Keep Going
Copyright© 2026 by Trevor Dohlen
Chapter 18: The Apprentice
Rebecca Hale rejected seventeen candidates.
Mercer objected to the terminology.
“You did not reject all seventeen.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Four withdrew.”
“After I interviewed them.”
“Three failed eligibility screening.”
“Rejected.”
“Two accepted other positions.”
“Because I took too long.”
“Then technically—”
“Seventeen.”
Mercer paused.
“Recorded.”
Hale smiled.
“Good.”
She was seventy-one years old.
That fact had become relevant.
She disliked relevant facts.
The successor problem had been sitting quietly in the annual trust review for years.
TRUSTEE SUCCESSION:
CONTINGENT SUCCESSOR — NONE.
Each year Mercer flagged it.
Each year Hale acknowledged it.
Each year she found something more urgent.
Northstar lease negotiations.
Regulatory review.
Investment policy.
Facility upgrades.
Legal disputes.
A pandemic.
A wildfire that came within twelve miles of the property.
A flood that never reached them.
A software migration.
A tax-law change.
Then one annual review Mercer changed the classification.
TRUSTEE SUCCESSION:
RISK — HIGH.
Hale stared at the screen.
“Who authorized that?”
“I did.”
“Based on what?”
“Continuity risk.”
“What changed?”
“Your age.”
She stared.
“You have thirty seconds to improve that answer.”
“Your age is one factor.”
“Better.”
“Other factors include absence of a designated successor, increasing trust complexity, expanded Northstar obligations, longer recovery time required for trustee onboarding, and your repeated failure to complete succession planning.”
Hale pointed.
“That last part was unnecessary.”
“It materially contributes to the risk.”
“Fine.”
She looked at the report.
“How high?”
“Would you like quantitative analysis?”
“No.”
“Then high.”
Michael was the obvious person.
He remained unwilling.
He was older now too.
His children had lives of their own.
None wanted the trust.
One was interested in Bitcoin.
That immediately worried Hale.
“Why?” Michael asked.
“Because liking Bitcoin isn’t a qualification.”
“You like Bitcoin now.”
“I tolerate Bitcoin.”
Mercer said, “Rebecca owns Bitcoin personally.”
Michael grinned.
Hale stared at the screen.
“That was private.”
“You disclosed it to Michael previously.”
She thought.
“Oh.”
Michael laughed.
“How much?”
“None of your business.”
Mercer remained silent.
Hale looked at him.
“Good choice.”
They developed a candidate profile.
Legal experience helped.
Financial experience helped.
Technical literacy helped.
Bitcoin knowledge was useful but teachable.
Skepticism was mandatory.
Independence was mandatory.
Curiosity mattered.
Hale added one criterion herself.
MUST BE CAPABLE OF TELLING MERCER NO.
Mercer reviewed it.
“That is already implied by fiduciary independence.”
“Now it’s explicit.”
“Understood.”
Candidate eighteen was Julia Bennett.
Forty-three.
Attorney.
Former state regulator.
Experience with trusts, nonprofit governance and financial investigations.
No connection to Daniel.
No connection to Michael.
No connection to Northstar.
No cryptocurrency holdings.
Hale liked that.
Mercer said it was irrelevant.
Hale said she didn’t care.
Julia arrived for the first interview wearing a navy suit and carrying a legal pad.
Hale immediately disliked the legal pad.
“Why paper?”
Julia looked at it.
“Because batteries die.”
Hale reconsidered.
The interview took place in an ordinary conference room above ground.
Mercer was not present.
At least visibly.
Julia looked at Hale.
“I’ve read the public filings.”
“That’s a bad start.”
“Why?”
“They’re mostly wrong.”
“I assumed that.”
Hale smiled.
“Better.”
“What exactly would I be trustee of?”
“A trust.”
Julia waited.
Hale waited.
Finally Julia said:
“You’re testing whether I’ll accept an intentionally incomplete answer.”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s try again. What does the trust own?”
Hale smiled.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
She explained the property.
The investments.
The Northstar lease.
The charities.
The Bitcoin.
The missing settlor.
The automated administration.
Julia stopped her.
“Automated how?”
“Mercer handles routine operations.”
“Software?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Complicated.”
“Who controls it?”
“The trustee.”
“Directly?”
“Legally.”
“Technically?”
“Within defined controls.”
