For a moment, the Legionnaires in the limo were shocked into silence by the butler’s statement. It was the top sergeant who found her voice first.
“What do you mean ‘unbalanced,’ Beeker? Are you saying the captain’s loony?”
“Oh, I don’t mean to say that he’s dangerously insane or anything,” the butler corrected hastily. “Perhaps I chose the wrong word in my efforts to keep my vocabulary simple. My employer is unbalanced only in the way that many successful businessmen and women are, in that he has a tendency toward the obsessive. It’s not a matter of judging how his work fits into his life. His work is his life, and he views everything else in the universe in relation to that. This company of the Legion is his current pet project, and all his energies and resources are focused on advancing and defending it. Frankly it’s my belief that you’re all quite fortunate to be at the right place at the right time to be a part of his efforts. My experience has been that he rarely, if ever, fails once he sets his mind on something.”
“Excuse me, Beeker,” Brandy drawled, “but I can’t help but notice you specifically said his current pet project. What happens to us if he gets distracted by some other shiny toy?”
“Oh, I doubt very much that would happen. He’s remarkably tenacious once he undertakes an endeavor. Unless, of course …”
Beeker let the sentence hang in the air.
“Unless what?”
“Well … your commander has near limitless energy and a drive that will sweep you along in its wake, even if you only choose to be passive to his plans and exercises. To discourage him-the only thing I can think of that might make him give up-would be active opposition from within the company on a massive scale. You Legionnaires would have to be adamant in your efforts to maintain your current images, individually and collectively.”