"Mr Bloom!" cried Abu Thaleb. "I would remind you, sir, that while you are a most honoured guest to our world, you will inconvenience a great many people if you burn them up."
Bloom blinked as he looked down at Abu Thaleb. "Oh, they will not die. I shall resurrect them."
"They are perfectly capable of resurrecting one another, Mr Bloom. That is not my point. You see many of us have embarked on schemes — oh, menageries, collections, creations of various kinds — and if you were to destroy them they would be seriously disappointed. It would be the height of bad manners, don't you think?"
"You have already heard my opinion of manners."
"But —"
"It is for your own good," Bloom told him.
"Aha! The authentic voice of the prophet!" cried Doctor Volospion. "Sir, you must be my guest!"
"You begin to irritate me, Doctor Volospion," piped Emmanuel Bloom, "with your constant references to me as a guest. I am not a guest. I am the rightful inheritor of this world, controller of the destinies of all who dwell in it, sole Saviour of your souls."
"Quite," apologized Doctor Volospion. "I should imagine, however, that your spaceship, however grandly furnished and with whatever fine amenities, palls on you as a domicile after so many centuries. Perhaps if you would allow me to put my own humble house at your disposal until a suitable palace — or temple, perhaps — can be built for you, I should be greatly flattered."
"Your feeble attempts at guile begin to irritate me, Doctor Volospion. I am Emmanuel Bloom."
"So you have told us…"
"I am Emmanuel Bloom and I can see into every soul."
"Naturally. I merely…"
"And this priestly fawning only makes me despair of you still further. If you would defy me, defy me with some dignity."
"Mr Bloom, I am simply attempting to make you welcome. Your ideas, your language, your attitudes, they are all decidedly unfashionable now. It was my intention to offer you a dwelling from which you may observe the Age at the End of Time, and make plans for its specific salvation — at your leisure."
"My plans are simple enough. They can apply to any age. I shall destroy everything. Then I shall create it afresh. Your identity will not only be preserved, it will be fully alive, perhaps for the first time since you were born."
"Most of us," Abu Thaleb wished to point out, "were not actually born at all, Mr Bloom…"
"That is immaterial. You exist now. I shall help you find yourselves."
"Most of us are content…"
"You think you are content. Are you never restless? Do you never wake from slumber recalling a dream of something lost, something finer than anything you have ever experienced before?"
"As a matter of fact I have not slept for many a long year. The fashion died, with most people, even before I became interested in elephants."
"Do not seek to confuse the issue, Abu Thaleb."
"Mr Bloom, I am confused. I have no wish to have my precious pachyderms destroyed by you. My enthusiasm is at its height. I am sure the same can be said for at least half the population, small though it is, of this planet."
"I cannot heed you," said Emmanuel Bloom, feeling in the pockets of his velvet suit. "You will be grateful when it is done."
"At least you might canvas the opinion of a few more people, Mr Bloom." Abu Thaleb begged. "I mean to say, for all I know most people might think the idea a splendid one! It would make a dramatic change, at least…"
"And besides," said Doctor Volospion, "we certainly have the means to resist you, Mr Bloom, should you begin seriously to discommode us."
Emmanuel Bloom began to stride up the ramp of his spaceship. "I am weary of all this. Woman, do you come with me now?"
Miss Ming maintained silence.
"Please reconsider, Mr Bloom," Doctor Volospion said spiritedly, "as my guest you would share the roof with many great philosophers and prophets, with messiahs and reformers of every description."
"It sounds," piped Mr Bloom, "like Hell."
"And there are things you should see. Souvenirs of a million faiths. Miraculous artefacts of every kind."
Emmanuel Bloom seemed mildly interested. "Eh?"
"Magical swords, relics, supernatural stones — my collection is justly famous."
Emmanuel Bloom continued on his way.
"You would, as well as enjoying this fabulous company, be sharing the same roof as Miss Ming, who is another guest of mine," said Doctor Volospion.
"Miss Ming comes with me. Now."
"Oh, no I don't," exclaimed Miss Ming.
"What?" Emmanuel Bloom paused again.
"Miss Ming stays with me," said Doctor Volospion. "If you wish to visit her, you may visit her at my dwelling."
"Oh, don't bother with him!" said Mavis Ming.
"You will come to me, in time, Mavis Ming," said Emmanuel Bloom.
"That's the funniest thing I've ever heard," she told him. She said to Doctor Volospion: "It's a bit insensitive of you, isn't it, Doctor Volospion, to use me as bait? Why do you want him so badly?"
