"Dear."

"It doesn't make any sense. On television black-haired aliens were a narrative convention for people who were visibly not Amentan but still had body language we could parse and the physiology to use the same kinds of spaces and buildings and technologies as us, no one thought we'd find people on another planet who were literally just like us with black hair. - I know the verdict's still out on skeletal structure and things but they're more like us than makes any sense."

"Sweetheart, slow down for a minute and ask yourself if that was the part of your conduct I was most likely to be mildly objecting to."

"Aitim will appreciate that I wasn't making political statements on his behalf!"

"That's not it either. Slow down more."

His tablet chimes. He switches languages for the benefit of the grandbaby, who is here for exposure to Cenemi and Tapap. "I wasn't rude to her. Blunt, yes, but not rude."

"Still wrong. In any domain aside from the interpersonal you are surprised when you make several wrong guesses in a row! It prompts curiosity about what is wrong with your model!"

"There are aliens!!!!"

"I think it would have been appropriate to mention that we don't really know all that much about the aliens yet and the planet seems too close to its sun for us to season properly and that calls to conquer and govern them are premature."

"They're not sure about the planet, it's borderline. - but yeah. I should maybe have mentioned that." He sits down and reaches for the baby.

Baby Sisheka, purple-haired and rosy-cheeked. "Aitim would find it really helpful if he could occasionally send you things to say to make sure we're presenting a united front but he doesn't do that because he thinks you'll resent it or complain about it to a reporter or something."

"Nose," says Afen solemnly to Sisheka, who is trying to grab it. "My nose. Your nose. Grandma's nose -" and then on through the Cenemi third-person pronouns by caste, that-purple's nose and that-orange's nose and that-yellow's nose. "I might complain about that to a reporter. All this work was meant to cut myself free of politics, not to give it even more grounds to press in on us."

"I know. And it might really be that conquering the planet is the best thing. But - you give people a tool you owe some thought to how they're using it."

"Aitim'll figure it out."

The planet had more land area than theirs and a preindustrial population. Just under a billion worldwide. They hadn't invented birth control. They mostly hadn't invented castes. They hadn't invented sanitation, though they were otherwise more sophisticated than what you'd expect of a people content to live in their own sewage - gunpowder weapons, astronomy, mathematics. They were gripped by nationwide superstitions and wars over them.

And they had so much land.

The ship that discovered it was an international venture, a cooperative project of fifty different countries, launched from one of the moons. There'd been a few fistfights aboard the ship on the way home, predictably. Everybody wants it.

Aitim feels like Anitam has the strongest claim, what with having invented FTL and also having a track record of successful handling of pollution problems in a humane and responsible manner. If there are two species there are probably more of them, and some are likely to be unimpressed if Amentans have a track record of mass slaughter of anyone weaker than them who they run across. 

Other countries feel like if Anitam wants to be responsible for managing a native population in exchange for first planet this is not wholly unreasonable but given that their whole species's galactic reputation is on the line they should have foreign observers and should not get second or for that matter fiftieth planet even if it turns out most habitable planets are more seasonable and less infested.

(They do some quiet estimation of how likely most habitable planets are to be more seasonable and less infested.)

Subsequent international expeditions will of course be prioritizing other countries with no current outlet for emigration but if their own explorers find some place they'll of course settle it themselves. 

Cene reminds them that Cene was promised second planet and this one is counting as first planet even if Anitam finds the next one all by themselves.

Fine. 

International observers are going to have a bad time until sanitation is set up, the new planet's cities might literally all be unclean. 

They can wear those Orvaran hazmat suits.

Anitam can't guarantee the safety of observers in Orvaran hazmat suits (but would obviously appropriately prosecute anyone who causes them harm), the aliens are likely to resent being conquered at least for the first couple years and the imposition of population controls has no chance of being popular.

The observers accept this risk and probably won't usually be out in the streets where there would be violence.

Anitam announces that they have a planet. It seems like some people may season there fine and some may not; once the planet is clean it will be straightforward to go find out. They're going to be building a lot of infrastructure for a long time, it's a lot of landmass and low tech. Persons interested in immigration can apply online and describe relevant skills; the planet will have a separate credit auction because it's going to need a different caste balance.

They are swamped with millions of applications.

"Tempted?" he asks his wife.

