Whispers Under Ground

Was it better to die in the illusion of sunshine and warmth or face death in a cold darkness of reality? Was it better to die in happy ignorance or terrified knowledge? The answer, if you’re a Londoner, is that it’s better not to die at all.

As Conan the Barbarian famously said, “That which does not kill us does not kill us.”

Low sample size—one of the reasons why magic and science are hard to reconcile.

Like young men from the dawn of time, I decided to choose the risk of death over certain humiliation.

You don’t actually know enough about me to insult me properly.

“Fortunately,” said Nightingale, “seeing isn’t always believing.”

So just chalk it up to pixie dust or quantum entanglement, which was the same thing as pixie dust except with the word “quantum” in it.

I looked at Lesley—surely nobody could really be that stupid? She shrugged. Lesley has a much lower opinion of humanity than I do.

It was a good plan, and like all plans since the dawn of time, this would fail to survive contact with real life.

“The scope of your ignorance, Peter,” said Seawoll, “is truly frightening.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“Yes.”

“Which as usual,” said Seawoll, “is as about as useful as a chocolate teapot.”