Doctor Volospion ignored the question.
"You would be very comfortable at Castle Volospion," he told Mr Bloom. "Everything you could desire — food, wine, luxurious furniture, women, boys, any animal of your taste…"
"I need no luxuries and I desire only one woman. She shall be mine soon enough."
"It would make Miss Ming happy, I am sure, if you became my g— if you used my house."
"You are determined, I think, to misunderstand my mission upon this world. I have come to re-fire the Earth, as its Leader and its Hero. To restore Love and Madness and Idealism to their proper eminence. To infuse your blood with the stuff that makes it race, that makes the heart beat and the head swim! Look about you, manikin, and tell me if you see any heroes. You no longer have heroes — and you have such paltry villains!"
"It does not seem reasonable of you to judge by us three alone," said Abu Thaleb.
"Three's enough. Enough to tell the general condition of the whole. Your society is revealed in your language, your gestures, your costumes, your landscapes! Oh, how sad, how ruined, how unfulfilled you are! Ah, how you must have longed, in your secret thoughts, those thoughts hidden even from yourselves, for me to return. And look now — you still do not realize it."
He smiled benevolently down on them, standing near the entrance to his ship.
"But that realization shall dawn anon, be sure of that. You ask me to live in one of your houses — in a tomb, I say. And could I bear to leave my ship behind? My much-named ship, the Golden Hind? Or Firedrake call her, Virgin Flame — Pi-meson or the Magdelaine — sailing out of Carthage, Tyre, Old Bristol or Bombay: Captain Emmanuel Bloom, late of Jerusalem, founder of the Mayan faith, builder of pyramids, called Ra or Raleigh, dependent on your taste — Kubla Khan or Prester John, Baldur, Mithras, Zoroaster — the Sun's Fool, for I bring you Flame in which to drown! I am blooming Bloom, blunderer through the million planes — I am Bloom, the booming drum of destiny. I am Bloom — the Fireclown! Aha! Now you know me!"
The three faces stared blankly up.
He leaned with his hand against the entrance to the airlock, his head on his shoulder, his eye beady and intelligent. "Eh?"
Doctor Volospion remained uncharacteristically placatory. "Perhaps you could enlighten us over a meal? You must be hungry. We can offer the choicest foods to suit the most demanding of tastes. Please, Mr Bloom, I ask again that you reconsider…"
"No."
"You feel I have misinterpreted you, I know. But I am an earnest student. I remain a mite confused. Your penchant for metaphor…"
The Fireclown clapped a tiny hand to a tiny knee. He frowned at Doctor Volospion. "One metaphor is worth a million of your euphemisms, Doctor Volospion. I have problems to consider and must seek solitude. I have poetry to write — or to recall — I forget which — and need time for meditation. I should accept your invitation for it is my duty to broaden your mind — but that duty can wait."
He turned again to regard the woman.
"You'll join me now, Miss Ming?"
His huge blue eyes flashed suddenly with an intelligence, a humour, which shocked her completely from her hard-won composure.
"What?" The response was mindless.
He stretched out a hand. "Come with me now. I offer you pain and knowledge, lust and freedom. Hm?"
She began to rise, as if mesmerized. She seemed to be shivering. Then she sat down. "Certainly not!"
Emmanuel Bloom laughed. "You'll come." He returned his attention to Doctor Volospion. "And I would advise you, sir, to save your breath in this meaningless and puny Temptation. Your hatred of me is patent, whether you admit it to yourself or not. I would warn you to cease your irritation."
"You still refuse to believe my good faith, Mr Bloom. So be it." Doctor Volospion bowed low.
The ramp was withdrawn. The airlock shut.
No further sound escaped the ship.
8. In which Miss Ming begins to feel a certain curiosity concerning the intentions of Emmanuel Bloom
If anyone at the End of Time expected Mr Bloom to begin immediately to exercise his particular plans for bringing Salvation to the planet they were to be disappointed, for his extravagant spaceship (which the fashion of the moment declared to be in hideous taste) remained where it landed and Emmanuel Bloom, the Fireclown, did not re-emerge. A few sightseers came to view the ship — the usual sensation-seekers like the Duke of Queens (who wanted to put the ship at once into his collection of ancient flying machines), My Lady Charlotina of Below the Lake, O'Kala Incarnadine, Sweet Orb Mace, the Iron Orchid, Bishop Castle and their various followers, imitators and hangers-on — but in spite of all sorts of hallooings, bangings, catcalls, lettings-off of fireworks, obscene displays (on the part of the ladies who were curious to see what Miss Ming's most ardent suitor really looked like) and the rest, the great Saviour of Mankind refused to reveal himself; nothing occurred which could be interpreted as action on the Fireclown's part. No fires swept the Earth, no thunders or lightnings broke the calm of the skies, there was no destruction of artefacts nor any further demolition of landscapes. Indeed, it was singularly peaceful, even for the End of Time, and certain people became almost resentful of Mr Bloom's refusal to attempt, at least, a miracle or two.