"I'd have to manage the domestic business remotely and everything'd be polluted and what about schools for the girls - but I'm sure there are a million inefficiencies in all their production lines..."

"I know, right."

"Is your father going? He can probably just tutor them in everything they can't learn from written material."

"Yeah, they'd have quite a time stopping him. I bet he'd be delighted to tutor the girls."

"And if they want music - well, is Makel going, I don't see that he has any reason to -"

"I don't think so. No internet, he'd perish of lack of attention. We could probably find some music tutors who'd be ecstatic to come along."

"Or art, if they want art. Hala's never cared much for it but Kaloa might decide she likes it more than as an occasional hobby at any time and who knows about Sisheka. Who knows? Who knows, not me and not you!" (This last to Sisheka, who is across the room in Hala's arms making Hala's first spring much pleasanter.)

"I bet we'll have our pick of both if we can get them clearance to go be colonists. Though there'll be a lot of turnover while people figure out who seasons properly. I was thinking we could stay most of this year even if we don't get lucky with the seasons, spring with Sisheka'll be fine."

"That makes sense. I can bring a bunch of my more promising yellow staff, leave any who season right behind even if we have to go."

"Sounds good!"

Isama picks out staff who will be able to assemble Assemble by themselves on a colony planet even if she leaves and want to go.

Afen gets his machine translation working adequately and teaches French classes to packed auditoriums with a million people following along online.

"What do you think, should we go?"

"It's certainly interesting but I don't know that blue credits in particular will be any cheaper there than here and they may not have much demand for judges. I suppose we could apply and let them make that judgment - I doubt credits are more expensive there -"

"I was thinking land would be cheaper, one might end up more or less owning a whole country if they administered it well and had cousins in high places. And we'll need to enforce the laws for the locals, right?"

"...yes, land's probably going for next to nothing, there's so much and only so many ni in the economy... The locals don't have castes, it'll probably be structured all differently. I suppose retraining sounds interesting and I might as well get in on the ground floor."

"We're probably gonna caste the locals once we know how but I'm sure it'll be interesting in the meantime." Kiss. 

"I hope we season correctly or Asame'll spring unpredictably."

"Maybe we can see about putting the resources together for a third credit around the time when she might."

"I'll be eighteen. I hope it comes together by then."

"I mean, we have the money, right, just wouldn't have anything to leave them. If we have a country to leave them..."

She nods.

"I want to run it."

"Really? They're gonna hate you."

"The locals? Yeah, but - doing it well will be a substantial difference."

Nod.

It's nearly bloodless. 

They do a country at a time; they have planes fly in low and in formation and drop letters in the local language, explaining. 

In Portugal the planes go down. The locals shouldn't have had weapons that could do that. Greys who follow up on foot die; it's not apparent of what.

Anitam calls in an airstrike on the palace. It is neat and has no casualties outside it and there are no further problems.

(In Paris Elio feels suddenly unwell and leaves without explanation.)

Which is rather the last thing on his mind. He Portkeys home holding the French version of the explanatory note.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. Who had an explanation."

He sputters for a few seconds, gives up, hands her the note - "do you read French -"

"No."

"Someone else conquered France. An hour ago. They - they flew in with very fast high-precision metal things which I think were just to intimidate us and drop the notes, which say that -" takes the note back - "there's a new government, its agents have colored hair and will be installing infrastructure and landing fields for their devices and distributing payment to laborers who show up to assist with this and to advisors who show up to cooperate with the transfer of the work of governance to their control, they will execute people for acts of violence against their operatives, distinguishable with the colored hair, they have advanced medicine and technology and expect that they can greatly increase lifespans, decrease disease, and make our cities safe, stable and peaceful. Local laws should be understood to remain in force."

"...colored hair."

"No idea whether that's just so they'll be visually distinct or what. Didn't see any - seemed unwise to be hopping around, they've got to be wizards or have wizards assisting -"

"Who are they? Like - where are they from -"

"Says 'Anitam'. I've never heard of it. Perhaps there will be future clarifying notes falling from the sky."

"I've never heard of it either. Is that all it says, not - where they're going to install things, or what's next, or why -"

"It has where they're adding things" he reads her sites in France. "Airport, railroads, medical clinics, spaceport, administrative center, temporary housing where the population of these specific neighborhoods of Paris can be relocated while they replace infrastructure - ...doesn't say why."

