“Cubs fan,” John muttered. The Chicagoan’s curse. Sandoz pushed a towel aside, eyes wide. “How bad?” “Anybody can have a couple of lousy centuries.” “I guess. Wow.” Sandoz let the towel fall back into place. There was a thoughtful silence. “Well, that explains why Giuliani brought you over.” Suddenly John heard the Father General’s voice saying: “Voelker, I need someone to take care of a hopeless wreck coming back from Rakhat. Get me a Cubs fan!”