"Doctor Volospion exaggerated!" pronounced My Lady Charlotina, all in blue and sage, the colours of dreams, as she lunched on a green and recently constructed hillside overlooking the ship (it now stood in clouds of daisies, a memento of the Duke of Queens' pastoral phase which had lasted scarcely the equivalent of an ancient Earth summer) and raised a turnip (another memento) to her ethereal lips. "You know his obsessions, my dear O'Kala. His taste for monks and gurus and the like."
O'Kala Incarnadine, currently a gigantic fieldmouse, nibbled at the lemon he held in both front paws. "I am not familiar with the creatures," he said.
"They are not creatures, exactly. They are a kind of person. Lord Jagged was good enough to inform me about them, although, of course, I have forgotten most of what he said. My point is, O'Kala, that Doctor Volospion wished this Mr Bloom to be like a guru and so interpreted his words accordingly."
"But Miss Ming confirmed…"
"Miss Ming!"
O'Kala shrugged his mousy shoulders in assent.
"Miss Ming's bias was blatant. Who could express such excessive ardour of anyone, let alone Miss Ming?" My Lady Charlotina wiped the white juice of the turnip from her chin.
"Jherek — he pursues his Amelia with much the same enthusiasm."
"Amelia is an Ideal — she is slender, beautiful, unattainable — everything an Ideal should be. There is nothing unseemly in Jherek's passion for such a woman." My Lady Charlotina was unaware of anything contradictory in her remarks. After her brief experience in the Dawn Age she had developed a taste for propriety which had not yet altogether vanished.
"In certain guises," timidly offered O'Kala, "I have lusted for Miss Ming myself, so…"
"That is quite different. But this Mr Bloom is a man."
"Abu Thaleb's tale was not dissimilar to Doctor Volospion's."
"Abu Thaleb is impressionable. On elephants he is unequalled, but he is no expert on prophets."
"Is anyone?"
"Lord Jagged. That is why Doctor Volospion apes him. You know of the great rivalry Volospion feels for Lord Jagged, surely? For some reason, he identifies with Jagged. Once he used to emulate him in everything, or sought to. Jagged showed no interest. Gave no praise. Since then — oh, so long ago my memory barely grants me the bones of it — Doctor Volospion has set himself up as a sort of contra-Jagged. There are rumours — no more than that, for you know how secretive Jagged can be — rumours of a sexual desire which flourished between them for a while, until Jagged tired of it. Now that Lord Jagged has disappeared, I suspect that Doctor Volospion would take his place in our society, for Jagged has the knack of making us all curious about his activities. You have my opinion in a nutshell — Volospion makes much of this Bloom in an effort to pique our interest, to gossip about him in lieu of Jagged."
O'Kala Incarnadine wiped his whiskers. "Then he has succeeded."
"For the moment, I grant you, but unsubtly. It will not last."
My Lady Charlotina sighed and sucked at a celery stalk, letting her gaze wander to the scarlet spaceship. "Our curiosity is still with Jagged. Where can he be? This," she indicated the vessel with her vegetable, "is no more than a diversion."
"It would be amusing, though, if Mr Bloom did begin to lay waste the world."
"There is no logic to it. The world will be finished soon enough, as everyone knows. The very universe in which our planet hangs is on the point of vanishing forever. Mr Bloom has brought his salvation at altogether the wrong moment and at a time when salvation itself is unfashionable, even as a topic of conversation."
"The reasons are obvious…" began O'Kala, in a rare and philosophical mood, "… for who would wish to discuss such matters, now that we know —?"
"Quite." My Lady Charlotina waved. An air car was approaching. It was the shape of a great winged man, its bronze head flashing in the red light of the sun, its blind eyes glaring, its twisted mouth roaring as if in agony. The Duke of Queens had modelled his latest car after some image recently discovered by him in one of the rotting cities.
