The Philosophical Strangler by Eric Flint

Author:Eric Flint [Flint, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Epic, Fantasy, Fiction, Historical, General
ISBN: 9780743435413
Google: qwv0m0O7qFIC
Amazon: 0743435419
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2001-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

At that point, my brain went on strike. Total walkout, picket lines up, the whole shot. Greyboar gaped.

Of course, Hildegard just kept chugging along with her lesson in Remedial Theology.

“Since they’re immaterial figments of the Old Geister’s imagination,” she explained, “the only way you can force an angel—fallen or risen, by the way, the principle’s the same, it’s just that you can’t summon a risen angel down to earth—to do anything is to squeeze their spirit. And the way you do that is by demonstrating your utter indifference to their existence. Hate that, angels. It tortures them no end, the idea that someone not only isn’t overawed by their presence but would just as soon die to get away from them. It’s an ancient trick, first perfected by the swamis of the Sundjhab. Great austerities. Does it every time.”

She pursed her lips. “Of course, the trick’s gotten more difficult over the millennia. In the old days, you could coerce a fallen angel just by practicing the traditional austerities: fasting, scourging, suchlike. But I’m afraid that just won’t do, anymore. The Old Geister’s gotten tougher as time goes by. Like old Shoe Leather, He is now. His angels just laugh at fasting, today. Scourging will still make them wince, of course. But to force a fallen angel to cough up the score of the Harmony of the Spheres, well, for that I’ll need to practice a truly great austerity. I considered the problem at some length, let me tell you, trying to figure out what would be the greatest austerity I could come up with. And then—like a bolt out of the blue!—it came to me: I’ll have myself strangled by the world’s greatest chokester. If that doesn’t do the trick, nothing will.”

She smiled. “Is it clear now?”

I had my own opinion as to who in the room suffered from mental deficiency, but I kept it to myself. Didn’t need to say anything, anyway. I knew Greyboar would turn the job down flat.

“Not a chance,” he growled. “I don’t choke girls. Abbess of the Sisters of Tranquility or not, you’re still a girl as far as squeezing’s concerned. You’ll have to get another chokester. Even if he isn’t the best in the world.”

Hildegard nodded her head. “Yes, yes. Gwendolyn told me you’d be stubborn on this point. So I had her give me a note. I have it right here.” She rummaged around in a drawer, brought out a letter.

“It’s for you,” she said, walking around the desk and handing it to Greyboar.

The strangler opened the letter and read it. After reading it twice, he handed it to me. Here’s what it said:

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