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dianeduane(Loosely rendered from the Speech: from the [archival] Open Access Intervention Circular section of the Wizard’s Manual, current recension)
Intervention KRNC18663-48293-beta-mawein-9964. Precis (full post-sitrep attached)
JD 2455642.104167: Participants were requested by Stationmaster CICWGF to intervene in ongoing gate transport management-normalization arrangement (finalization of local gate emplacement and positioning agreement with joint authority of civil authorities managing outsystem transport for Mazjerath (AB Can Ven IIa). After brief pre-intervention consultation period with CICWGF staff, participants engaged with Mazjerathint authorities via Manual dialogue and reached initial placement and augmentation agreement.
Participants then transited to CICWGF (1) via SO3GCT (2) to confirm necessary authorizations and complete social elements of agreement implementation...
“Oh, it’s no big deal, he said. Nothing at all difficult involved, he said. Just go there and be really impressive, they’ll fall all over themselves to meet you because they read the news, don’t they? — but even more than that because you’re from Sol III and have this big fat rep because Earth’s so full of legacy gates and you’re a perfect example of how easy Crossings-connected gates are to work with. He said.” A furious pause. “Then just get them to sign off on the agreement, he said. No big deal.”
“I don’t get it. They seemed like such nice people.”
“He tried to pull my head off! Did you see that!”
“It didn’t look like your head he was aiming for.” And Nita finds it hard not to snicker.
“Thanks so much for reminding me! What the hell’s the matter with them?”
“I have no idea!”
“They’re really being a pain in the ass about this, what changed everything all of a sudden? They were fine when we were Manual chatting with them earlier, I thought this was just a formality — “
“When in doubt…” Nita mutters, pulls out her Manual, and tells it to light itself up. She does this because they are presently shut in a closet, the first place they could find after temporarily fleeing the council chamber to take refuge and try to work out what had gone so incredibly wrong and how to fix it.
Kit, for his own part, is deep in outrage. “Since when do people attack wizards? Are these guys nuts?”
“I’m beginning to wonder if they’re clear about the wizard end of things,” Nita says. “I’m wondering if they thought we were just more Crossings staff, located on Earth.” And this mistake could just be possible, as wizards are not the only people who use the Speech: numerous species use simplified non-enactive Speech recensions as languages of discourse.
She riffles through the Manual at best speed, looking over the previously-marked Mazjerathint pages and trying to work out what the heck she’s missed. Kit is looking over her shoulder, staring at the pages. One of them obligingly shows a shot of the council chamber in realtime, annotated, the various Mazjerathint labeled with their names, ranks and other vital data. She glances at it and then away again to the detailed summation of the negotiations so far, which have really been pretty uneventful, everything was going so well until —
Kit is reading over her shoulder, and he suddenly makes one of those suck-your-breath-in,-uh-oh noises. “Neets.”
“Got something?”
“I have this awful feeling—”
“Not as awful as they’re having out there, going by the sound of it!”
“I think…”
“What??”
“I think we’re the wrong colors.”
A stricken silence. “What?? How could that possibly— We’ve been doing visual chat, it’s not like they’ve never seen us before! They know perfectly well what colors we are! Like that should even matter to them, they’re aliens for pity’s sake, how do they even care about what—”
“No, seriously, Neets, this is it. I get it!”
“Well I don’t, so will you hurry up and enlighten me? They’re getting crazy out there!”
“It’s not our skins that’re the wrong colors. It’s our clothes.”
“What??”
“Look! Dammit, it’s right here in the Manual, I feel like an idiot now—”
“Don’t make me agree with you. What is the problem?”
“Look at the picture there. Look at their names. Their genders. Yeah? Now look at their clothes.”
A silence. Oh, no, Nita thought.
“Blue is one of the female colors here. Or what they have that passes for female.”
“This is a matriarchy, Kit, I’d watch how you use the word ‘passes’…”
“Yeah, and look at all the guys around the table. And what they’re wearing. Looks like green and red are for guys, or what passes for guys.”
“Oh God.”
“Yeah. And it looks like they're unfortunately not able to deal with crossdressing in a business context. …So you need to give me your sweater.”