The car landed nearby and from it trooped many of My Lady Charlotina's most intimate friends. From his saddle behind the head of the winged man the Duke of Queens raised his hand in a salute. He had on an ancient astronaut's jacket, in silver-tipped black fur, puffed pantaloons of mauve and ivory stripes, knee-boots of orange lurex hide, a broad-brimmed hat of panda ears, all sewn together in the most fanciful way.
"My Lady Charlotina! We saw you and had to greet you. We are on our way to enjoy the new boys Florence Fawkes had made for her latest entertainment. Will you come with us?"
"Perhaps, but boys…" She lifted the corner of her mouth.
My Lady Charlotina noted that Doctor Volospion and Mavis Ming were among those pouring from the body of the winged man. She greeted Sweet Orb Mace with a small kiss, laid a sincere hand upon the arm of Bishop Castle, winked at Mistress Christia, and smiled charmingly at Miss Ming.
"Aha! The beauty for whom Mr Bloom crossed galaxies. Miss Ming, you are the focus of all our envy!"
"Have you seen Mr Bloom?" asked Miss Ming.
"Not yet, not yet."
"Then wait before you envy me," she said.
Doctor Volospion's cunning eye glittered. "There is nothing more certain to attract the attention of a lady to a gentleman, even in these weary times of ours than the passion of that gentleman for another lady."
"How perceptive you are, dear Doctor Volospion! It must be admitted. In fact, I believe I already admitted it when I first greeted you."
Doctor Volospion bowed his head.
"You are looking at your best," she continued, for it was true. "You are always elegant Doctor Volospion." He had on a long, full-sleeved robe of bottle-green, trimmed with mellow gold, the neck high, to frame his sharp face, a matching tight-fitting cap upon his head, buttoned beneath the pointed chin.
"You are kind, My Lady Charlotina."
"Ever truthful, Doctor Volospion." She gave her attention to Miss Ming's white frills. "And this dress. You must feel so much younger in it."
"Much," agreed Miss Ming. "How clever of you to understand what it was to be like me! How many hundreds of years can it have been?"
"More than that, Miss Ming. Thousands, almost certainly. I see, at any rate, that your would-be ravisher has yet to come out of his little lair again."
"He can stay there forever as far as I'm concerned."
"I have made one or two attempts to rouse him," said Doctor Volospion. "I sought to shift the ship, too, but it is protected now by a singularly intractable force-field. Nothing I possess can dissipate that field."
"So he does have the power he boasted of, eh?" Bishop Castle in his familiar tall tete which cast a shadow over half the company, looked without much interest at the spaceship.
"Apparently," said Doctor Volospion.
"But why doesn't he use it?" The Duke of Queens joined them. "Has he perished in there, do you think. In his own mad flames?"
"We should have smelled something, at least," said O'Kala Incarnadine.
"Well," Sweet Orb Mace was now a pretty blonde in a black sari, "you would have smelled something, O'Kala, with your nose."
O'Kala wrinkled his current one.
"He's playing cat and mouse with me, that's what I think," said Mavis Ming with a nervous glance at the vessel. "Oh, I'm sorry, O'Kala, I didn't mean to suggest…"
O'Kala Incarnadine made a toothy grin. "I pity any ordinary cat who met a mouse like me!"
"He's hoping I'll give in and go to him. That's typical of some men, isn't it? Well I had enough of crawling with Donny Stevens. Never again I told my friend Betty. And never again it was!"
"But you have been tempted, eh?" My Lady Charlotina became intimate.
"Not once."
My Lady Charlotina let disappointment show.
"I wish," said Mavis Ming, "that he'd either start something or else just go away. It must have been weeks and weeks he's been waiting there! It's getting on my nerves, you know."
"Of course, it must be, my dear," said Sweet Orb Mace.
"Well," the Duke of Queens reminded them all, "Florence Fawkes awaits us. Will you come My Lady Charlotina? O'Kala?"
"I have a project," said My Lady Charlotina, by way of an excuse, "to finish. Of course it is very hard to tell if it is properly finished or not. An invisible city populated with invisible androids. You must come and feel it soon."
"A lovely notion," said Bishop Castle. "Are the androids of all sexes?"
"All."
"And is it possible to —?"
"Absolutely possible."
"It would be interesting —"
"It is."
"Aha!" Bishop Castle tilted his tete. "Then I look forward to visiting you at the earliest chance, My Lady Charlotina. What entertainments you do invent for us!" He bowed, almost toppled by his headgear.
