private businesses, and saved about fifteen thousand refugees all since coming out of recharge?" Ironhide finished for him.

Orion shuttered his optics. He'd also been stabbed, paralyzed, decapitated, and eaten by scraplets a few times. But that was a normal. every-orn part of training.

"Hey," Ironhide said. "You know, you're doing great, mech. I was worried after Megatron took our following and they made you a Prime… I'll admit I wasn't so sure you could handle it. But you proved me wrong, and I want you to know that from now on I'll back you all the way."

"Thank you."

They got back to Mirage's tower and went up in the elevator.

As usual, as soon as the elevator doors opened, mecha crowded around him to welcome him back, ask questions, and give him reports. He tried to acknowledge everyone without getting drawn into any conversations.

At the door of his office, Prowl was waiting for him.

"I have a list."

"Of course you do," Orion said, feeling resigned. "Weren't there some seekers that wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes," Prowl said. "I don't think that's very high on the priorities, but…"

"Are they members of our army?"

"Yes,"

"Can you send them to my office?"

Prowl nodded and held out a datapad. Orion took it and went to his desk to sit down and read through the list of things Prowl wanted him to do.

He had barely made it to the end of the list when his office door opened, and three seekers came in—one purple, one blue, and one gray and red.

"Good orn," Orion said. "Uh…" there were only two chairs besides his own in the room. He got up. "Would you like to sit down… or, you're seekers. Would you be more comfortable on the balcony?"

They looked at each other.

"Well, he's a lot more considerate," the purple one said.

"We could go out on the balcony," the gray and red mech added. "But only if it's a secure location. We wouldn't want anyone to…" he paused dramatically. "…hear our conversation."

Orion blinked. "Well, it ought to be fine," he said. "Come on."

Red Alert commed him as he exited his office, and he answered but didn't say anything.

"Optimus, don't go outside with them," Red Alert said. "We can't trust them! They could be assassins."

Orion looked at the seekers. If they'd wanted to hurt him, they could have attacked him in his office. Besides, they were members of the army. Orion still wanted to get to know more of his soldiers.

Ironhide followed them down the hall, all the way to the balcony door.

"I'm going to talk to them outside," Orion said. "Stay here, all right?"

Ironhide looked like he wanted to protest, but then just crossed his arms. "Fine."

Orion led the way out onto the balcony, with the seekers following.

The sky was its usual dusk color, but from the high towers, you could actually see part of the sun as it skimmed around the horizon.

"It is good to meet you," Orion said. "What are your designations?"

"I am Starscream," the gray seeker said. "And this is my trine. We've been looking forward to meeting with you."

"You said you have something to tell me."

"I have a few suggestions," Starscream said. "And I'm willing to help you. I have a lot of weight to throw around in Vos, as I was a member of their elite armada before I joined your army."

The dark blue seeker standing just to the left of Starscream raised an optic ridge.

That didn't seem like a good sign. "All right…"

"And therefore…" Starscream said. "I might be able to pull some strings and get the seekers on your side." He grinned. "And I might even be able to help you recruit elsewhere. It's all about what other mecha think of you. For example, the whole groundbridge station thing earlier this orn is a PR disaster. But with my help you can avoid that sort of thing in the future."

Orion frowned. "I'm not sure if I follow."

"Let me give you an example. Let's say, in a couple of orns, the world finds out Megatron has been in league with the Council all along. Under those circumstances, both sides of the equation will come flocking to your army."

What?

"I can make it happen," Starscream said. "I have quite a talent for spreading around the right kind of information."

Oh. Orion looked down. There was no question what his answer would be. He would not stoop so low as to spread false rumors about Megatron.

"Of course," Starscream said. "My help isn't entirely free. I would expect, at the very least, to be appointed to some position of power in your army. I hear your second in command spot happens to be vacant at the moment."

Orion stared at him. Was this mech serious? He looked at the other two. The blue one wouldn't look at him. The purple one was making faces at the door where Ironhide and several other mecha were watching.

"Well…?"

"I apologize," Orion said. "That is not the way we do things. Megatron's actions will speak for themselves. There is no need to spread lies about him."

"They wouldn't be lies, exactly—"

"No," Orion said firmly. "I'm sorry, but it is not negotiable."

Starscream scowled. "Fine," he said. "But you'll regret not accepting my help. In fact… you'll make a fine present for Megatron. Grab him and let's go!"

The purple mech darted toward Orion and so did Starscream. Orion ducked instinctively out of the way, backing toward the building.

The balcony door slammed open and Ironhide rushed out. "Get off!" The guard powered up his cannons, and the seekers transformed and flew away.

Orion shuttered his optics, venting a sigh of relief.

Ironhide grabbed him and dragged him back inside. "What was that?

