Ready?” she asked him, tensed to fling the doors open as though the correct way to go before God was to burst in like a SWAT team. “Insofar as there is any way to ready myself for an audience with an unknown entity referring to itself as God,” Uncharles said, “I am ready.” “You use more words when you’re nervous,” she noted. “You ever realise that?” “For a variety of reasons involving the limits of my programming it is not possible for that to be the case,” Uncharles replied with dignity. “Perhaps you will render the door into an open configuration now?”
