All it took was an idea in the night, and he was able to breathe more deeply than he had in a long long while. Like being released from a spell: the fog over his brain dissolved and he relaxed in the cool clean rinse of clarity. It was easy to make his decision. The rest didn’t matter: his position, the money, it all seemed frivolous to him now. That they were really refugees couldn’t be refuted; he had known that all along, of course. But now that he could honestly distinguish truth from gameplay, he would sign for their release in the morning. Then, screw it, he thought, I’ll get up and do it now.