Read Caine's Law for Free Online Page B

absolute obligation is to those you love, yes? It’s well known. Mine is … well, my absolute obligation is to my duty.”
    He visibly gathers himself. Deep breath, set jaw, white lips. “I have been given a position of considerable power and advantage, bringing wealth and social opportunities beyond my most fanciful dreams. This position also includes certain unfortunate necessities. The fact that these necessities are unfortunate in no way affects my obligation to accomplish them to the best of my ability. To do my job well is worth my life. It’s the only thing that gives my life meaning, or even value. Does this make sense to you?”
    “You’d have made a pretty good Knight of Khryl.”
    “I know you don’t mean that as a compliment, but I take it as one.”
    He gives me a straight-on level stare, rigidly solemn, like he’s clenching to control an impulse to flinch. “I’ve never been a brave man. That hasn’t changed. Not much, anyway. Violence terrifies me. I’m afraid to be hurt. I’m afraid to die. Especially in ways you have hurt and killed other men.”
    “So okay, you’re right about not being stupid.”
    “The Board of Governors has full confidence in the Social Police—more perhaps than the Social Police have in themselves. They are confident that you are no longer a threat to anyone, much less me.” Again he sighs, and now he looks down. “They don’t know you like I do.”
    Ah, I get it now: he’s telling the truth. That’s the thing that’s off about him. Somebody gave him an integrity transplant.
    Huh again. “Careful, Gayle. Keep that shit up and I might decide I don’t hate you anymore.”
    “That’s … sort of what I’m hoping for.”
    “What, you’re worried I’ll think badly of you?”
    “I’m worried you’ll kill me.” He starts coughing and looks away, out the window somewhere until he pulls himself back together. “That’s why I wanted to talk this through before we go any further. Because you once told Professional Faller, ah,
I’m not gonna wreck you just for doing your job, man
 … mm, verbatim. I believe.”
    “Like that, is it?”
    “I have no authority to make any threat or offer any relief. I am here to fulfill the directives of the Board and the Leisure Congress. As soon as I discharge my duty here, I’ll go back to my office and do whatever is necessary to carry out the task I’ve been given.”
    “I told you, I get it. Look, Gayle, for what it’s worth, I really won’t kill you just for doing your job.”
    He catches his breath. “Thanks. Thank you, Hari. Even though I know you might find another reason. Or that there need not be a reason at all.”
    “I thought that was understood.”
    “Apparently it was.” His smile is weak and kind of blurry, but it seems real enough. “Professional? Go ahead, please.”
    Faller moves close to my bed and touches a control surface on the rim of the palmpad. The screen lights up with a page of standard-looking contract shit. “Like I said, the documents are in memory. The Board of Governors has directed us to summarize it for you, and confirm that there is no misunderstanding. The summary is, well—the Board of Governors have … um, their counteroffer is, basically … no.”
    “I worked that out for myself.”
    “You will not be given the title of Director of Overworld Operations. You are, as of this notice, stripped of the title and privileges of Administration, and downcasted to Labor. You will not receive amnesty or immunity from prosecution for any activity you have performed in the past or may perform in the future. You will not return to Overworld—er, Home. Ever.”
    “That’s a ballsy opener.”
    “The Board presented their resolution to the Leisure Congress. It was approved by acclamation.”
    “So much for my fan club.”
    “You closed Overworld,” he says apologetically. “Even your fans want you hurt.”
    “There’s more?”
    He nods. “Laborer Michaelson, you are