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[Apocalyptic M. Soupiest]

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I try not to be, I told him. There could be no doubt. The decoded message turned out not to be as bad as I had imagined. Id had mine. Any of the nobility could be crowned, and whenever the old kings grip weakened it was a cue for a power struggle that would produce the new monarch. As the nose plugs and cheek pads slipped into place and the dye seeped into my hair I sighed and relaxed with happiness, an old warhorse getting back on the job. All my clothes nextand then the girdle in reversethat lovely paunch that straps around my belly and holds twenty kilos of lead mixed with thermite. Prodding my conscience to see how soft it is.