Mankind had its chance to have a life without surprises, but chose the harder path-to be like God. Now, we get to deal with the complexities of the world, and with the embodiment of that complexity, the imp that is the personification of Murphy's Law.
Murphy's imp never gives you any warning before things fall apart. You have to be ready. You have to think about failure in advance and prepare for it.
In the long run, ready never works out. No matter what you do, the imp always finds a way.
Father Nicholas Smithson
'Yuck. Six in the morning is too early for real life.' Doris McIntire had just reached the main reference desk at the front of the SoTF State Library. She had the early shift this Wednesday, opening the library after the weekly closure for cleaning. Always a relief, Wednesday, she thought. The place got a bit rank between the thorough cleanings, but what could you do? The library was the best resource in the world.
But something was wrong. She looked over at the un-manned guard station by the door, and through the barred glass into the front hallway of the still empty high school. She did not see the guards who should come and open the doors. 'Where the heck are the guards?'
Suddenly, a shape blurred past the window and the door banged open. A dirty, wild-haired man carrying a large bag burst in shouting unintelligibly. He looked from side to side, apparently seeking something. When his gaze settled on the ready reference shelves, he reared back, swinging the bag. The bag gurgled loudly.
There was no time to think, no time to call for help. Doris did the only thing she could do, the thing she had trained for month after month. She reached down to the holster under the reference desk, pulled the .38 revolver that was always there, and put three rounds in the wild man's center of mass. Then she ran around the end of the desk, grabbed the bag and flung it out through the open door down the wide hallway toward the front door of the high school. As it hit the metal doors it burst into flame.
****
'Oh,
'
God's own whistle tore into the ears of everyone in the shop. Maria screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching the side of her face. Some of the customers screamed even louder. Some reached for weapons. Some ran towards the injured girl and others ran away.
Cora was only steps away. She grabbed a bar towel to press onto Maria's cheek to stem the bleeding from the hole created by the impact from the steaming wand. Maria kept screaming at the pain from that and the burns over half her face. Then, as the whistle died down, the smell of hot metal wafted across the room. After a few moments of searching, the espresso maker's power was cut off. It made a 'tinking' sound as it started to cool.
'Get me a bowl of ice water!' Cora called out. 'Maria's scalded. We need to get it cooled down. Somebody call the ambulance.'
'Already on the way,' someone replied.
Cora got a cold compress over about half Maria's face, while still holding pressure on the cut. This wasn't going to be good.
****
Father Nicholas Smithson read the letter for the third time. It was unlikely that the content would change, but he felt that he had been waiting for a long time for this news. He looked across the table at his friend, Father Augustus Heinzerling, and smiled.
'That's it then?' Augustus asked.
'You would think, with the Pope taken out of Rome, with the influence of Lawrence, Cardinal Mazzare, with the general hue and cry going on, that for a single simple priest to be released from his vows to the Society of Jesus and to enter the secular clergy would be a simple matter,' Father Nicholas said.
'Simple? Ha! Where the pope is, the inquisition is. Someone must determine if it is in the best interest of the church for the author of one of the best-selling books in Europe to be released from his personal vows of loyalty to the pope,' August replied. 'And as I think about it, I'm surprised the inquisition hasn't asked about
'Ignore him, Nicholas. He's just jealous,' Father Christopher Schreiner said. 'What does the letter say?'
Nick reached up to his breast pocket and removed the little yellow screwdriver he wore there. There was a similar one in Christopher's pocket. He twirled the screwdriver back and forth in his fingers. 'Apparently my request got through during the confusion following the pope leaving Rome. It's yes. I am now officially a member of the secular clergy, reporting only to the bishop of my diocese, who is, of course, Larry. I am not sure how it got done without Father Vitelleschi's approval.' Nick smiled. 'But in any event, it's done.'
'And so?' Augustus asked.
'And so, in the absence of white-robed Dominican inquisitors knocking at our door accusing me of Manichaeism, and with Cardinal-Protector Mazzare's permission to use Saint Philip Neri's name and image as the personification of the group, I think it's time,' Nick said. 'You both have read the bylaws for the Society of Saint Philip of the Screwdriver, as have Father Kircher, Cardinal Larry and John Grover.'
The other two priests nodded and smiled.
'This is Grantville, not Rome. We're forming a society, not a prayer group, so it's not the Grantville Oratory.' Nick paused. 'I still wonder if Larry was wrong, and we would have been better off with Saint Vidicon, but never mind.' Nick waved his hand pushing the thought away. 'Never mind. It's too late to re-think that. It's time to move from the casual group to what we've talked about, and this release gives me the freedom to do that.'
Nick took a moment to reflect. 'You both know my dilemma.'
'No one doubts your priestly vocation, Nicholas,' Father Christopher said. 'But your skills in the library do more than just bring in funds. You are contributing to the growth of a new culture.'
'Then I have a duty to try to see to it that it's a
'So, we get the minds together, we crush Murphy's imp, and you buy the beer. It works for me,' Augustus said. 'Speaking of beer, why don't we go celebrate your release? I understand there's a new lager at the Gardens.' He pushed back from the table.
Nick smiled. 'Of course, Augustus. And I'm sure that I'm buying.'
****
Doris sat in the staff room of the State Library with her hands wrapped around a cup of some herbal tea Charlotte Kovar had handed to her. 'Do we have any idea who he was?'
'No,' Chelsea Perkins, the head of security for the library replied. 'No note. The police will ask, but I doubt he's been around town. I suspect he came straight here.'
'What do we do now?' Charlotte asked.
'I clean and re-load the revolver. You take Doris home to rest and you go with her to see to it she does,' Chelsea said. 'All her family is out of town. Then, I go bang some heads in the guard room. I'll have to be ready for another attack, just like always. Doris, I'll need to go to the meeting tomorrow with you.'
'Do we have to?' Doris asked, looking up.
'You helped write the policy. We go to the meeting, and you get counseling, need it or not,' Chelsea said. 'It's necessary.'
