Free The warlock unlocked by Christopher Stasheff Page A

time.”
    “Your Holiness!” Father Vidicon threw his arms wide. “You wound me! Of courseI’ll see to it there’s no transmission error!”
    “No offense intended, Father Vidicon—but I’m rather aware that the transmitter I’ve given you isn’t exactly the most recent model.”
    “What can you expect, from donations? Besides, Your Holiness, British Marconi made excellent transmitters in 1990! No,Italy andSouthern France will receive us perfectly. But it would help if you could invest in a few spare parts for the converter that feeds the satellite ground station…”
    “Whatever that may be. Buy whatever you need, Father Vidicon. Just be certain our signal is Page 37
    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    transmitted. You may go now.”
    “Don’t worry, Your Holiness! Your voice shall be heard, and your face be seen, even though the Powers of Darkness rise up against me!”
    “Including Maxwell’s Demon?” His Holiness said dourly. “And the Imp of the Perverse?”
    “Don’t worry, Your Holiness.” Father Vidicon made a circle of his thumb and middle finger. “I’ve dealt with thembefore.”

    “ ‘The good souls flocked like homing doves,’ ” Father Vidicon sang, “or they will after they’ve heard our Pope’s little talk.” He closed the access panel of the transmitter. “There! Every part certified in the green! I’ve even dusted every circuit board… How’s that backup transmitter, Brother Anson?”
    “I’ve replaced two I.C. chips so far,” Brother Anson answered from the bowels of the ancient device.
    “Not that they were bad, you understand—but I had my doubts.”
    “I’ll never question a Franciscan’s hunches.” Father Vidicon laced his fingers across his midriff and sat back. “Did you check the converter to the ground station?”
    “ ‘Converter?’ ” Brother Anson’s head and shoulders emerged, covered with dust. “You mean that huge resistor in the gray box?”
    Father Vidicon nodded. “The very one.”
    “A bit primitive, isn’t it?”
    Father Vidicon shrugged. “There isn’t time to get a proper one, now—and it’s all they’ve given me money for, ever since I was ‘promoted’ to Chief Engineer. Besides, all we reallyneed to do is to drop our 50,000-watt transmitter signal down to something the ground station can handle.”
    Brother Anson shrugged. “If you say so, Father. I should think that would kick up a little interference, though.”
    “Well, we can’t be perfect—not on the kind of budget we’re given, anyhow. Just keep reminding yourself, Brother, that most of our flock still live in poverty; they need a bowl of millet more than a clear picture.”
    “I can’t argue with that. Anyway, I did check the resistor. Just how many ohms does it provide, anyway?”
    “About as many as you do, Brother. How’d it test out?”
    “Fine, Father. It’s sound.”
    “Or will be, till we go on the air.” Father Vidicon nodded. “Well, I’ve got two spares handy. Let the worst that can happen, happen! I’m more perverse than Murphy!”
    The door slammed open, and the Monsignor was leaning against the jamb. “Father… Vidicon!” he Page 38
    Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    panted. “It’s … catastrophe!”
    “Murphy,” Brother Anson muttered; but Father Vidicon was on his feet. “What is it, Monsignor? What’s happened?”
    “Reverend Sun! He discovered the Pope’s plans, and has talked the U.N. into scheduling his speech for Friday morning!”
    Father Vidicon stood, galvanized for a second. Then he snapped, “The networks! Can they air His Holiness early?”
    “Cardinal Beluga’s on three phones now, trying to patch it together! If he brings it off, can you be ready?”
    “Oh, we can be ready!” Father Vidicon glanced at the clock. “Thursday, 4 pm. We need an hour. Any time after that, Monsignor.”
    “Bless you!” the Monsignor turned