"Replace it? - does temporary housing sound to you like something that might mean 'show up and get shot' -"

"A little. - more than a little."

"Is it the same people causing the weird news from everywhere -"

"- what other weird news have you been hearing -"

"Karen's family has a portrait who can travel to one in South Africa, Nnenne Flooed to say she was asked to send the children home from school early by the Ministry who'd heard from Canada - that's three continents -"

"Well. Maybe we should expect raining letters pretty soon - how -"

"I don't know!"

"It doesn't make any sense to conquer the Muggle world and leave us out of it - most of their interference is going to be wizards -"

"Both Canada and South Africa it was just the flying silver things and the dropped leaflets. No contact to the Ministries at all."

" - could they not know - they can't be Muggles but -"

"- why exactly can't they be -"

"A wizarding society that was working on it and waiting for Statute relaxation could pull the flying things off. Muggles just couldn't."

"It's not even that relaxed yet! If they were waiting -"

"Why stop waiting? I have no idea. What do they need Muggle laborers for? I have no idea. Why do they want to replace parts of Paris? - might be worth collecting a bunch of the letters and figuring out common features of the places whose people they are displacing -"

"I guess we'll get more news soon - doing anything before we know what's going on could be really dangerous - have they hurt anyone?"

"Hadn't when I left. The note says they'll execute people for violence against their operatives, though, and that's going to - some people are definitely going to fight back -"

"Yeah."

"And they don't need to, if they have the capabilities they're suggesting they have, they could comfortably imprison them - guess they might be lying -"

"Could be a bluff, could be they know about wizards but aren't letting on but don't want to bother trying to contain us."

"I'm not going to try anything. Unless they start killing people indiscriminately, I guess."

"Indiscriminately in particular."

"France was already guillotining everyone they were presently annoyed with, I didn't intervene in that."

"If they decide they want to kill specifically all the black people in South Africa -"

"Yeah, all right. If they're killing anyone who breaks their laws, we - figure out what to do. If they're just killing people, then I guess we - coordinate a response. - Elio went home. Looked really unwell, it wasn't at the top of my mind but it'd be useful to have his help - unless he had something to do with it -"

"Unwell like how?"

"He didn't get a note or anything just - collapsed - his people took him home I was distracted it didn't look like poison but I don't know -"

"Hrm."

"I'm going to go to my grandfather's."

"Be safe."

"Uh huh."

Britain gets a flyover and notes. They plan on 'replacing infrastructure' in most major cities, apparently.

"But nothing over Hogwarts, nothing addressed to the Ministry -"

"I want to write my family and see if they'll come here to ride this out - is there room -"

"Of course there's room. We'll make room if we need to."

She squeezes him and goes to write a letter.

"Maybe they are time-travelling Muggles. You could do flight with just technology."

"Are you sure?"

" - no? Yesterday it was more in 'hey, anything's possible' territory - but I think so -" he glances at Finis.

      "Well, birds exist and aren't magic."

"The things were gliding."

"Gliding's easier than flying. I don't know."

Rebecca comes back with a letter for her family.

"Want me to go drop it off? I feel like an owl won't be appreciated."

"They wouldn't know what to do with an owl. Be careful - I love you -"

"I love you. I'll be very careful and stay well away from colorful-haired people."

He goes.

Rebecca's family are very nervous and don't answer the door.

Note under door. He lingers to make sure they don't immediately burn it or something.

There is a muffled yelp. No fire.

And no colorful-haired people! He lingers a while longer, anxiously.

There is some brief and quickly stifled yelling. The doorknob jostles but doesn't turn.

Stupid evil colorful people.

John scurries around the side of the house tugging a six year old by the hand. Holds up a finger to his lips.

...nod.

John pushes the six year old at him.

- well fuck.

Michael Disapparates with the kid.

"Are you the fair folk," says the six year old.

He pushes open the gates of the house. "No. But we might be able to keep you safer from - from the bad people who are threatening everyone."

"The sky people with color hair? I want to meet a sky people! I want to go in the sky!" she exclaims.

"Have you seen them? Or just heard about them?"

"There was notes. I want to go up in the sky! Can you take me up in the sky?"

"When it's safe, sure." Inside they go.

"Where are we?" asks the little girl.

"Hi - Judith?"

"..........Beth?"

"- no, Rebecca. Don't remember me?"

"...no..."

"Rebecca is your biggest sister. She moved in with me when we got married. This is my house."

