Bill was not pleased. He had let himself slip again, slip into his old ways. His old habits of a care free life, without consideration or care for those around him. He had learned better since his confrontation with George. Ever since that day, he had learned that there were great consequences to very action, be it his own or the actions of others. Ever since that day he had know that he needed to be a better man, to be a man worthy of living within this crumbling society. George had shown him that even though death may knock at your door, you must do what you feel is right, what you know is right, and Bill hand worked out what was right when he had met Prometheus. Mankind must be allowed to choose its fate. But he had tortured and killed a man in cold blood. How, how could this fit with his outlook on life, upon society. They had needed the information badly, to defend themselves and all that they had worked for in the wasteland, but was that enough. They had offer the man a choice of a quick death or a slow one, he had, eventually chosen the slow one, but was that enough. Should he have offered him the choice of life, the hope of freedom? No, that would have damned the rest of the wasteland, nor would it. Bill didn’t know anymore, he doubted his own judgement.
James shad begun to refuse people the choice, which was the change in him. What he now did was simply allow people the chance to refuse his persuasion, quite a different matter. He was obsessed with his own agenda, refusing to see the bigger picture, and accept that sometimes the wasteland didn’t need persuading, it needed a chance. He just didn’t know that. If things carried on that way they were going, Bill could see one of them ending up dead, the product of a duel of ideals.