Were they not beasts, I could almost pity them. I work now in an ecstatic rush, an opera insania. The fools have witlessly handed me their world. Their very existence. The parts they have provided are as primitive as stones. But they can be adapted. The transmitter will be crude. But I need only tickle the navigator’s detector, and I shall be free.
I have the tools now, the language and understanding to achieve my goals. All I need are more stulti, more fools to beguile, and I shall once again seize the whirlwinds of time.
Imperator, I will accept your bargain. Pay your price.
Nor, dear husband, shall you die abandoned in Aegyptus.
And as for the stulti and beasts? They have mere days remaining before my finely honed wrath is unleashed upon them.