"Why am I here?" asks Judith.

"So you'll be safe from whatever's going on with the people who dropped the notes."

"I want to go meet them."

"- Michael, why only Judith -"

"No idea, John shoved her at me and gestured to be quiet."

"...well that's not good."

"I want to go in the sky."

"Michael can take you in the sky later when it's safe."

"The sky people might hurt you. They said in the note they would hurt people who hurt them and we don't know what they'd count as hurting them."

"But I won't hurt them! I want to go in the sky!"

"Maybe John handed her over because he wasn't sure they could stop her from running off to grab one," murmurs Rebecca.

- nod. "Well. We can ask the elves to keep an eye on her - what's the plan, do we have a plan -"

"We make sure we have accurate information. If they're sticking to what they said, we let them do it, watch very carefully, figure out why they're leaving wizards alone, act only once we have full information. If they start mass murder - I don't know. We take a lot of Felix and coordinate something internationally."

"Should you lay groundwork for that now?"

"Yeah probably. I want to check on Elio, he got suddenly sick and left."

"...weird coincidence..."

"Isn't it just. Gonna wait a bit to make sure international Portkeys are still allowed and not attracting unwanted attention and then I'll go find him."

"Good luck."

He squeezes her hand.

He waits for signs of problems with international Portkeys.

Colorful aliens show up in places where the population seems least restive and start giving out instructions on how to build temporary housing and railroads and airports. They pay laborers in their own currency, which can be used to buy things at their stores. They are not impeding the operation of normal stores, at least not yet. 

They do not shoot people who show up as instructed for temporary housing. They do not shoot the people who hide, either, though they go through the targeted areas door-by-door in bizarre suits of a bizarre material, move people out, and then demolish things and bury the material and run a contained fire and then rebuild.

Some people attack them. These people are dragged away and don't reappear.

They give no indication they care at all about international Portkeys or in fact have heard of such a thing.

Timothy goes to Italy and finds Elio's organization.

Elio's organization is quite headless and confused.

What's going on with Elio?

He said he was sick and all operations were suspended and fucked off to no one knows where! says his minion staffer Erica.

"Very odd timing. I think that while his original vision is - challenging given the current circumstances, the lines of communication he had with the entire magical world are going to be critical. It would make sense to maintain those even if operations specifically on the Statute were suspended, don't you think?"

"We're hardly going to tell all the owls they should return to the wild, Signore."

"Not what I meant. I mean, instead of cancelling meetings they could still happen with a different focus and a broader range of attendees."

"Signore, I think it is premature to make decisions like that without Elio's input."

"I think someone sabotaged Elio at a critical time, and that it'd be dishonoring the things he's accomplished to let it all grind to a halt until we're sure that's what he wants."

"I think if Elio may have been sabotaged taking direction from anyone who wanders by and has ideas would be a very poor choice, Signore."

"You know I've been working with him."

"He works with many people, Signore."

"I would accuse them all of being disappointingly incurious about what caused his collapse but most of them have the excuse that it's presently difficult to travel to Italy."

"Please come back another time when Elio is feeling better."

"Did he say when that might be?"

"I am sure if he wishes to contact you when he is well again he will make that clear, Signore."

"Did he have contingency plans for you all for the case of some tragedy?"

"Signore, please go."

"I know you care about him, Erica. But someone did this. Is everyone in the organization here, are there any close associates of his who also vanished..."

"Someone did this and we do not know who. Signore."

"I'd be much happier to abandon my inquiry if I had assurance someone else was looking into it."

She stares levelly at him.

That doesn't do it either, if you're trying to stop giving me information, he does not say. 

"Erica, the quickest way to get me out of your hair is to point me at whoever is leading the effort to investigate what happened."

"Please leave, Signore."

"No one is."

"It is none of your business, Signore."

"We're going to have to disagree on that. Elio didn't have contingency plans and no one is figuring out what happened."

"Signore, it is none of your business."

"I think he'd come back for you if he could, you know."

Dubiously polite massively irritated staring.

"The fastest way to get me out of your hair is to tell me who I should be talking to," he says again, cataloguing things about the massively irritated staring.

"Signore, I do not tell everyone who asks anything they wish even if they ask many times."

He starts guessing names of Elio's staff members.

She turns and goes inside and makes to shut the door.

Interfering with that would be a bit much. He leaves.

