"But one banker is much like another, and I could afford to speculate. I gave you our money, and we did well. Good. But then...then I heard a whisper. I have friends, you see, in all sorts of places, and I heard a whisper from an investigator in the finance ministry. They were fascinated by you. You knew things were happening before they happened. They thought you must have sources, but so many? So diverse? How could you bring all those pieces together in one place, how could you make a single thing out of them and understand what would happen in the intersection of all those different currents? And when they looked into it, they couldn’t find anything. No meetings, no interactions of any kind, no statistically significant habits or correlations. He said to me: ‘That guy Kyriakos, with the shark: it’s made him a prophet!’ And then I knew. I had been too hasty. The god was with you after all. She was waiting for me, and I had been delinquent. Then I was too late. You had taken her gift and you made not change but chaos. You made money instead of revolution. You made money for men and women who have much of it, and for me? For me you made nothing. The absence of money. The absence of power, as I thought. I truly hated you in that moment. I hated myself. I had failed in everything I cared about."