“What’s this thing do?”

“Gods above, Tolst, put that down.”

“There are no gods above, Danny,” Tolst said as he put the clanky orb down. “Why, what’s it do?”

“It’s full of something that will explode if you shake it too much,” retorted Danzenn. “And yes, there are.”

“Leviathans aren’t omnipotent.”

“Well they might as well be.”

“Why do you have an orb in here that explodes when it moves too much?”

“What do you mean why? For just that reason. It’s a motion grenade.”

“That’s extremely dangerous.”

“That’s why I handle it appropriately.”

“You have it out on your mantle. Anyone could knock it off and blow it up.”

“It needs to be shaken harder than that. You need to really throw the thing, give it some velocity. But don’t — that was a statement, not a suggestion.”

“You always state the obvious. I’m not going to throw your precious motion grenade, Danny.”

“It’s a compulsion. What are you here for again?”

“Oh, I’m just bored. And you usually have soup. And you’re usually doing something interesting. But mostly you have killer soup.”

“Well right now I’m studying ways that microscopic life is affected by aether manipulation.”

“What’s the point of that?”

“To discover possible consequences of what we’re doing when we use magic.”

“If there might be consequences, why do you bother?”

“Because we can mitigate them if we know what they are. And magic is cool.”

“Sounds like a waste of time. There’s always a physical way to do whatever magic can do if you’re creative enough.”

“Sounds like a waste of time.”