He goes home.

"Any luck?"

"Elio's disappearance is as suspiciously timed as it sounded. He didn't have any kind of chain of command for if he was killed or incapacitated, which seems like a glaring oversight but I will have to wait until he's well to take it up with him. Some of his people are investigating, but independently - they don't trust each other - and not all that effectually, there's not much to go off and it's very different than the skillsets he adopts them for. They're wary of outside assistance, for the obvious reasons, and in no position to pivot towards using his contacts to coordinate a response to a colored-people invasion. They didn't know anything about the colored-hair-people invasion and haven't really been staying on top of it what with trying to figure out what happened to Elio. They refused to answer any questions so that's all I've got."

"Why don't they trust each other -?"

"I think people were more loyal to Elio than the mission? Or, if they were loyal to the mission, it was specifically the Statute thing that's now been obviated in the most dramatic way possible, not to - general internationalist humanitarianism - this is the problem with building narrow coalitions... anyway, they're loyal enough to Elio that he said 'everything on hold' and everything's on hold."

"Well damn."

"The only thing they have done which is at all wizard-related is take out Elio. Unless anyone's heard anything new -"

"More of the same is all... they've leafleted almost everywhere."

"They're using machines to do the construction near London. Could be magic integrated with machinery, like the Hogwarts train, but I couldn't detect it. They don't run on coal."

"Which has what implications exactly -"

"No idea. I wanted to go ask them but I didn't. - their English is not very good and their native language doesn't have many voiced stops, I don't think."

"Are the ones working in other languages better?"

"I haven't left Britain. If they're really doing the same things everywhere that they're doing here they have - god, they must have half a million people - they've got to mostly be Muggles -"

"Unless there's been a secret wizard society under Antarctica for centuries."

"And no unicorns in Antarctica so they were stuck for birth control."

"Apparently. And developed in complete isolation and - flying things - and decided to take over the world - thinking they were the only wizards in it -"

"...well, it fits the data."

"And what, whatever happened to Elio was completely unrelated coincidence?"

"It could be? He might have any number of enemies, someone may have just cursed him. The flying people have been at work for a while, you'd think it was related if he'd fallen ill any time in the last month, wouldn't you -"

"Yes but not as strongly, it was right during the takeover."

"Which takeover?"

" - it was like an hour before France but I think they hit a lot of Europe at the same time -"

"Well, if international travel's safe maybe you should go around everywhere and figure out where they landed when and what differences in the notes there were and what they're doing now and how proficient they are with the languages and so on."

"Yeah, maybe."

"If they think they're the only wizards in the world they shouldn't have gone to so much trouble to make it seem like it could be fancy technology, is there any way that would just happen to be convenient?"

" - I mean, maybe it lets them have mostly Muggle labor, maybe it scales better, but - I can't imagine that what they've got is optimized for any goal a secret wizarding society would reasonably have. ...we could ask them how it works."

"Minor, they're killing people who throw rocks at them."

"And I didn't suggest we throw rocks at them!"

"Be careful anyway."

"I know. We'll do the languages-and-what-are-they-up-to thing first."

"Is there any sign of what their own language is?"

"Doesn't have many voiced stops, I think it's got fewer vowels than us, does have 'dh', which is pretty rare - I'd need to actually hear them speaking it to get more than that."

"Isn't it typical for conquerors to impose their own language?"

"They seem to consider replacing the sewers the top priority. Maybe that's step two."

"Huh. I wonder why sewers."

"We need more information."

"Yeah. No new leaflets so far, do we know what they're telling people who work for them -"

"Didn't hear anything interesting."

"Okay. So - who's going to go poke around -"

"Do we know of them killing anyone who didn't throw rocks at them -"

"There's a little crater in Lisbon where the palace used to be. Apparently they were shooting at the planes and hit one and the colored-hairs retaliated."

"Cratering a palace would produce - lots of unrelated casualties - do they not know or not care?"

"Seems like it would be hard to not know."

"We may be talking about isolated Antarctica wizards who have never seen a palace and could think they're autonomous artillery."

"In that case, someone should probably tell 'em - maybe either way someone should tell them, so we have more information."

"A languages person to incidentally pick up languages information or someone else?"

"Well, if we're doing that in Portugal it kind of has to be someone with good Portuguese, they'll be confused about how English people even got the news."

