“Well, there’s gotta be a way,” Danny said a bit sullenly.
“Maybe there is,” Jerry said. “Suppose we help ourselves to a corner of
their universe?”
Wiz, Moira and Bal-Simba stared hard at Jerry.
“My Lord, how long has it been since you slept?” Moira asked.
“Twenty-eight hours or so, but what’s that got to do with it?”
“If you get a good night’s sleep, I suspect the connection will occur to
you,” the hedge witch said tartly.
There was a lull in the conversation while everyone considered.
“Well, it does seem to be a pretty big place,” Wiz said at last. “Lots of
islands and no one in most of it.”
“We’ve been able to set up scout bases for our dragon patrols,” Danny
pointed out. “Why can’t we just take over one of the deserted islands?”
“You can’t be serious!” Moira snapped. “You mean hide like a mouse in the
corner while you do your work?”
“Hey, it’s there and they’re not using all of it,” Danny said. “Why not?”
“For a beginning you could all get killed. None of you know what lurks in
that place nor how it is guarded.”
“I do not believe it is guarded at all,” Bal-Simba said. “Our scouts have
found no sign of watchers or guardian spells. Indeed, their biggest
problem seems to be to keep from straying into that universe
unintentionally.”
The hedge witch’s mouth dropped open. “You are actually serious! My Lord,
I cannot believe that you are actually considering this.”
“My Lady,” Bal-Simba said gravely. “In times like these we must consider
many things we would rather not.”
She turned to Aelric in mute appeal, but the elf only shrugged. “It does
seem to present a solution, Lady.”
“There’s another little problem,” Wiz said. “Where are we going to get a
supercomputer?”
“We can’t just issue a purchase order, can we?” Jerry said finally.
“I don’t think Dun and Bradstreet has a current report on us.”
“I take it,” Bal-Simba said, “we cannot simply pay for this in gold, as we
paid the programmers?”
“Not that simple,” Wiz told him. “First, I don’t think they’d take gold.
Second, these things are built to order and most manufacturers have
backlogs. Third, they’re still under export controls and there is a lot of
paperwork you have to fill out before you can buy one.”
“Well,” Jerry said slowly, “the regulations have gotten a lot looser since
you left. Anyway, legally we are entitled to an export license. We’re not
on the list of proscribed countries, after all.”
Wiz looked at him. “You want to fill out the application? And then explain
it to the State Department?”
“Just a thought.”
Danny shrugged. “So we swipe one.”
“I don’t think so. At five million a copy, people would talk.”
“So what? The Russians do it all the time.”
“We’re not . . .” Wiz started and then stopped. “You know, you may have
something there, in a backhanded sort of way.” He stared off into space
for a minute and chewed on his lower lip.
“Assuming we can make our searching demons operate . . . yeah.”
“We’re gonna swipe one?” Danny asked eagerly.
“If we can find the right one,” Wiz told him. “After all, a fair robbery
is no exchange-or something like that.”
“And then you are just going to walk into this bubble universe and set it
up,” Moira said disgustedly. She picked up the jug of fruit juice and
sniffed it. “Are you sure you did not turn this into something stronger
when I was not looking?”
Eighteen: INTERNATIONAL COMPLICATIONS
Generals are not known for their sunny dispositions. Just now this
general’s disposition was as frigid as the Alaskan snowbanks lining the
runways outside. His staff didn’t look like they were having much fun
either.
“Okay, so whatever these things are, we haven’t been able to get good
radar signatures on them. Are we even sure they are real?”
The other officers in the room shifted uncomfortably. At last the
intelligence officer spoke up.
“Sir, we’re not sure. But they act like they are.”
“Analysis shows there’s about an eighty-five percent chance they are
real,” said the officer responsible for the base’s powerful radar chain.