The Duke of Queens had resumed his saddle. "All aboard!" he cried enthusiastically.
It was then that there came a squeak from the space vessel below. The airlock opened. All heads turned.
Emmanuel Bloom's bright blue eyes regarded them. His high-pitched voice drifted up to them.
"So you have come to me," he said.
"I?" said the Duke of Queens in astonishment.
"I have waited," Emmanuel Bloom said, "for you, Miss Ming. So that you may share my joy."
Miss Ming drew back into the main part of the gathering. "I was only passing…" she began.
"Come." He extended a stiff hand from the interior of the ship. "Come."
"Certainly not!" She hid behind Doctor Volospion.
"So, the one with the jackal eyes holds you still. And against your will, I am sure."
"Nothing of the sort! Doctor Volospion is my host, that is all."
"You are too afraid to tell me the truth."
"She speaks the truth, sir," said Volospion in an off-hand tone. "She is free to come and go from my house as she pleases."
"Some pathetic enchantment, no doubt, keeps her there. Well, woman, never fear. The moment I know that you need me I shall rescue you, wherever you may be hidden."
"I don't need rescuing," declared Miss Ming.
"Oh, but you do. So badly do you need it that you dare not tell yourself!"
My Lady Charlotina cried: "Excuse me, sir, for intruding, but we were wondering if your plans for the destruction of the world were completely formulated. I, for one, would appreciate a little notice."
"My meditations are not yet completed," he told her. He still stared at Miss Ming. "Will you come to me now?"
"Never!"
"Remember my oath."
Doctor Volospion stepped forward. "I would remind you, sir, that this lady is under my protection. Should you make any further attempt to annoy her I must warn you that I shall defend her to the death!"
Miss Ming was taken aback by this sudden about-face. "Oh, Doctor Volospion! How noble!"
"What's this?" said Bloom, blinking rapidly. "More posturing?"
"I give fair warning, that is all."
Doctor Volospion folded his arms across his chest and stared full into the eyes of Emmanuel Bloom.
Bloom remained unimpressed. "So you do keep her prisoner, as I suspected. She believes she has her liberty, but you know better!"
"I shall accept no more insults." Doctor Volospion lifted his chin in defiance.
"This is not mere braggadocio, I can tell. It is calculated. But what do you plan?"
"Any more of this, sir," said Doctor Volospion in ringing tones, "and I shall have to demand satisfaction of you."
The Fireclown laughed. "I shall free the woman soon."
The airlock shut with a click.
"How extraordinary!" murmured My Lady Charlotina. "How exceptional of you, Doctor Volospion! Miss Ming must feel quite moved by your defence of her."
"I am, I am." Miss Ming's small eyes were shining. "Doctor Volospion. I never knew…"
Doctor Volospion strode for the air car. "Let us leave this wretched place."
Miss Ming tripped behind him. It was as if she had found her True Knight at last.
9. In which the Fireclown brings some small Salvation to the End of Time
It was, as it happened, My Lady Charlotina who first experienced the fiery wrath of Emmanuel Bloom.
Tiring (for reasons described elsewhere) of her apartments under Lake Billy the Kid, she had begun a new palace which was to be constructed in an arrangement of clouds above the site of the lake, so that it hovered over the water, reflecting both this and the sun. It was to be primarily white but with some other pale colours here and there, perhaps for flanking towers. She had spent considerable thought upon the palace and it was still by no means complete, for My Lady Charlotina was not one of those who can create a conception whole with the mere twist of a power ring; she must consider, she must alter, she must build piece by piece. Thus, in the clouds over Lake Billy the Kid, there were half-raised towers, towers without tops, domes with spires and domes that were turreted, there were gaps where halls had been, there were whole patches of space representing apartments which, at a whim, she had returned to their original particles.
Emerging from Lake Billy the Kid, after resting, My Lady Charlotina stood upon the shore, surrounded by comfortable oaks and cypresses, and arranged the mist upon the water into more satisfactory configurations, making it drift so high that it mingled with the clouds on which her new palace was settled, and she was about to eradicate a tower, which offended, now, her sense of symmetry, when there came a loud roaring sound and the whole edifice burst into flame.
My Lady Charlotina gasped with indignation. Her first thought was that one of her friends had misjudged an experiment and accidentally set fire to her palace, but she soon guessed the true cause of the blaze.
