“You’re aberrated in one way,” he said to Will. “I’m aberrated in another. A schizoid (isn’t that what you are?) and, from the other side of the world, a paranoid. Both of us victims of the same twentieth-century plague. Not the Black Death, this time; the Gray Life. Were you ever interested in power?” he asked after a moment of silence. “Never.” Will shook his head emphatically. “One can’t have power without committing oneself.” “And for you the horror of being committed outweighs the pleasure of pushing other people around?” “By a factor of several thousand times.”