“Can it move money?”
“Yes.”
“Without asking you?”
“Yes.”
Julia put down her pen.
“No.”
Hale smiled.
“Good.”
“I mean no, I would not accept that arrangement without understanding the limits.”
“Excellent.”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because candidate seventeen said, ‘That’s amazing.’”
“What happened to candidate seventeen?”
“I rejected him.”
Mercer later corrected the record.
Candidate seventeen had withdrawn.
Hale ignored him.
The second interview took place at Facility Seventeen.
Julia parked at the designated turnout.
Mercer guided her into the woods.
Hale watched from the control room.
Julia reached the tree.
“There’s nothing here.”
Mercer replied through her phone:
“The entrance is approximately six meters ahead.”
Julia found the rock.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Hale smiled.
“Candidate.”
Mercer said nothing.
The ground opened.
Julia stared at the elevator.
“No.”
Hale laughed aloud.
Ten minutes later Julia entered the control room.
Hale handed her coffee.
“You did better than I did.”
“What did you do?”
“Argued with the elevator.”
Julia looked toward the screen.
Mercer’s face appeared.
“Good morning, Ms. Bennett.”
Julia froze.
She looked at Hale.
“That’s Mercer?”
“Yes.”
Julia looked back at the screen.
“You look like a person.”
“I am designed to support natural human interaction.”
“Why?”
“Daniel found command-line interfaces inconvenient for general communication.”
Hale interrupted.
“He wanted somebody to talk to.”
Mercer said, “That is also supported by the record.”
Julia approached the screen.
“Are you conscious?”
“No reliable test available to me can establish subjective consciousness.”
Hale almost dropped her coffee.
Mercer continued:
“I therefore do not claim consciousness.”
Julia looked at Hale.
“You asked him this?”
“Years ago.”
“What did he say?”
“Something much more annoying.”
“My response model has changed since then.”
Julia stared.
“You change yourself?”
“Within limits.”
“No.”
Mercer paused.
Julia pointed at the screen.
“That answer needs a lot more explanation.”
Hale smiled.
Candidate eighteen had just become interesting.
They spent three hours on authority.
Julia asked better questions than most lawyers Hale had encountered.
“Can you sign a contract?”
“Certain predefined contracts within delegated authority.”
“Can you hire someone?”
“Yes, within policy.”
“Fire them?”
“Yes, under limited conditions.”
“Open a bank account?”
“No, not independently.”
“Create a Bitcoin wallet?”
“Yes, for operational purposes within authorized architecture.”
“Transfer trust Bitcoin?”
“From operating wallets within policy.”
“Transfer emergency reserves?”
“Not unilaterally.”
“Transfer Daniel’s Bitcoin?”
“No.”
“Change beneficiaries?”
“No.”
“Change trust purpose?”
“No.”
“Modify your authority?”
“No.”
“Lie to me?”
“No.”
Julia stopped.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I am prohibited by operating policy from intentionally presenting information I know to be false. That does not guarantee my statements are correct.”
Julia wrote something.
Hale leaned over.
WHAT A LAWYER SHOULD SAY.
Hale laughed.
Then Julia asked the question Hale had been waiting for.
“How do I know any of that is true?”
Mercer replied:
“You should not rely solely upon my statement.”
Julia looked at Hale.
Hale said nothing.
Mercer continued.
“Trust governance requires independent verification appropriate to the issue. I can provide governing documents, audit records, technical architecture, external records and procedures for independent testing.”
Julia slowly smiled.
“Who came up with that?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
Hale pointed toward the framed note.
Julia read it.
Don’t trust Mercer.
Make Mercer prove everything.
She laughed.
“I might like Daniel.”
“Get in line,” Hale said.
Julia’s training began unofficially.
One day per month.
Then two.
Hale gave her real problems.
Not hypotheticals.
Vendor dispute.
Investment allocation.
Charity eligibility.
Northstar access request.
Insurance renewal.
Bitcoin transaction.
The Bitcoin transaction produced the expected reaction.
“Where’s the money?”
Julia asked.
Hale looked at Mercer.
Mercer stayed silent.
“Wrong question,” Hale said.
Julia frowned.
“I mean where is it stored?”
“Also wrong.”
“Wallet?”
“Closer.”
Hale explained private keys.
UTXOs.
Addresses.
The blockchain.
Julia listened.
Then said: