Come, it can't do any harm, anyway. After all, I haven't anything against God. Only He oughtn't to interfere with business. Have you tried negotiating with Him in a friendly spirit?"
"No," admitted the engineer.
"That was a mistake," said Bondy dryly. "Perhaps you could come to some agreement with Him. A proper formal contract, in something like this style: 'We guarantee to produce You discreetly and continuously to an extent to be fixed by mutual agreement; in return for which You pledge yourself to refrain from any divine manifestations within such and such a radius from the place of origin.' What do you think—would He consider these terms?"
"I don't know," answered Marek uneasily. "He seems to have a decided inclination in favour of becoming independent of matter once more. Still, perhaps . . . in His own interests . . . He might be willing to listen. But don't ask me to do it."
"Very well, then!" Bondy agreed. "I'll send my own solicitor. A very tactful and capable fellow. And then again . . . er . . . . one might perhaps offer Him some church or other. After all, a factory cellar and its surroundings are rather . . . well . . . undignified quarters for Him. We ought to ascertain His tastes. Have you tried yet?"
