I didn't care for the notion of the Defense Department dealing with Beelzebub, either. I know the Pentagram has the best wizards in the world, but they're only human. Leave out a single line - by God, misplace a single comma - and you're liable to have hell on earth.

I looked back toward the place where I'd seen a whole lot of nothing when I was coming up the protected (I hoped) walk toward Sudalds' office. From this angle, it didn't look any different from the rest of the dump. I thought about mentioning it to Sudakis, but didn't bother; he probably saw enough weird things in the course of a week to last an ordinary chap with an ordinary job a lifetime or two.

Besides, that thought gave rise to another: "How often do you run across synergistic reactions among the spells that get dumped here?"

"It does happen sometimes, and sometimes it's no fun at all when it does." He rolled his eyes to show how big an understatement that was. "Persian spells are particularly bad for that, for some reason, and there's a large Persian community here in the Valley - refugees from the latest secularist takeover, most of them. When their spiritual elements fused with some from a Baghdad! candy-maker's preservation charm, of all the unlikely things-"

I drew my own picture. It wasn't pleasant. Shia and Sunni magic are starkly different but argue from the same premises. That makes the minghngs worse when they happen: as if Papists and Protestants used the same dump in Ireland.

The Confederation is a melting pot, all right, but sometimes the pot wants to melt down.

I didn't see anything else about which to question Sudakis, so I went back down the spiral stairs. He followed, pausing only to shut the trap door over our heads. As we walked back to his office, I said, "I'll be back with the warrant as soon as I can: in the next couple of days, anyhow."