The criminal machine just didn’t have it—the gemeineschaft . They were rip-off artists, flotsam, and there was nothing to hold them together, no basic trust. They’d been hiding under the protective crust of the Singapore Government, and now that it was gone the Bank was wrecked. It would take them years to stick it all back together, even if they were willing to try, and the momentum, the world tide, was against them. This place and its dreams were over—the future was somewhere else.