“No. In fact, I’m going to leave the play exactly as it is. I’ve decided instead to focus my energies towards being the Jurisfiction agent for all of Shakespeare’s works. I’ll have a go at Marlowe, too—but I’m not keen on Webster.”

“That’s excellent news,” I told him. “Jurisfiction will be very happy.”

He paused. “I’m still a bit annoyed that someone told Ophelia about Emma. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“On my honor.”

He got up, bowed and kissed my hand. “Come and visit me, won’t you?”

“You can count on it,” I replied. “Just one question: where on earth did you find Daphne Farquitt? She’s the recluse’s recluse.”

He grinned. “I didn’t. By the morning of the SuperHoop, I had managed to gather about nine people. There’s a limit to how much anti-Kaine sentiment you can muster going door to door in Swindon at two in the morning.”

“So there never was a Farquitt Fan Club?”

“Oh, I’m sure there is somewhere, but Kaine didn’t know it, now, did he?”

I laughed. “I’ve a feeling you’re going to be an asset to Jurisfiction, Hamlet. And I want you to take something with you as a gift from me.”

“A gift? I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those before.”

“No? Well, always a first for everything. I want you to have . . . Alan.”

“The dodo?”

“I think he’d be an invaluable addition to Elsinore Castle—just don’t let him get into the main story.”

Hamlet looked at Alan, who looked back at him longingly.

“Thank you,” he said with as much sincerity as he could. “I’m deeply honored.”

Alan went a bit floppy as Hamlet picked him up, and a few moments later they both vanished back to Elsinore, Hamlet to further continue his work as a career procrastinator, and Alan to cause trouble in the Danish court.

“Hello, Sweetpea.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“You did a terrific job over that SuperHoop. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good.”

“Did I tell you that as soon as Zvlkx got hit by that Number 23 bus, the Ultimate Likelihood Index of that Armageddon rose to eighty-three percent?”

“No, you never told me that.”

“Just as well really—I wouldn’t have wanted you to panic.”

“Dad, who was St. Zvlkx?”