Irish was still less than moved. “If Heherson was raising the dead, that would be… wow. Doesn’t that require a lot to pull off?”

“Sure.” Tim looked from Irish’s thoughtful expression down to the mug of cocoa she placed in front of him. “Even some of the most practiced necromancers wouldn’t be able to do that sort of shit. My dad wouldn’t be able to, even if he wanted.”

She sat across from him, propping her chin in her hands. “That’s impressive.”

“I think you’re missing the point.”

“How could I miss the point?” Her mood switched quickly. “You know I have a meeting! I won’t be able to carry through it all if the zombie apocalypse is going on? How would anyone concentrate? How would everyone get to work?”

That depended on what the mass uprising of corpses got up to, but Tim didn’t know if they could do anything more than be a nuisance and cause the havoc of the usual mindless horde. “I think even your meeting, as important as it is and as well as I hope it goes, is also the least of our concerns. Big picture, Ai. The city will be completely destroyed if every dead thing comes back to life. Or animation.”

He really couldn’t remember if he’d even learned any of the specifics about this, other than how to recognize when the dead were being raised.