"The lunatic incendiary!" she cried, and she flung herself into the sky, not to go to her crackling palace (which was beyond salvaging) but to look down upon the world and discover the whereabouts of the Fireclown.
He was not a mile from the conflagration, standing on top of a great plinth meant to support a statue of himself which the Duke of Queens had never bothered to complete. He wore his black velvet, his bow tie, his shirt with its ruffles. He stood upon the plinth like a parrot upon its pedestal, shifting from side to side and flapping his arms at his sides as he studied his handiwork. He did not see My Lady Charlotina as, in golden gauze, she fluttered down towards him.
She paused, to hover a few feet above his head, she waited, watching him, until he became aware of her presence. She listened to him as he spoke to himself.
"Quite good. A fitting symbol. It will look well in any legends, I think. It is best for the first few miracles to be spectacular and not directed at individuals. I should not leave it too late, however, before rescuing the remains of any residents and resurrecting them."
She could not contain herself.
"I, sir, might have been the only resident of that castle in the clouds. Happily I had not arrived at it before you began your fire-raising!"
His little head jerked here and there. At last he looked up. "So!"
"The palace was to be my new home, Mr Bloom. It was impolite of you to destroy it."
"There were no inhabitants?"
"Not yet."
"Well, then, I shall be on my way."
"You make no attempt to apologize?"
Mr Bloom was amused. "I can scarcely apologize for something so calculating. You ask me to lie? I am the Fireclown. Why should I lie?"
She was speechless. Mr Bloom began to climb down a ladder he placed against the plinth. "I bid you good morning, madam."
"Good morning?"
"Or good afternoon — you keep no proper hours on this planet at all. It is hard to know. That will be changed," he smiled, "in Time."
"Mr Bloom, your purposes here are quite without point. Are we to be impressed by such displays?" She waved her hand towards the blazing palace. Her clouds had turned brown at the edges. "Time, Mr Bloom, is not what it was. Times, Mr Bloom, have changed since those primitive Dawn Ages when such 'miracles' might have provoked interest, even surprise, in the inhabitants of this world. Watch!" She turned a power ring. The fire vanished. An entire, if uninspired, fairy palace glittered again in the pristine clouds.
"Hum," said Mr Bloom, still on his ladder. He began to climb back to the top of the plinth. "I see. So Volospion is not the only conjurer here."
"We all have that power. Or most of us. It is our birthright."
"Birthright? What of my birthright?"
"You have one?"
"It is the world. I explained to Doctor Volospion, madam…" He was aggrieved. "Did he speak to no-one of my mission here?"
"He told us what you had said, yes."
"And you are not yet spiritually prepared, it seems. I left you plenty of time for contemplation of your fate. It is the accepted method, where Salvation is to be achieved."
"We have no need of Salvation, Mr Bloom. We are immortal, we control the universe — what's left of it — we are, most of us, without fear (if I understand the term properly)." My Lady Charlotina was making an untypical effort to meet Emmanuel Bloom halfway. It was probably because she had no strong wish to be at odds with him, since she was curious to know better the man who courted Miss Ming with such determination. "Really, Mr Bloom, you have arrived too late. Even a few hundred years ago, before we heard of the dissolution of the universe, there might have been some enjoyment for all, but not now. Not now, Mr Bloom."
"Hum." He frowned. He lifted a hand to his face and appeared to peck at his cuff. "But I have no other role, you see. I am a Saviour. It is all I can do."
"Must you save a whole world? Aren't there a few individuals you could concentrate on?"
"It hardly seems worthwhile. I am, to be more specific, a World Saviour — a Saver of Worlds. I have ranged the multiverse saving them. From all sorts of things, physical and spiritual. And I always leave the places I have saved spiritually regenerated. Ask any of them. They will all tell you the same. I am loved throughout the teeming dimensions."
"Then perhaps you could find another world…"
"No, this is the last. I left it long ago, promising that I would return and save it, as my final action."
"Well, you are too late."
"Really, madam, I cannot take your word for it. I am the greatest authority on such matters in the universe, to say the least. I am the Champion Eternal, Hero of a million legends. When Law battles Chaos, I am always called. When civilizations are threatened with total extermination, it is to me that they turn for rescue. And when decadence and despair rule an otherwise secure and prosperous world, it is for Emmanuel Bloom, the Fireclown, Time's Jester, that they yearn. And I come."
"But we did not call you, we require no rescuing. We are not yearning, I assure you, even a fraction."
"Miss Ming is yearning."
