72

A WIZARD IN ABSENTIA

“There’s some point in that—but Father has never shown any interest in participating in my work.” Beneath his words, Magnus caught vivid, fleeting images of loud and angry arguments, of a father’s chilly silence at what he perceived as his son’s abandon-ment and rejection.

“Have you ever asked?” Magnus said quietly.

“He has not,” Matilda said, while Roger was still opening his mouth. “I confess that the idea is attractive—but such experiments would require your physical presence now and again, Roger.”

Alarm flared, and Magnus was quickly calming it with the revelation that three months would never be time for entangling relationships to form again. “I assume that if d’Armand Automatons were to use your discoveries, you would expect some form of royalties.”

“Of course!”

“But you receive shares in the family business already, Roger,” Matilda reminded him. “Your stock in the company has never been alienated.”

Roger turned frosty. “I have never used the pro-ceeds from that stock, Matilda, not since I came to Terra and used some of the dividends to establish myself. They have sat and grown, increasing in number and value.”

“Yes, I know—I do look at the books occasionally,” Matilda returned tartly.

“It would seem to me,” Magnus murmured, “that if you accept the family’s share, you have some responsibility toward them.” This time, the surge of guilt the professor felt was purely Magnus’s doing.