Help Mister Wizard

"So," Tate said, leaning against the edge of the cluttered workbench. "Do you want to tell me about this latest masquerade of yours?"

Running his hand over a stack of books, coming to rest against a fat volume, Jane's All the World's Ordnance, 1989-90. He stared back at Tate, unblinking.

"Say, Boris, don't you think it's time you had some help?" Tate queried.

"I came for an answer," U said.

Tate laughed. "Well sorry, son, looks like you came to the wrong place altogether."

U picked up the book. It was quite heavy. Ponderous.