The General pursed his lips. “Yes, that’s probably best. If the Rap Sheet will be safe anywhere, it’ll be safe there. And The Mysterious Q can make the best use of it.”
“Use it?” exclaimed Hildegard. “That horrid thing?”
The General’s face grew bleak. “Yes, Hildegard, use it. We’ll be able to keep track of the activities of the police and the Ozarine spies. The enemy has suffered a double blow here, don’t you see? It’s not just that they won’t be able to use the Rap Sheet, but that we’ll be able to use it against them. And why not? It seems fitting to me.”
Hildegard shook her head. “Oh, it’s not the justice of the matter that bothers me, General. It’s—well, perhaps you’re right. I’m certain that Joe wouldn’t mind. After all, he made the thing to keep track of the baddies. Not the baddies he originally had in mind, of course, but then things have turned out differently than he thought they would.”
She shook her head. “Still, I don’t much care for the idea. And I don’t think it will really stop the Ozarines.”
“Of course it won’t stop them,” replied the General gruffly. “To the contrary—now that their favored methods of conquest are neutralized, they’ll fall back on simpler methods. Direct military intervention—starting at Prygg, I imagine.”
Hildegard looked distressed. “I had so hoped to avoid this unpleasantness,” she said softly.
A look of sympathy came to the General’s face, but when he spoke his voice was like iron. “It was never possible to avoid it, Abbess. Never. And it won’t just be a military intervention, either. The Ecclesiarchs will drop their facade of holy dispassion. Soon enough they’ll bring out the Switches—and who knows what other relics they’ve been hoarding for centuries?”
“Don’t forget the Godferrets!” cried Wolfgang.
“I have not forgotten them,” replied the General. “They’ll be right in the thick of things. In many ways, they’ll pose the greatest danger because of their magical powers. God’s Own Tooth is probably the world’s most powerful sorcerer.”
Wolfgang cackled. “Oh, I don’t think so, General! Oh no, not at all! In fact, the world’s greatest sorcerer is on his way here this very minute.”
The General frowned. “Who is this? And why is he coming to see me?”
“Well, actually, he’s not coming to see you. He’s coming to see Uncle Manya. His name’s Zulkeh—Zulkeh of Goimr, physician.”
“Oh, dear,” said Hildegard.
The General looked at her sharply. “What’s all this about, Hildegard? Do you know this Zulkeh?”
“Oh, yes, General. I’ve known him for years.”
The Abbess bestowed a look on Wolfgang which fairly reeked of disapproval. “You had to go and do it, didn’t you, nephew?”
Wolfgang rolled his eyes. His body began twitching. “Oh! Oh!” he cried. “I think I’m having one of my attacks! Oh! Oh!”
“Stop it, Wolfgang!” exclaimed Hildegard. “Stop that this instant! I want a straight answer and none of your foolishness!”
The lunatic ceased twitching. He beamed at the Abbess.
“Hildegard—such a disciplinarian! So medieval! That’s not at all the proper approach to a demented seizure, you know? The head psychiatrist at the asylum says—”
“A straight answer, I said! Now!”
“Oh, all right,” pouted Wolfgang. “Well, yes, I did think your approach was altogether too placid. We argued about this years ago, if you remember. And I don’t see what you’re so upset about—or are you still hoping you can change the Old Geister’s mind?” Wolfgang broke into a fit of howling laughter. “It was always such an idiotic idea, my dear aunt! How can you change God’s mind? He’s omniscient, you know?”
“He most certainly is not!” snapped the Abbess.
Wolfgang shook his head. “Such heresy! Such outré theology!” He looked at the rest of us. “It’s why they excommunicated her, you know? Can’t say I blame them! What kind of a proper abbess goes around saying God’s got an ego problem?”
“Yes, Wolfgang, we know that’s why they excommunicated her,” said the General patiently. “But I’m afraid I’m not making much sense out of all this—and spare me the line about expecting sense from a lunatic!”
Wolfgang pouted. “But it’s one of my best lines!”