Random Fragments 02

Having seen, or at least read about, great areas of the multiverse, Toby knew that making absolute statements was a bad idea. Never, she had learned, describe something as the biggest, loudest, fastest or most expensive ... sure as billable hour quotas, you would find out the next day that there was something bigger, faster or even more expensive. Logic, however, sometimes did not count for much compared to emotion, and at this point Toby was quite willing to say that there was nothing sadder in the multiverse than a dragon with a head cold.

She managed to spend the first day in bed, head hanging out the window so that errant blasts of sneeze driven flame did not damage to anything but a few intrepid tendrils of ivy that had made it past the fifth floor. One day was good, but six or seven would have been optimal. Six or seven, however, were not going to happen with the joint taskmasters of Happy (senior partner this week) and Nanowrimo shouting at her conscience ... well Nano shouted at her conscience, Happy hacked down the door and shouted at her in person. Much harder to ignore that way.

Sparing a bemused though for how Happy explained the firm's overhead in door replacements to the tax gnomes, Toby slithered down to her office to at least pretend to be doing something billable.

After the second time an errant sneeze charred the pages of the factum she was drafting, Toby realized that she would have to make some changes to her office if she was going to continue to work.

A call down to stores found a large heat-proof screen that would cover the bulk of the bookcases, and any brownies that were too silly to leave in the face of Rhino virus Draconis Rufus. Shoving the desk around gave her clear paths towards both the open window and the fireproof cleansing area.

The medical department were eager to supply a continual stream of kevlar hot water bottles, suitable for wrapping around a long and scaly neck. They clearly understood that having a junior nurse running around with hot water bottles caused far less disruption than a dragon taking up most of the beds in the infirmary.

Only the call to the commissary department for hot toddies went awry. The server returned with several gallons of black coffee and a curt note form Happy stating that in her medical opinion this would be far better for Toby's working ability than mere lemon juice and rum.

The coffee helped more than Toby expected, clearing her mind – if not her sinuses – and easing her throat. It also helped her concentrate, a necessary skill since she was trying to work while the carpenters clear away the remnants of the old door and argued with each other as to whether it was worth installing a proper solid core oak replacement, or just something cheap and quick since Happy would likely be hacking the new door apart within the week.

Finally the workers were done, and Toby could write in peace. The Factum – a ridiculous document attempting to persuade the courts of the obvious logical fallacy of applying building codes to magical structures. She couldn't see why it was necessary, a building code, after all, should only apply to things that were built. Not grown, extruded, polymorphed or conjured.

Given that the case was coming before the courts in Bupleureum, it was pretty obviously meddling by the ex-royals in yet another attempt to grab control over what used to be their demesne.

Still and all, the best way to lose a case was to avoid participating in it so that the judge had to rule against you. On that basis alone, her work on this argument was perhaps not wasted. There was some satisfaction to be taken from the work, as well. The clients, a naiad, a dryad, and two cavern dwelling dwarves, had been shocked to receive notices from the town council stating that they must bring their shelters up to code (this requiring the addition of several window or one, and at least two permanent doors), or pay a rather huge fine and have the homes declared unfit for habitation and torn down.

Toby wasn't quite sure whether it was the heat of her argument, or the heat of her fever that carried her through to the end of the argument. Some part of her suspected that she should review the factum before filing it... the part that remembered scrawling something about any judge with an intelligence higher than that of a retarded newt could clearly understand the arrant idiocy of opposing counsel's position. But that was a small part compared to her general relief at getting the factum completed, so, folding it into an intricate origami ball, she tossed it into the opening of the tubes that lead to the office mail system.

First task completed, Toby turned to her desk calendar to attempt to figure out what her next priorities might be. NaNoWrimo loomed large on her list, new clients were due that day or the next, depending on when the arrived on Uber Celestia, and there were several meetings scheduled that she ought to be doing research for.

Looking at her NaNo file, Toby realized that she had left it in mid tale. The Rhino virus hitting her before she could finish unwinding the red tape of Sealohkant.

***

It was easy to remember her ebullience on completing the transaction, and her gambolling and pirouetting on the way back to her client. Equally easy to remember the alarums and screams that met her when she got there. The client was – and this was the first time Toby had seen someone actually do this – running (undulating swiftly, at any rate) in circles, screaming and shouting. The rest of the office was equally in an uproar. One of the lawyers had dissolved into a puddle of tears, with eye stalks protruding from it's centre. The others, not quite so affected, were undulating backward and forward gabbling bits of legal Latin interspersed with their own language and metaversal common.

Toby waded into the furor, trying to calm her client – or at least get him to stand still long enough for her to understand the problem. It took several minutes, a bit of flame, and half a dozen wing buffets before the client could be understood. As best Toby could fathom, a messenger had arrived before her, bearing a missive from opposing counsel. A bit more yelling, and Toby figured out that the message itself was likely under the puddle. Fishing it out, Toby read:

"Estimable colleagues, I regret having to inform you that the real estate transaction regarding the property commonly known as Third Radian, Fifth Sector, Valence Secundus, the legal title of which is Sealohkant Radians Tertius, Lot quinque millia septem centi decem quattuor scripulum, has been cancelled as the terms and conditions were not properly fulfilled. Specifically section 29, paragraph 637, sub-paragraph zzqd, clause mmcmlxiv, dealing with payment, has not been honoured, as we have not received full payment of the funds required, in the contracted form."

