I've got a list of names | Glowfic Constellation

Afen is disappointed in the universe. He bounds back and forth across his room explaining why to his wife, his infant granddaughter, the end table, and a reporter flabbergasted by her good luck and cringing silently against the wall in the hopes he won't remember she's there.

"There is no reason to suppose that a species evolving independently of Amentans, with their own evolutionary history and living mammalian species likely related to theirs, would end up looking like us. None. Every explanation every scientist has ventured to the press has been unimaginative and unconvincing retroactive refitting of bad models to baffling data. Aliens shouldn't look like us but with different hair colors. Aliens that are not made out of carbon at all would be unsurprising; aliens with only as much physiological dissimilarity as exists between us and animal species on our planet would be mildly surprising; aliens with opposable thumbs would be truly remarkable. This is not remarkable and biologically enlightening; this is just inconsistent with everything we understand about the universe. It doesn't teach us new things about evolution; it should make us rethink evolution. - don't quote that part, they'll take it out of context."

Reporter nods rapidly.

"All of that said, I've picked up three of the languages and I'm working on building a good machine translator, it's a challenge with as little as they've produced in the way of electronic records. I'm absolutely going there to meet them as soon as the politicians figure out what to do with themselves."

"Do you have any predictions about that?"

"About politics? Why would I have predictions about politics? They deliberately obscure relevant information, for one thing, and for another it's deathly boring."

"- I mean, sir, surely you hear from your son about -"

"I have seven children and some of them are very dense indeed but not quite dense enough to try to interest me in politics."

"I was referring to -"

"I know who you were referring to. If you want a statement from Aitim go bother Aitim."

"Thank you for your time."

"I did not alter my activities in response to your presence and therefore you can't yet be said to have wasted any of my time though you should go before you do."

...out skitters the reporter.

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She goes home with it and brings it back. "The exact same thing happened!"

...electronics staff is baffled. "Are you sure you're not, uh, dipping it in water, holding it right next to a powerful magnet, exposing it to extremely high temperatures or something..."

"No, I'm putting it in my pocket, going home, taking it out, and attempting to take a picture of my owl."

" - okay. Would you like us to have a technician accompany you home and see if they can figure out what's going on?"

"No, I can't have visitors."

"...all right. In that case I think we'll just issue you a refund. I'm so, so sorry for the inconvenience. I've never heard of anything like this before and we'll definitely have a research team take a look at it."

She sighs.

"Oh," says someone from across the room, "I think I know what's going on, I had a similar problem."

"...sir?"

"I live in a geologically unusual area and it fries my electronics. I think she might live in a geologically unusual area too." Nod. He is not even trying at Muggle clothes.

"...Oh. So if I take it to a less geologically unusual area," she says, glancing at his robes, "and bring my owl there, I should be able to make it work?"

"Taking it there might be really inconvenient, I suspect travelling too fast with them causes the same kind of problem."

"I have never heard of that," says the sales guy.

"But it works fine if it's not near any geological irregularities or brought there in irregular ways, yeah. We're having some people redo the walls of our house in case that helps."

" - there's no way that would help."

"I've encountered this problem before, and you haven't."

"...sure, sir."

"...what kind of redoing the walls is necessary exactly -"

"Assuming it works for us when it's done I'll get it published in The Theoretical Journal of, uh, walls. Since it's the walls that are the problem."

The salesman whimpers.

"Which issue of the," sigh, "Theoretical Journal of Walls would this be -"

"Two hundred thirty third, the November one."

"Mm-hm, thank you."

"I'm sorry we couldn't be of more assistance," says the salesperson.

"It doesn't seem to be your problem, it's just my, ah, dratted walls."

" - yes, ma'am. You have a nice day."

She takes her refund and goes home.

Confused purples and the security Aitim arranged them continue to sell wood and plants and so on to anyone who asks. The sales guy takes to asking people with malfunctioning devices "do you live in a geologically unusual area? If so, electronics will explode on you. There's apparently a fix in the Theoretical Journal of Walls, November edition."

Customers with inexplicable device failures find this very helpful.