The ways of politics are never so simple as that. A contingent of crusaders including Dracula and Ragnar protested that, while they had no objection to Quircy's selection because she looked rock and roll enough to earn their respect, they insisted on considering the merit in appointing a vice-leader from the other game. Many officers supported the motion as a way to forestall Quircy's “inevitable tyranny,” as Lasva quoted Gaelvry saying despite the latter's attempts at clarification, and therefore the expedition leader had to acquiesce in the appointment of Metatron as vice-leader.

Next, Quircy's vision of the future included a startling, indeed scandalous admission. “I decided to listen to Cadmos.” Incredulity warred with anger. The assembly might have stripped Quircy Rau of her position on the spot if she had not continued speaking, which would have been a strange thing for her to do. Does that happen often? Somebody walks into a room, says she decided to listen to someone, and clams up? The world is a big place, but even so.

“Our idea about showcasing our trophies in a central location was perfect, but unforeseen eventualities made it impossible. I mourn the loss, but we have to move on. What Cadmos said was that we should conquer other games, and doesn't that make sense? We attack, we set up a base in a strategic location, and we decorate it with the finest tribute. Finest, biggest, most expensive-looking, however you want to put it. All in favor, yell, 'Quircy, you look great today, what's your secret?'”

Renters dream of buying a home, actors want to direct, every senator sees a president in the mirror, and raiders are nothing but journeyman conquerors. Full of confidence and might, the host shouted as one, “Quircy Rau, that's a great plan but we aren't going to say that other stuff!”

“None of you said it. Not a single one. I have a good view from up on this megatruck, so I know. What gives, Zims?”

“I already know your secrets, Quirce.”

“Which means everyone else does, too. I forgot about that for a second. Never mind that, then. I decided something else that has no relation to Cadmos. We need departments! We'll divide up responsibilities among a few departments and assign each a few officers . . . wait. We can't call them that.”

“Ministers,” Metatron said.

“Eek! Don't stand behind me like that!” Metatron moved beside Quircy Rau. “No, keep standing behind me. Just don't do it like that. All Incorporeal, you know?” The Incorporeal crusader nodded and adopted a very material sort of pose in that he planted his sword and leaned over it. “Nice. You look tough but not hostile, like a guy who wants to work out in peace when thugs come in and start demanding protection money from the gym manager. I'm happy to take your advice. We're going to set up ministries to take charge of various duties. With ministers in them.” She produced a small notebook with a pink cover and flipped through it.

“First up: Exploring. For this one I want Otsk V. Zops, that other hunter from Brenlond, you know, the blonde one . . .”

Otsk V. Zops raised his mighty arm and pointed. “Sindze U. Radalo,” he said.

“Right! Green archer! Her, and Clint of Spinach City.”

“Neat.”

“You three are in charge of finding games and placing markers. Not painting the route, though. That goes under Construction. This is a big department. Ministry. Depinistry? You have to build, fortify, and decorate bases, transport furniture, buy statues, all that sort of thing. I'd like a little more variety, visually speaking, but that's just a suggestion. It's your show! Let's put Eten as the number one, and under him Skaya . . .”

“Gladly,” she said as she curtsied.

“. . . Trainer Eumorsedio, don't let me down with those statues, Darlotte Glofal in case of injuries, Turpin, Kojiro, Puck, Crusher Domingo, and Manyana. I'm also assigning some permanent underlings. Don't order these lackeys around without Eten's permission, or unless they have a loitering look. Caduceus because Construction can make the best use of this handy monstrosity.” She tapped her foot on the hauler. “Besides her, Shears and, um, 'Brother,' 'Recruit,' and 'Vampire Lord.'”

“How do you respond to allegations that you use a dartboard to come up with these assignments?”

Quircy rolled her eyes. “Lasva, everybody's seen me writing names on a hundred pins and letting loose. The ones that stay up get the job. That's the sort of decisiveness you can expect when Quircy's in charge!” The crowd cheered, and she waved at it before resuming. “The third ministry will be Planning. I'm putting Zims, Gintus Pelluina, Smidgen, that Rare with the book, Michael, and Ecke in there. Definitely not Mentor Tendradius Pux, though. Hm. I really need to stop thinking that having a class bonus to debuff chance makes you good at strategizing. Oh well, I said it, so it's too late now.”

Hyune Giling snapped his book shut and pushed up his glasses. “Those are expectations I believe it within our capacity to surpass.”