Toby's legs weakened, and she almost sat on her erstwhile colleague. She knew that they had assembled the full purchase price. She knew that she had delivered it all to the bank. They had counted it four times before leaving and ten times at the bank – with signatures from the appropriate officials each time it was counted. There could not be any discrepancies, she was absolutely positive of this.

"We need to send a messenger – or, no, I'm faster, I should go myself. There must be some mistake in this, calm down and I will return with an explanation, and a completed transaction, shortly."

This time, Toby did not gambol or pirouette. Her flight was direct, and as quick as she could make it through the damp Sealoh air. Skidding to a stop outside the bank, Toby slithered inside shouting for the Senior Manager. That worthy undulated into the lobby and ducked apprehensively as it saw Toby stance and snarl.

"How may I assist your scary dragonness? We were truly honoured by your dragonage of our humble establishment, and we are certain that we took all possible care to dot every zigle, and cross every pizot. Have we left some detail undone? Have we somehow disappointed your scariness? Ma'am?"

Toby wasn't sure she could speak without flaming, she certainly couldn't remember being this angry outside of battle before, in fact her arm shook as she extended one claw with the message impaled upon it.

The manager extended an appendage, also shaking, but with fear rather than rage. Taking the missive it gingerly brought it to a quivering eye stalk. The combination of quivering appendage and quivering eye stalk slowed its reading speed, but reading contracts was such a regular part of its life that it nevertheless managed to figure out the problem before Toby could explode.

"But, but, Your Dragonness, we counted the payment. I counted it myself, I signed for it, I NEVER sign unless the money is all there, heck I never sign unless ... well ... unless it is for such an honourable creature as you, Your Dragonitude."

"Sssso," Toby gritted out between tightly clenched teeth, "then where did the money go?"

"It went directly into the vendor's account. I can show you the ledgers. Vendor was here, it counted everything too, we got its signature. In quintuplicate."

"Hmph. Then. What. Went. Wrong?!?"

"Do you have the contract with you, Your Dragonness? If I might examine it, possibly I could tell what went wrong."

Fishing under her scales, Toby began removing the volumes of the contract. Even with several interdimensional pockets, it took Toby sixteen scales to carry the complete contract. The Senior Manager did not appear daunted by the size of the document, and merely exuded more appendages, and more eyes, to deal with the multiple volumes.

"Section 29, paragraph 637, sub-paragraph zzqd, clause mmcmlxiv, specifies that the payment of 17.3% of the total – the amount covering offerings due to the Great Symbiont and the municipal taxes – is to be paid in bonds. If I remember correctly, your Dragonness, you brought that part of the payment in electral coin. Not exactly the same."

"Bonds are guaranteed to be cashable into electral coin, the whole point of the Bond is that it has a guarantee, why in the name of all that is holy would it not be acceptable to provide coin instead?"

"Contracts are holy. First there was the Word, and the Word was Written, and the Writing was bound in Red Tape, then the Word became Contract, and the Contract was the World, and the Contract is all that is Holy. Each Word is there by the grace of the Writer, and the grace of the Reader is to follow each Word in its ordinary meaning. Unless, of course, the rules of interpretation indicate otherwise. If you do not follow the Words, the Contract becomes meaningless, and to honour a Contract that has been thus breeched would be to violate the Word, the Writing, the Red Tape, and indeed, all that is Holy."

"So, the word is more important than the principle? In principle the coin was better than a bond."

"We do not understand principles, other than the principle of the sovereignty of the Contract."

"But, it has the money."

"Not in the form required by the Contract."

Toby shakes her head, frowning in disbelief. "This makes no sense."

"The way of the Contract is the only way that does make sense. Always look to the Words, to the Contract, and all will be clear."

"Can I purchase bonds in the correct amount from you?"

"Of course, our establishment is entirely at your service, most honourable one. If you have coin we will sell you bonds, certified cheques, traveller's cheques, or currencies from several other planes."

Toby dug under another scale, withdrawing several bars of electrum, and handing them to the Senior Manager, which passed them on to a more junior manager, from which they were passed several times until reaching a teller of suitably low rank to actually do the work of filling out the bonds. The process began to reverse itself, with the bonds, duly signed, countersigned and stamped, being handed back up the ranks. Unwilling to wait, Toby grabbed them from a Senior teller, nodded a brusque "Thank you" to the manager, and slithered out of the bank.

Taking to the air, Toby quickly winged towards the office of the vendor's lawyer. Although she skidded to a stop outside the office, her entrance was all calmness – at least on the exterior. Bowing and invoking the stance of humble, but determined, petitioner, Toby requested the honour of speaking with the Senior Partner, the being she thought of as opposing counsel.

"As a wholly hypothetical question, would specific performance of the full and proper terms of the contract, be sufficient to keep open the transaction, that was, due entirely to my inadvertent and well intentioned but erroneous mistake in payment, cancelled?"

The Senior Partner pulled in all appendages and rolled backward and forward in deep thought. "Perhaps, in a hypothetical circumstance, were the bonds immediately available, I might consider accepting them and considering the transaction properly closed."

"Amazingly, dear friend, I seem to have some suitable bonds right here, duly issued, signed and countersigned. Should you consider examining them, perhaps you might deem these a satisfactory step towards conclusion."

Extruding several appendages, opposing counsel moved close enough to take the documents, then undulated back out of Toby's reach. It riffled through the banker's bonds, examining them carefully. "These seem to be in order. I suppose that all things considered my client would be satisfied to take these and consider the Contract fulfilled."

Toby smiled, baring as many teeth as she could, and