“No, Uncle Jack,” I said firmly.

“Oh come on, I’ve got this really cool hyper-hammer I’ve being dying to try out . . .”

“No, Uncle Jack! Have you stopped taking your medication again? Jane, what is that, exactly? What does it do?”

“Simple to operate,” she said, her voice dull and lifeless. Her eyes were drooping shut again as the last of her strength went out of her. “Just press the button, and . . . Boom.”

“No more tower?” I said hopefully.

“No more anything,” said Jane, blinking owlishly. “No more universe. And no, you don’t get a timer. The Deplorable End is a one-time-only deal. What I’ve got here is the original device, the prototype. We used a somewhat improved version to put an end to the demon war. What I’ve brought you is, therefore, technically speaking, untested. But it should work. No reason I know of why it shouldn’t.” She slowly lowered her hand, as though the awful thing squatting on her palm were getting heavier. “I stole this, from the Multiversal Mercenaries’ Black Museum. I had to kill a lot of people to get this to you, Eddie. Some of them were friends, once. But now I have closed the book and burned all my boats . . . I can never go back. So don’t you ever give me cause to regret this, Drood.”

“How does it work?” I said, because you have to say something.

“Like you’d understand, even if I could explain it,” said Janissary Jane, with some of her old force in her voice. “I don’t need to know how weapons work. I’m a mercenary, not a mechanic. But I’m told it’s a largely conceptual weapon. What we’ve got here is a hyperspatial key, activating the real weapon, which is hidden away in some other dimensional fold, just waiting to be unleashed. When pressed, the button on the box gives the weapon the target coordinates and . . . Boom! There you have it. Or rather, there you suddenly don’t. One less universe to trouble the gaze of God. The Deplorable End, for everyone and everything.”

“But, basically, it’s just an untested prototype,” I said carefully. “So there is a small but nonetheless definite chance that it might not, actually, work? As such?”

“It’s a last resort,” Janissary Jane said tiredly. “When you’ve tried absolutely everything, and the Hungry Gods are coming through to eat all there is that lives . . . then the Deplorable End is your last chance for revenge. A way to take the bastards down with you, and to make sure no other universes will have to face the horrors we did.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion finally took her. I gingerly took the gleaming metal box from her hand and had her taken away to the infirmary to get some rest. By the time she woke up, I hoped, it would all be over, one way or another. Though, if things went really bad, it might be a mercy if she never woke up . . .