"Muggles do have some international news, although I suppose it might not have gotten around yet."

"I can go to Portugal and sign up to help build things and ask a colorful-hair alien what happened to my sister who was a servant in the palace and see what we get."

Miranda squeezes his hand.

Squeeze.

He goes to a place in Portugal where people have been invited to show up and build an airfield. He tries to meander towards the colorful people.

There are grey-haired people with fancy guns. There are purple-haired people who are showing locals how to build things to their standards and doing some of the work themselves. There is a yellow-haired colorful person who is running around apparently translating.

What are they speaking among one another -

A language with very few voiced stops and no R but lots of L. This is mostly discernible among the greys; the purples aren't talking much. The greys eye him warily.

Those guns might punch through a shield charm. He tries to look unlikely to throw rocks. Asks in Portuguese "excuse me, do you know where the people are who in the palace -"

One of the greys calls the yellow over. The yellow comes and looks at him attentively.

Slower. "Excuse me, do you know where all the people are who were in the palace - my sister worked in the kitchens there - lots of people -"

"I'm sorry, I do not know. This is a build site."

"Who should I ask?"

"If you would like to submit a written query we can send that up. If you are willing to wait until I am less busy I can write it for you if you cannot read."

"I can read. I can't write in your language, does it have to be in your language?"

"No, we can translate it."

"How?"

"The same way I translate for the workers here, but in an office dedicated to that."

He writes a note in Portuguese.

The yellow feeds it into a slot in the lid of a large box and resumes translating for purples and workers.

He lingers listening.

The purples and yellow and greys all have different dialects but seem to understand each other if they moderate them a bit towards some fourth standard.

And none of them are doing any magic.

Not a speck.

After a while he leaves. Reports all of this back at home.

"...was the box magic? That the letter went in?"

"Not noticeably so but of course it could've been - I want to take a look at their weapons but that seemed risky -"

"A bit, yes."

"I'm not taking chances, promise." Kiss. "But I think they were Muggle weapons."

"I mean, if they only expect Muggle rock throwers..."

"With a wand you can stun them."

"They clearly want to be more punitive than that, Muggles you can also just lock up."

"It'd be really nice to know the underlying philosophy, if it's 'people who throw rocks deserve to die' we're really not going to get along but if - no, actually, I can't think of a justification."

"I suppose it's loosely possible they'd say if asked - do they take regular mail -"

"If nothing else you can bring 'em letters for their boxes."

"I suppose if they just put them in boxes that also postpones the conflict enough that they probably won't whisk you away for impertinent questions."

"She was - not friendly exactly, but not looking for someone to make an example of either?"

"Someone could go Polyjuiced if we want to be safe."

"If they decide to whisk you away and then it wears off..."

"Then we've got more of a problem, yeah. I'm pretty sure if we're whisked away we have a problem regardless - have they released anyone -"

"We have really really incomplete information."

"They're being really polite as conquests go but they could stand to make more announcements!"

"If I were an amoral colorful-hair conqueror I don't think I'd make a lot of announcements on, like, the long-term plan or governing philosophy. Just lets people decide they're against you, whereas if you keep it concrete and moment-to-moment there can't be much confusion and you can't really get ideological opposition."

"Should we actually assume amoral - except for harsh laws against rock throwing and the palace -"

"I don't know. They're not killing people who haven't done anything but there are strategic reasons not to do that -"

"The paying people in their own currency is potentially kind of scummy, means they can pull out the rug from under them any time - or just inflate prices in their stores - but on the other hand, they are paying people -"

"Most people would consider 'conquering the world' inherently a kind of immoral thing to do."

"Maybe I should write a letter asking them to abolish slavery."

"That would be interesting."

"Safer to bribe someone else to deliver it, you think?"

"...maybe not? Bribery's traceable and then it makes us look like we're hiding something."

Nod.

He writes a note. It says that the conquerors should please consider abolishing slavery worldwide, slavery is terribly cruel and it would be a great step forward for human rights. 

He visits a London construction site.

Purples and locals are building a water treatment plant.

Translator?

Yellow, over there, talking to grey guards but not about anything important.

He heads over. 

"Can I help you?" asks the yellow.

"Is there a way to communicate with the new government? I want to petition them to abolish slavery."

"I can take a note or take dictation if you can't write."

He hands her the note. "Who reads the notes?"

"These escalate to the regional coordinator." Box.

