Observant, she thinks again, and keen to please, and guarded. No surprise, given where he's come from, where he is now. Athena taps the edge of her coffee cup, thoughtful again. "Nothing," she says, after a moment's consideration. "Nothing is broken, not in the sense that machinery will break down and cease to function properly. A city is not a machine, you understand: it's an organic system. Whether or not it's functioning properly depends entirely on where one sits in the food chain. So when I look around, I don't ask myself what's broken. I ask, who is this working for? Who benefits from this? And how can it be made to benefit more? Which," she adds with a touch of wryness, "is entirely a more thorny question."