“I'm glad you're confident, because I regret your appointment already. C'est la vie. You Strategists always say you need more information, so next is Information Gathering. Yay! Here's a job for Lasva.”

“Are you just trying to distract me from your scandals and incompetence?”

“Yes. Good job gathering that information. Wruden Calx, Serdon Miloz because he's so charismatic, Inorrea Vacationer, for obvious reasons . . .”

“That's a bad sign for a spy,” Inorrea said.

“. . . Nimue, Ruthven, and based on a little consultation I had with Sibyl back home, Ipons Ulsrada. I don't know who that is, but congratulations, whoever you are.”

“I'm me!”

“Are you sure? Regardless. I decided to split out a separate ministry for Cataloguing. I want you guys to record gathered information, sure, but I also want you to find out stuff like what elements we all end up as in each different game, how our stats compare, that sort of thing. Got it? That'll be Santa C. Dorenz in charge, since you're used to keeping track of who's naughty and who's nice.”

“Subordinates do that for me,” he objected.

“Good news! I'm putting Apprentice, Catachumen, and Clipboard under you. Because he has a clipboard.”

Many in the host wondered who that was. “Perhaps he's attended one of our exercise sessions,” Reginald said. “Fortunately, the records are kept here.” He checked his clipboard, and then all became clear. Not to him, but to everyone else.

“Last, and it's up to you whether you're least or not, we need people in charge of evaluating the worth of movables in the games we subdue. Then you'll have to determine what it's fair to extract from each game, what should dress up our base there to broadcast our superiority, and what special trophies would best represent each conquest in our home bases. That's right, the Ministry of Assessment and Revenue! Hm.” Quircy pulled out a pencil and crossed out that name. “It's funny how words sound different when you say them out loud. That's just so cold and impersonal. I know! The Ministry of Plundering!”

Characters who had been enjoying private conversations, polishing bowling balls, or slipping into the reverie familiar to the victims of long meetings dropped what they were doing and paid attention, some to the speech and others to their own feet they had just assaulted, unintentionally, with polished bowling balls. The latter recovered their equipment, rubbed their toes, and joined the others in shouting “Pick me!”

“I didn't expect that much enthusiasm for accounting. Is it really that exciting, Zims?”

“Nah. Count hard so you can play hard is all it means to me.”

“Then again, you have more experience. It stands to reason amateurs aren't going to be as blasé about an opportunity like this.” Quircy turned back to the crowd. “Try not to be too disappointed if you aren't selected, and remember, these are just the ministers. They'll be calling on the rest of you for help. Our top trophy-takers will be Asmodeus, Ivar, Fafnir, and Youl Sandshaker, and in addition I'm assigning Reaver as designated chief underling. Yay yay!” The crowd agreed with the first yay, though it hesitated on the second one. Moderation. That was what the public liked.

“That's the end of my notes. Are there any other ministries I need to staff?”

Luau Lua raised her hand. “I propose the creation of a ministry to encourage the spread of our traditional, I might say venerable, custom of elementercise through the provision of instructors to other games and crippling penalties for failure to show up to a session you signed up for, because you're just wasting everybody's time at that point.”

The crowd divided between supporters and groaners in a restrained, moderate fashion, each side hurling a moderate number of insults at the other. Quircy listened, gave up on finding a bandwagon to jump on, and answered. “Lua, sure, we could do it that way. I can appoint you and some other people, and maybe your, uh, project would grow faster. But.” She shifted her weight and shook her head. “Then I'd be in charge of the whole enterprise. Your staff, your budget, the content of your sessions. What if I decide to replace your taped messages with nothing but praise of me, Quircy Rau?” Her eyes opened wide and she straightened up. “Yeah! I really will! Great idea, Lua!”

“I'd like to retract my proposal.”

“Not a chance!”

“I'm retracting it, Quircy! Let me retract it!”

“Oh no you don't! I'll come down there. I'm coming down there!” Quircy jumped down from the hauler and ran to engage Lua in a productive dialogue. The crowd dissolved except for chunks around the new ministers, whether to clap them on the back or attempt assassinations, as the members considered the meeting to be at an end. They drifted off, leaving Metatron and Zimley Boe to watch Quircy and Lua's discussion.

“Need we intervene?”

“Are you kidding? The premiere of Harassers Excellent is in five minutes. I'm not getting between anything except couch cushions.”

“Oh, already? Retract anything you want and let's get going!”

“Thank you, Quircy. I'll take you up on your considerate offer.” Lua, Quircy, and Zimley skipped off, smiling, while Metatron stood, stunned that people really watched that schlock.