The result was a tower that actively wanted what you’d expect a tower wants: to stand and protect the city. But given a will, and an unknown set of unique, elemental powers, it was now going to be making its own decisions about what constituted “protecting” Spacerock.
Isaac tilted his head, but said nothing.
“My problem with the tower is that the Signamancy there isn’t great. It says something to me like ‘this is an old god you have awakened, mortal! Bewaaaaare!” He made a spooky hands gesture. “There is currrrrse! You meddle in powers you do not comprehennnd-ah!”
“Perhaps that’s a good form of Signamancy to have, Lord,” said Maggie, “for a city sentinel. Perhaps the curse is upon our enemies.”
“I guess so.”
“Chief Gotti,” said Isaac, “If we never meddled in power we did not comprehend, how would we ever gain comprehension?”
Parson pursed his lips. The Headmaester pretty much had him there. Nuclear weapons and killer bees and shoes with toes aside, science was the way to go. And the tower had been his own experiment.
“Okay,” he said clapping his hands to his knees. “Fine. I won’t worry about it. Let’s move on to the other think I wanted to talk to you about.”
Isaac tilted his head again, and smiled an easy smile. “Yes?”
The Headmaster’s bright and friendly face turned so quickly dark that it was like seeing an emotional eclipse.
“Because they do not,” he said quietly, “as far as we are concerned.”