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 The real challenge, of course, was the interface between the numbers and the
federals the translation, we call it. That s what we ve been running over and
over again, adjusting, changing and rewriting, for months, until we finally
got an overall program all three elements working together that allowed us not
only to recapitulate American history from 1863 until now, but to learn things
we didn t know ourselves.
 The price of wheat in Kansas. She seemed amused.
 The length of women s skirts in 1915. The number of people killed by the
Yellow Flu in
1946. It s like walking into a library of books you ve never been able to open
. . . until now.
 And what good is it?
 Well, once you ve got a working model, you can go back and change certain key
events or change things that happen to certain key people. Ulysses Grant fires
his cabinet in 1872 and doesn t get impeached. Jeremy King is only wounded in
1968, and the contract system is abolished. That sort of thing.
 I can t believe you can find one microscopic Abraham Lincoln.
 Oh, you can t. One lesson we re learning is that individuals are almost
completely irrelevant to history as individuals. I mean, yes, there are
so-called  Great Men, but they appear in our translation program . . . not in
the biological model. In fact, we ve worked up a pretty good profile of the
Key Individual, the Great Man, and found that at any given time, there are
dozens if not hundreds of them around . . . waiting for the confluence of
events that will allow them to fulfil their  destiny. Or whatever.
 I mean, in some of our models, poor old Abe Lincoln, who was really nothing
more than a victim of circumstances, forced into war because of the Secession
and killed just as it appeared he would win, lives long enough to emerge as a
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Great Man. In that same model, Longstreet serves as a general in a longer,
more drawn-out war and never emerges as the President who rebuilt the
Confederacy.
 Don t you find this sad?
 Why should I?
 To know that, at a certain level, nothing you do with your life really
matters . . . that you re only responding to these biological imperatives.
Taking advantage of what did you call it?
the confluence of events. She shuddered.  Charlie will hate this. With some
of the tension bled out of their conversation, Shelby apparently felt it was
safe to mention Holder.
 Don t kid yourself, Shel. Your Charlie will love this. What businessman
wouldn t want to know the future?
 You don t know him at all, Gene. He wants to believe that he can change the
future. In many ways, he s a lot like one of those Great Men. He has ideas,
big ideas. He wants the South to be more than it is. He thinks we ve become
rigid and calcified 
 He s right about that. But I never got the idea that he had just the
solutions to everyone s problems. Great.
 It s one of the reasons I love him, Gene.
 Do you really? Or do you, dear sister, just love the idea that you ve done
what you were raised to do: caught yourself a great man?
 I think I should leave. She stood up.
 I m glad you came. By the way  She was waiting at the door. There were tears
in her eyes, of sadness or defiance he didn t know. He pulled a small package
out of his desk. He d bought it weeks earlier, not knowing when or if he would
have the opportunity to deliver it.  It s a week late . . . Happy birthday.
Shelby took it, but she did not thank him.
The federal  world was located at D.C.D. s Decatur site in a little-used
warehouse off-limits to all but a few personnel  deep, dark government work
was the rumored reason. It worked so well that Gene grew to wonder just how
much deep, dark government work the company had done in the past.
Nevertheless, he controlled access . . . which was why, on his way into the
building the next day, he was so surprised to find Holder coming out.
The man was shameless. He shouldn t have been within miles of the place, but
all he had to say was,  Playing hooky from Emory, I see.
 Once a week, whether I need to or not, Gene said, as furious at himself for
showing his anger as he was at Holder.  How the hell did you get in there?
Holder smiled.  When I was going to law school I worked here one summer as a
security guard. Relax, Gene, as far as anyone at D.C.D. is concerned I m tied
up with a libel action in
Pine Mountain. No one is going to kick you out of your sandbox.
 Have you seen enough? Or would you like an official tour? He flashed his
badge at the guard, a man Holder s age whose name Gene didn t know, who would,
if Gene had his way, be working somewhere else at this time tomorrow.
 Love to. As they breached the innermost door, Holder said quietly,  Don t be
too hard on old Matthew  The guard.   I made it impossible for him to keep me
out. One gentleman to another. Holder had just made it impossible for Gene to
punish the guard.
The federals lived in what always struck Gene as the world s biggest ant
colony a glass-
roofed chamber the size of a rounders court, over which Stashower and his
colleagues hovered like angels on high, their cameras and telescopes trained
on heaven s floor.  Incredible, Holder said.  It s just incredible.
Holder seemed genuinely impressed, which pleased and disgusted Gene.  Well,
Charlie, there never would have been a link between Deconstruction and the
federals if not for you.
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To Gene s greater annoyance, Holder didn t deny it.  It was pure blind luck.
Did I tell you?
My first job at the firm was handling insurance forms for D.C.D. I amused
myself by reading some of the resumes and personnel files. That s how I
learned that you were the key man on
Deconstruction. Oblivious to Gene s growing outrage, Holder went on to
deliver the final blow:
 In fact, that s how I learned that you had a sister at Bradley.
By now Gene was so used to creating scenarios that they came to him unbidden.
He didn t like the one being created for him now . . . this Confederate
hustler using his past connections and purloined material to uncover people s
secrets . . . seeking Gene out in order to make him do his bidding . . . and
worst of all, cultivating his own sister in order to forge a connection
between them. What else did Holder know?
Holder nodded toward Stashower and the others.  Your boys seem to like looking
through the scopes.
 They ve convinced themselves the federals have  cities and  fields. I think
they just enjoy playing microcosmic god. Gene had looked once and only found
the action blurred to incomprehensibility. When he could look at all, that is.
In the accelerated life of a federal, one
 day lasted two seconds, and the constant flickering of the  sun gave Gene a
headache.  But, then, they re not the only ones.
Holder laughed out loud.  Come on, Gene. I m not that manipulative!
When Gene offered no comment, Holder lowered his voice and said,  Look, you re
gong to come out of this a happy man. When the hoys on thirty-four see what
you ve got here, they ll be on you like a duck on a June bug.
 Assuming they don t already know.
 So far I ve managed to refrain from enlightening them . . . much as I d love
to. This one belongs to Gene Tyler.
 How will I ever thank you?
Holder couldn t miss the sarcasm; he hesitated just long enough to let Gene
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