In the parlor, Shiller and Batman sat on two separate armchairs. Shiller poured Batman a glass of freshly opened whisky. Batman, observing the golden liquid, said, "I didn't expect you to enjoy whisky."
"It was a gift from Alberto," Shiller replied, swirling his drink. "It's more for show than taste; the liquor is too strong for me."
"How have you been lately?"
"Not bad, but it seems you're having some family issues."
"You're still so perceptive, Doctor. However, regarding specifics, I can't really say. Everything is too noisy and chaotic."
"You know that's not the case. It's just that the solitude of the Batcave has made you unaccustomed to the bustle of Wayne Manor right now."
"Perhaps that's true." Batman took a sip of the whisky; the ice melted slowly, making the drink almost neat, and it almost cracked his usually unchanging expression.
"I told you the whisky was strong," Shiller said with a laugh, merely swirling his glass without taking a sip.
"Why would you want to hold a gathering like this?" Batman asked.
"It seems you don't have the energy for beating around the bush." Shiller diverted the topic at first and then, as Batman frowned slightly, continued, "Gotham is about to host a celebration, but not the traditional kind—it's too noisy and chaotic for our generation."
"Let me guess, rock, rap, postmodern art exhibitions, and cosmism?"
Shiller laughed again at Batman's precise and metaphorically laden description, setting down his glass and saying, "Something like that."
"Teenagers usually can't understand why we stay away from the revelries they are immersed in."
"Because we are accustomed to solitude."
"It's about stillness. In life, there are things that don't need changing—not everything that's legally, morally, or emotionally sound requires full commitment."
"Even if that leads you further off track?"
"Society is a track, but life isn't. You can step out of it whenever you want if you're willing to pay the price. For you, is solitude genuinely enjoyable, or is it a price you're willing to pay for certain things?"
"What about you?"
Shiller picked up his glass, pressed the rim to his lower lip, and after thinking in silence for a moment, said, "Truthfully, I don't enjoy solitude, but I need it. Prolonged exposure to noise dulls my senses. Now you know another one of my weaknesses."
"You want to be ordinary, but your talents make you perceive much more in society than others, hence the extra noise."
"So I treat solitude as a remedy, a rare time of tranquility."
"What about the reverse?"
"You wish to treat the hustle and bustle as a respite. By that logic, you truly enjoy solitude, but if you remove yourself for too long, perhaps one day you won't regard liveliness as relaxing but as a burden and nuisance."
"It's all about mastering the measure."
"Taking the challenge."
"Keeping the balance."
The sound of clinking glass echoed; Shiller withdrew his toasting hand and said, "I have no doubt that your willpower will never let you succumb to the Abyss of depression due to solitude, but enjoyment and efficiency often conflict, and you are bound to give up some things."
"If it were just for me, I wouldn't give up anything, but if my sacrifice brings both enjoyment to me and empathy from the children, then it's worth considering."
"It seems you are unclear whether the children need your company."
"They're all grown now, each one strong, independent, and having their own ideas. It's time for them to fly out."
"But you cannot kick them off the cliff before they are ready to spread their wings."
"I never tried to do that."
"You took another extreme. You keep them in the nest, and when they want to fly out due to rebellion and curiosity, they always perceive excessive danger through your eyes."
"The world outside is dangerous indeed."
"This makes them start looking for gaps in your wings, sneaking out in a rebellious manner. In that case, the world becomes ten times more dangerous."
"I've had them practice flying enough."
"But you don't let them join your flight."
"That's very dangerous."
"Keeping them in the nest, letting them sneak out is ten times more dangerous."
Batman had to pick up his whisky for another sip and shook his head, "I'm afraid I've never been able to outtalk you with words, Doctor. It's not my specialty."
"Nor is it mine, if they feel defeated by my words, it only shows where their failure lies," Shiller replied.
"Too sharp."
Shiller swirled his glass, enjoying the crisp sound of the ice clinking against the glass and said, "Perhaps you should start formation flight training, but don't fly high above them. Instead, join their flight, become the lead goose of the squad."
"There's no evidence they no longer need my protection."
"But there is plenty of evidence that you need their love."
Batman fell silent again.
"That's the only way. If they love you like a strict father, you'll never be able to tell whether they fear you because of patriarchy or reciprocate your love out of filial affection."