"I don't know," Orion said. "They wanted…"

"I thought you had some reason for wanting to talk to them alone!" Ironhide growled.

Orion looked out the window, spark pulsing irregularly. That had all happened very quickly. He was surprised he'd been able to dodge out of the way. Then again, he'd had a lot of dodging practice recently.

"If they'd thrown you off the balcony, you could be offline. Or they could have carried you halfway out of the city by now! Orion! Are you listening?"

Orion shook his helm. "Yes." He looked at Ironhide. "You don't have to yell at me." He pushed past his bodyguard and headed to his office.

Red Alert met him on the way. "What were you thinking?" he demanded. "I told you not to do that! No one ever listens to me! Are you really so stupid?"

"I apologize," Orion said through gritted denta. "I won't do it again. I just didn't think…"

"Of course you didn't!" Red Alert said.

Orion's processor buzzed with overwhelming frustration. "Well, I'm all right. I'm fine."

"We almost lost you!" Ironhide said. "That doesn't sound fine to me."

"I don't have time for this argument right now!" Orion said. "I have things to do." He turned and walked down the hall. Ironhide followed him, but didn't say anything as Orion got to his office and went in. He shut the door behind himself and was finally alone.

He sat down behind his desk and put his helm down on it. If he'd had an orn like this before, when he'd been a librarian, he might have just found a good datapad to read and gone home.

But now he couldn't. There was just too much to do and not nearly enough time to get it all done.

He still shouldn't have lost his temper. He'd never had a problem with that before he'd started running an army, but that was no excuse. He shuttered his optics, took in a deep vent, and got out the datapad Prowl had given him with the list of things to do. At least he hadn't been tempted to make an agreement with that seeker. That would be crossing a line.

Part of him worried that the mech would go and try the same thing with Megatron, but he doubted Megatron would take him up on something like that. If nothing else, the former gladiator was generally honest.

The door slid open.

I looked up from my computer console and stretched out my range as soon as I saw who it was.

Megatron narrowed his optics and glared at the mech who'd just walked in.

"Hey," Jazz said. "I'm back. How'd the whole Tarn thing go last orn?" I wonder if he's upset about the evacuation…

"Not as well as it could have gone," Megatron growled. "The Autobots knew about the attack and they were evacuating mecha for a whole decaorn beforehand."

Jazz blinked. "What? I mean, I heard they got a couple thousand out while you were attacking, but…" How could the Autobots have known? He looked at me.

He was honestly confused.

Talking about the leaked information should have exposed him for sure.

Well? Megatron wondered.

"It might not be him," I said over an internal comm. "He seems surprised."

"That probably merits some looking into." Jazz frowned. Or not. It's not like Megatron's living up to his promises. Kaon is a chaotic mess, and Tarn is probably almost as bad now. I wonder if Soundwave's working against Megatron… "In any case, I came ta report. I did manage ta find Wheeljack, but he wasn't interested in joining us, not unless I could tell him right then where the Institute is." Which I can't unless Soundwave's found it already.

"Hmm…" Megatron said. "We're still looking for that. Any other ideas?" You have to be picking up something from him. If he's not the traitor, then who is?

Jazz shrugged. I don't know who else might be helpful. No good mech's gonna join with Megatron… Then why am I… no… and then there was a moment of hesitation before he changed his thought process. "I do know some pretty skilled mecha in Polyhex, but I doubt ya want their help. They'd stab ya in the back soon as they could."

"Hmm…" Megatron said. "Get in contact with them for me."

"I don't know if I can contact them remotely. And they'll probably offline me if I show up." Maybe I should say more. I don't think bringing Quantum into this is a good idea at all. Why did I suggest it, frag it?

"Then give us their designations and Soundwave will contact them. Why are you making so many excuses?" He's not acting entirely innocent… and yet you say he's not the traitor, Soundwave?

I wasn't sure. Something wasn't quite right about his thoughts.

"Just stating the facts," Jazz shrugged.

"Maybe you don't want my army to have a strong leadership."

"They just might not be that much help," Jazz said. "They've got this organized crime thing going, and even if they team up with ya they'll be doing it for their own benefit, not because they believe in your cause."

"That's fine." Megatron said. "I'll be prepared if and when they try to betray me."

Why is he looking at me like that? He doesn't trust me, does he? But Soundwave, ya know I'm loyal, right? Jazz looked down. "I'll… give Soundwave their designations and let him track them down then."

"Good," Megatron said. "In the meantime, I'd like you to figure out who leaked the information about the attack."

Jazz looked at me again.

"I believe that's your area of expertise," Megatron continued. "Don't worry—If you can't figure it out, then we'll just assume it's Soundwave."

If it is you, 'Wave, Jazz thought. Come talk to me about it. I'm starting ta have second thoughts… then again, there's that… no, think about something else.