"Who is that?"

"Miloli Aptan."

"Will responses to inquiries be published?"

"There's not currently a setup for that."

"Can we help arrange one?"

"I'm sure if we build a publishing operation we'll solicit local labor there too."

"Can I bring you another note?"

"Yes."

This one petitions the government to post publicly on walls outside townships their answers to selected inquiries so that people know that anything sufficiently important and valuable they raise to the attention of their rulers will in fact be read and considered, while giving them good examples of what kinds of inquiries are actually important. 

He puts a Tracing Charm on it.

It goes in the box and stays there.

He leaves, stays close enough he can follow the trace.

It doesn't go anywhere until eventually it is discarded.

He reports this. "I guess that's one way to handle public opinion."

"Nobody read it first?"

"Nope. Put it in the box and then it stayed in the box and then was shredded. - I guess they could've glanced at it before shredding it."

"And they're closed boxes." Sigh.

"It could duplicate the contents somewhere, I guess."

"I guess."

"Or they could really not care what local Muggles think or not have the resources to read it all or something. 

I think it might be worthwhile to find one of the not-busy ones and get them to teach you Anitami, Father - or Minor -"

"I think I would be rude to condescending conquering colorful-people," says Finis. 

"Dear, would you be rude to condescending conquering colorful-people," says Miranda to Minor.

"I was not great at following stupid rules at school but they wouldn't straight-up murder me for it. I bet I can avoid being rude to condescending conquering colorful-people."

"Would it help if I went along - or Karen, who has even fewer impulses to be rude -"

" - yeah, you can come along and glare at me if I'm being rude to the condescending colorful conquerors."

"Both of us?"

"Honestly I'm confused that everyone doesn't badly want to learn Anitami."

    "I do," Finis says, "I just don't want everyone to be dead ten minutes later."

"We will be such obedient subjects of the colorful conquerors. We just want to learn their language because it's obviously better, like them."

"Too risky to bring the magic dictionary but I'll take notes and we can copy it in later."

"Sounds good."

They shop around for a yellow-haired person who does not look busy.

This one staffing one of the large stores where you can spend ni seems bored.

"Hi! I was wondering about your language. Are there books written in it? Can we buy those here?"

"- we're not selling Anitami books here right now. Maybe after the upper floors are finished, I don't know, I don't operate the store, I just translate."

"Oooh. Can you teach us Anitami?"

The yellow looks at them dubiously. "Not fast, I don't think."

"If it's descended from Latin or Greek I expect I can pick it up in an hour or two. If not I suppose I won't be fluent but still, passing familiarity would be great!"

"It's not descended from Latin or Greek."

"Cool!"

The yellow sighs at him and starts talking in Anitami. "This is a sentence. You probably have terrible childhood nutrition and won't be able to remember any words. Who do you think you are, Afen Kisantami? Why are there two brown people with you, I thought that phenotype was rare here."

He repeats it back near perfectly, transcribes it with a quill onto a piece of parchment. "Okay, what does that mean."

"Look, maybe there will be classes later."

"This is a sentence? Is this a sentence? Remember any words? Is words a sentence?"

"I'm not a teacher."

"I just need you to say things and then tell me what they are in English. Or French, or German, or Portuguese, or Igbo, or Mandarin Chinese, or Swedish, or Italian, or Greek, or Latin, and I could probably make do if you felt the impulse to say them in Spanish or Polish or Russian or Danish or Arabic."

"This isn't my job. There will probably be classes later."

"Your job is to translate for people shopping in the store?"

"Mostly the other way round, but yeah."

"I have questions about the products in the store, will you translate them for the benefit of the cashier I am going to ask?"

Sigh. "Yes."

Minor picks some items off the shelf. "How long will this last?" he asks. "What is this made of? When will you restock? Which of these items is selling best? Is it legal to plant the seeds from this? Should these be stored cold? Is this safe for children? Can you recommend a good present for my wife?"

The yellow translates and the purple answers. Minor's companions help think of questions. Miranda has on her a little magic sound transmitter for the folks back home.

"Is it legal to trade ni for pounds at whatever exchange rate both parties agree on? Is it legal to resell things from your store? Do you get the money from your store or do you pay it to the government? Can I have this for eight instead of ten?"

Yes. Yes. The finances are complicated. They don't haggle.

