“But if my article really means so little to you, why did you bother giving me the interview at all?”
“I told you at the beginning of our conversation. Curiosity. As one who has been branded as the archvillain of contemporary times, I was curious to meet and have a prolonged conversation with someone who believes in heroes and villains. That same curiosity prompts me to ask you one more question. During our talk, you have shown both distaste and sympathy for me. I ask you now, in your opinion, am I a villain?”
Erickson frowned.
“I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “While I still believe in evil, I’m no longer sure of its definition. Is evil inherent in the deed, or in the intent? If it’s in the deed, then you’re a villain. Too many bodies can be laid at your doorstep to be ignored. Of course, if that’s our sole unit of measure, then every honored general from mankind’s history must be burning in hell right now.”
“You are quite correct,” Tambu acknowledged. “I personally tend to judge myself on a basis of intent. By that measure, I feel no guilt over my career. I wonder how many people could make the same claim? Yourself, Mr. Erickson. During our interview, I’ve observed you waging war with yourself-the man versus the professional. You’ve been constantly struggling to impose ‘what you should say’ over ‘what you would like to say.’ In that, your dilemma is not unlike my own Eisner-Tambu difficulties.”
“You’re quite observant,” Erickson acknowledged, “but I’d like to think I’m not the only one with that problem. I’m sure a lot of reporters suffer the same dilemma.”