Marsh was sixty-one, silver-haired, possessed of the authority that accumulates in men trusted by powerful people long enough that trust becomes a credential. He had known Catherine since she was seven. He had wept at her funeral.
Marsh made most of the decisions and even had the authority to hire and fire staff. He, too, agreed that Titan could not be rehomed. He said he would handle the problem personally. However, a solution to the problem seemed difficult. Nothing seemed to work, or so it appeared.