Haggling can increase producer surplus by introducing a mechanism for price discrimination, they should reconsider that.

After an hour of questions Minor switches to asking them in Anitami. He's not fluent but he can make himself clear. Under what conditions do these grow well? How were the products to sell here chosen? Do colorful people and English ones seem to have the same tastes in food?

The purple looks confused. The yellow flings up his hands and stalks off, leaving the purple to answer her own questions.

They are rated for local growing conditions and they're a basic selection until they have more consumer data and they have different tastes but probably just because they're used to different things.

Is there a way to order things not rated for local growing conditions, to try in greenhouses and so on? He has to do some circumlocutions to get 'greenhouses', is there a better word for that? Do colorful people dye their hair or does it grow like that.

If he wants to pay in advance for stuff the purple can order them to the store. They have a word for those. They only dye it if it's the wrong color.

"Wrong color?" Does Karen want to go get pounds at Gringotts (if it's not directly offering ni yet) and then find some people with ni who'll exchange for pounds?

"If somebody's purple but it doesn't grow purple they dye it."

Karen will run and do that.

"What all the colors - see purple, yellow," gesture for people with guns -

"The ones with guns are greys, there's orange and green and blue too. Usedta be red, not any more though."

"Not any more?"

"Nah, they're other things now instead."

"Huh. Orange is?"

"Teachers and shrinks and doctors and daycare workers."

This requires some clarifying and he still doesn't know what a shrink is. "Sorry, no books to learn Anitami right."

Shrug.

"Green?"

"Artists and research types."

"Blue?"

"They run stuff. And own stuff."

"- but what do they do for work."

"Oh, and judges, they can be judges."

"Huh. Blue decide conquer England?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"You've got a lot of space and you're barely using it and it's just criminal how your sewers worked and everything."

"- no could come visit not conquer?"

"I guess not? I dunno, I'm not blue. I just came to run a store and be a colonist."

"Just curious. They okay aside not explaining machines, killing people. Sewers nice. Store nice."

"They're probably gonna open schools later. The oranges probably aren't learning the languages as fast as translator yellows. We did drop the leaflets explaining not to attack us, I dunno what people attacking us were expecting. I guess it's kinda mean the places where nobody can read."

"Some places no one can read, some places do what king say even if king say stupid thing, some places no kill women, many places no kill children - not know if colorful people kill children, just example -"

"We don't kill kids. Uh, in most court circuits, I guess I dunno which circuit this counts as."

"How advanced of those court circuits."

"This place was real barbaric all by itself, we're fixing it up nice."

"If you say, you have slavery, slavery bad, we stop it, you have terrible prisons, we have better prisons, then people might say all right. If no say no slavery, if kill people for things we not kill people for, doesn't seem nice."

"Oh, slavery's bad, they'll get to it."

"Good. Killing people also bad."

"Prison's expensive. Just, you know, don't commit crimes."

"You have machines like that, kill people because prison expensive?"

"There's prison for some stuff - look, I'm not blue, I dunno."

"Can English be blue, change things that no make sense for English?"

"They haven't figured out how to caste you guys yet."

"How to caste us?"

"To put you in, uh, colors."

"...not just give us dye, explain what colors mean?"

"Oh, no, it's not like that - well, it kinda was for the ex-reds, I guess, maybe they will, I dunno. Not blue."

"Thank you explaining anyway."

"No problem."

Karen comes back with ni.

Minor buys alien seeds and alien machinery-things to disassemble and asks if he can buy one of the light fixtures lighting the shelves.

"...I haven't got those priced..."

...rest of the ni Karen got?

"...I mean, I guess I can replace it for less than that... it's not easy to uninstall... do you care which one, nobody's been interested in the stuff back on that shelf."

"No. Will it light uninstalled?"

"No."

"How it work?"

"It's electric - I'm not an electrician -"

"Electric mean -"

"Ummm. Zap!"

...for some reason this delights him and he turns to his wife, chattering excitedly in his own language and jumping up and down and then kisses her.

Giggle, kiss.

"Are all the machines things we can learn with enough time? No thing we can't do because we're different?"

"Uh, I think so, yeah. Unless you're just not smart enough or something I guess? I dunno."

"Don't think colored hair people smarter."

Shrug. "I didn't say that, that's just, like, a reason somebody might not be able to, I can't think of any others."

"Thank you very much." He hands over the money for the light fixture.