Nita’s mouth drops open.“Are you completely— No way!”
“We’ve gotta swap. Right now.”
“Oh no! Nononononono. Look, we’ll just do a spell and change the clothes’ colors!”
“There’s no time. You can hear them out there! We start experimenting with color changes and get it wrong, we’re going to screw this up completely. Just get on with it! Come on—” A frustrated hiss. “Just give me your skirt.”
Nita’s mouth drops open again.
Kit just keeps going, already pulling off his sweatshirt. “Good thing that sweater’s oversized on you. And boy, I am so glad you didn’t wear jeans today, I’d never get into those.”
Nita gives him a look that (after the fact) Kit will probably find memorable. “I’m seriously unsure that this is anything that should make me happy for any reason whatsoever.”
“Will you please—“
“Yes. Fine. Turn around.”
“What? It’s not like when we were doing the Song—”
“Kit. Turn. AROUND!”
“Oh, all right…”
And then she snickers: she can’t help it. “It’s a good thing you’re such a snakehips—”
“You were complaining about that not three hours ago. Too skinny, you said. Looking like a beanpole, you said—”
“Shut up and give me your damn pants.”
“Are you actually hiding your eyes?”
“Not for a moment longer than it takes you to get those off.”
Clothing logistics then ensue: and following these, value judgments. “Oh, God, there is no way I look even human in these.”
“Excuse me? I look perfectly human in these.”
“Well, guess what, here comes the truth. I think they’re a dumb style. They make it impossible to tell what your legs look like, or even where they begin.”
“Matter of opinion.”
“Yes it is. That was just mine. Shut up and put on that skirt. I’ll avert my eyes.”
A snicker… and then an annoyed breath. “Stop averting already, I can’t get this thing fastened.”
“Here!”
“I can’t even see the damn fastening! If this isn’t even gonna stay up—”
“There’s a little hook right here.”
“Hurry up!!”
“Stop squirming, I’m not gonna touch anything.”
“I am going to be so embarrassed about this later, but right now will you just hurry up??”
“Done. Now shut up and help me on with this.”
And then the strangest, strangest sound: a strangled hoot of laughter.
“What?”
“Don’t— No, don’t, not there!”
“Are you— No, seriously, it can’t be!”
“Just come on and— Oh, no, no—!”
“You are ticklish!”
“No, I, I mean not really, it’s just that—”
“Yes you are! When did this start?”
“It’s, I don’t know, it just—”
“Are you ticklish here?”
“No, I just, no, I, hehehehehehehehehe oh no oh no oh don’t—”
“Or heeeeere?”
“Neets please—”
“Or maybe—”
“Cutitoutcutitoutcutitout!”
“Okay. Okay.”
A few moments spent getting everyone’s breath back. “Fine. Fine. You ready? Dressed enough?”
“For the moment. …But this—” She pokes him just lightly under one rib— “calls for further investigation.”
“Yeah, investigate all you like, if you think I’ll let you get the chance.” And a grin. “Anyway, now I’ve got a story to tell everybody about how I got under your skirt.”
“Uh huh. And I’ve got one about how I got into your pants.”
A moment’s silence. “Except… there’s no one we can tell.”
“Well, no nonwizards.”
“No wizards either.”
“Well, Tom—”
“I’d die sooner.”
“Ronan…”
“No, no, nononononono.” More laughter. “Though… Dairine?”
“Powers forbid, are you kidding? The Mobiles’d get it right off her and write it into the master Backup, into hard Manual storage. And in some far-distant future when the Sun’s a cinder and the Earth’s a memory, other sentient species will still know all about you wearing my skirt.”
They look at each other… and splutter with laughter again.
“So no stories?”
“Nope.”
“Come on, then,” Nita says. “Let’s get back in the room.”
And the two of them come out of the closet, and head back into the council chamber to finish taking care of business.
…Implementation confirmed and concluded without event. (submitted) Callahan, J.L., Rodriguez, C.K.
(reviewed) Swale, T.B., Supervisory
(Transit data appended)
Non-attached: Supervisory annotation: PM, TBS to JLC: You left the record function on. :)