"Jazz?"

"Sure," Jazz said. "I'll look inta it… I got a question, by the way."

He was trying to hide something from me.

"What?" Megatron demanded.

"Ya probably won't like it, but I have ta ask it."

"Go on."

"Ya did all of this ta free the slaves in the mines, right? That was the point, or at least the starting point."

"Yes," Megatron said.

"Okay. On my way through base, I ran into Demolishor and he says we've got more mecha in the mines now. Are they getting paid?"

"Some of them are," Megatron said.

Yeah, Jazz thought, Just not the prisoners they took from Tarn. "Doesn't that kinda defeat the purpose?"

"There's a difference," Megatron said, settling back into his seat. "You see, when I was in the mines, I had no freedom whatsoever, but those there now had a choice. Freedom or slavery. They chose slavery. I'm not going to take the right to choose away from them. They can still change their minds if they want to be soldiers instead."

Jazz looked at Megatron, feeling a mixture of regret, disappointment, and anger. That's what I thought. Primus, what am I doing here? "Okay," he said.

"Anything else?" Megatron asked.

Jazz shook his helm.

"Then get out."

The short, black and white mech left Megatron's throne room. I extended my range to follow him out into the hallway.

I think I'd better read that file. This ain't right. I have to know why I'm here.

What file?

So, Megatron thought. Is it him or isn't it?

"Uncertain," I said, losing focus slightly as I had to stretch farther and farther to hear him.

What do you mean uncertain? He glared at me.

"He's hiding something," I explained, and got up from my console. "Give me more time."

Megatron sighed. Very well. One more orn.

I left the throne room. Jazz would be careful, always watching. I knew he was hacked into my security system, but if I pretended to go to my office, which was far enough away from his for him to feel safe, he might give me some more hints. He didn't really know how far I could stretch my range or for how long. I could push myself further now that I could pull my range back and recover afterward.

I kept listening to him as I walked the rest of the way to my office.

"Soundwave!" Frenzy said and jumped off the desk to come hug my leg. "Soundwave, Rumble called me stupid."

I looked at Rumble, who was sitting on the desk with his arms crossed, pouting. Ravage hopped down off of my shoulder and went to curl up on my berth.

"Frenzy poked me in the optic." Rumble said. "Clumsy idiot."

"What were you doing?" I asked, as the beginning of a processor ache started in my helm.

"Practicing fighting!" Frenzy said. "In case we have to fight Autobots."

That was troubling for multiple reasons. "Well, do-on't offline each other. And be quiet for a few breems. I have to concentrate." I sat at my desk and focused on Jazz's thoughts. Sure enough, he was looking for me on the cameras. He saw me sitting in my office. I unsubspaced a datapad and started pretending to read a report. Relieved, he watched me on the screen of his computer console for a moment. I was grateful that he couldn't tell from my expression that I wasn't paying attention to what was on the datapad.

Jazz sighed and opened a drawer. He pulled a datapad out from the back of it and turned it on. A message popped up on it, telling him that if he questioned his loyalty, he should hack into the datapad to find out why he'd joined the Decepticons. I watched as he did so, helm pounding, wishing he'd hurry up. It was heavily encrypted and even listening to the process he used to break in, I wasn't sure I understood what he was doing.

A second message appeared on the screen.

[Congratulations!

You are the smartest mech in the whole fragging world. You've just won a ten billion credit prize for hacking this datapad, which can be collected the orn you finally decide to stop paying attention to random notes you leave yourself.]

What?

Jazz stared at the text, incredulous.

That can't be it. Why the frag would I prank myself like that? I thought there was a real reason…

The text changed into a different, longer message.

It was a letter, written by Jazz to himself explaining why he was loyal to Megatron—or why he wasn't. I leaned back, a little shocked. He'd been deleting information from his own processor to keep himself from remembering that he was a double agent. The only thing he usually left was an idea that if he questioned his loyalty, there was a file he could read. He also left the sense that he should hide the existence of the file from me.

Extreme measures, and very unsafe. But it had gotten him this far, and he'd intended to go as far as he could, gathering and transmitting as much information as he could to Iacon, and Orion.

I was almost shaking with the pain of extending my range so far, and for so long, but I held out in fascination as Jazz finished reading the document. When he was done, he reset the datapad and shoved it into the back of the drawer.

He thought for a breem, and sent a quick note to Iacon with some information, bypassing all my communications blocks, and then marked a few files in his processor and deleted them.

It left him feeling shaky and a little disoriented, but determined to keep going and not let me find out… whatever it was that he knew he'd just permanently forgotten.

I pulled my range back in and looked at the screen of my datapad.

He was the traitor. And if I got that datapad, I would have proof. Megatron would have Jazz offlined.

I didn't want to admit how much that troubled me.