90

"Science says thank you," Dr. Sabbatine says. "And I have confirmation that the rift works. One moment…" There's a long delay. Then: "The accountants here report that the Empress is pleased. Though next time she will want…oh, goodness, 500 solidi. I'm not sure—"

"This is madness, Euphrasia!" Stralchus shouts. He's gathered a considerable crowd around himself. Vecla gives you a worried look as the mystic goes on, "You're playing money games when we're trapped in what might as well be hell!"

"It's not hell, Stralchus, it's the past," Dr. Sabbatine says with an audible sigh.

"There's no past anymore," Stralchus says. "The False Icon destroyed our history, replacing it with this mockery, this illusion!"

"Well, I need money from the illusion, or I'm going to get shut down and you're going to be trapped there, so—"

"You don't understand what it's like!" Stralchus screams. "Looking up and seeing that thing in the sky every day, hearing its whispers every night!"

"Its whispers…?" Dr. Sabbatine asks, but the mystic suddenly storms off, taking with him a dozen or more of Chief Kothis's warriors. The chief has returned to brooding over the fate of his daughter and makes no response.

"Stralchus is going to be trouble," Alexius says. "He's been preaching to the locals, Doctor. And I think he's—"

"Stepped outside the bounds of Orthodoxy," Control finishes.

"Well then, let's try to kill two birds with one time-space transference," the doctor says. "I'll test the rift's symmetric stability by transferring something the locals might like but won't seem too extravagant."