Subject: "In this, perhaps, I am more fortunate than others."
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Posted on: 2015-05-22 09:06:00 UTC
"My good lady wife," Algernon continued as he walked with the Guardsman, "is the gentlest, kindest soul in all of England, and equally, alas, one of the most incurious. Agamemnon, now, he would be more inquisitive, but... ah! I have it.
"I shall them them this: that I have been requested, as is often the case for gentleman magicians, to aid His Majesty's Government in a most secret business; and this is all that I might say, for fear of breaking my sworn oath to the Crown. And is this not true? I am given to understand our organization is charged with the protection of all things, though the meaning of your words is occasionally occluded; logically, this includes His Britannic Majesty George IV and all he surveys. Thus, it is not only my privilege, but my duty to enrol as a member of your society, and see how a friend of English magic may become a dear friend to you all."
Algie was summarily presented with a bevy of forms, which he signed with great flourish after being explained how to use the datapads ("Ah! A stylus, of course! In no dissimilar way to the manner in which Homer and his contemporaries inscribed their words upon sheets of pressed beeswax before the advent of the scroll!"). He then pressed the Guardsman closely for more advice. "Sir Guardsman, I beg one last indulgence, if I may.
"You have spoken to me many times of being a "blip" from a "fic", and now that I am more aware of what this implies... are we real? My wife and child, my estate, my books - are they too real? Or were we merely shadows upon the wall of a cave, dancing to the tune of some unseen master. So many here... they seem to have been pulled from stories and games meant for children! The pleasant Technician with the Oriental caste to her features mentioned the "benders" of her race, powerful sorcerors all and worthy of the utmost respect - but it transpires that they were conceived by a parade of Johnathons for a kind of automated zoetrope. Am I, too, a child's passing fancy? What am I?"