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Cam is out flying. There's a decent cloud of atmosphere around the gold plane, now, millenia of demons making air around themselves for comfort and not sealing it up because why would you bother. There's a small forest, here - the effect is kind of ruined by the lamps it has to grow under, but it's still pretty.
He feels an open summons and lets it grab him -
the Connecticut Yankee summons Demon Cam
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from_scratch
connecticut_yankee
Before they reach the door, it opens and a young man wearing sixth-century clothes made of nineteenth-century fabric runs out.
"Boss!" he shouts. "We've been wondering if your coming would precede the army's, but I think you'll be quite satisfied with our defences. Did you get my note?" He looks at Cam, sees the wings, and stares.
"Ah." Hank begins. "Cam, this is Amyas le Poulet, better known as Clarence. He's my right-hand man and has apparently done very well as de facto leader of the Republic.
Clarence, this is Cam. He's...approximately the thing to our people that we are to the rest of Britain, and is willing to cancel the battle. He's not really an angel."
"Boss!" he shouts. "We've been wondering if your coming would precede the army's, but I think you'll be quite satisfied with our defences. Did you get my note?" He looks at Cam, sees the wings, and stares.
"Ah." Hank begins. "Cam, this is Amyas le Poulet, better known as Clarence. He's my right-hand man and has apparently done very well as de facto leader of the Republic.
Clarence, this is Cam. He's...approximately the thing to our people that we are to the rest of Britain, and is willing to cancel the battle. He's not really an angel."
connecticut_yankee
Clarence continues staring.
"What—who are you? A true magician, or 'merely' one whose knowledge exceeds the Boss'?"
"What—who are you? A true magician, or 'merely' one whose knowledge exceeds the Boss'?"
connecticut_yankee
The Boss isn't exactly happy about not being the most knowledgeable person in the universe, but he just nods.
"You know, of course," Clarence says, once he processes Hank's reaction, that we have no means to distinguish between methods of performing impossible tasks? What you call magic could be a device, or the converse, and we have only your word that you possess both skills."
"You know, of course," Clarence says, once he processes Hank's reaction, that we have no means to distinguish between methods of performing impossible tasks? What you call magic could be a device, or the converse, and we have only your word that you possess both skills."
from_scratch
"It doesn't make very much difference to me how you think I'm doing things as long as you understand that I can do them - and if necessary acknowledge the small number of constraints I'm operating under, whether you're assuming they're technical or magical. Should I bother describing what I can do or are you just going to be sort of irritatingly skeptical if I explain?"
connecticut_yankee
"You're likely correct about the methods not being important. I'll just assume your capabilities are greater than anything I would know to ask, and let you specify as it comes up. I do have some experience with this sort of change.
Would you like to come in and meet the Republic?"
Would you like to come in and meet the Republic?"
connecticut_yankee
The Republic is fifty-two teenaged boys and Clarence. "There aren't many who sided with us," Hank explains on the way in, "but there were only so many people we've educated. Anyone younger we wouldn't ask to fight, and anyone older had more years of superstition from the Church than education from us."
"Ho all!" Clarence shouts after barring the door behind them. "To the council-room! The Boss has come, we have an ally, and we need not fight our countrymen!"
To Cam: "How was it you were to 'cancel the battle?' "
"Ho all!" Clarence shouts after barring the door behind them. "To the council-room! The Boss has come, we have an ally, and we need not fight our countrymen!"
To Cam: "How was it you were to 'cancel the battle?' "
from_scratch
"I'm planning to appear to the recalcitrant parties accompanied by music, dramatic cloud formations, burning magnesium, and possibly other frippery - while dressed in something other than a pair of jeans, probably, I'll work out some kind of toga arrangement perhaps - and, while looking thus angelic, produce a speech about the virtues of democracy and how very unkind it is to prevent people from receiving their sacraments whenever they should care to have same. Did your school not admit girls?"
connecticut_yankee
Clarence is cracking up at the description of the plan, so Hank answers.
"We did. More of them than boys in fact, since fewer of them had trades to choose against. What we didn't do was recruit them for a civil war against the massed chivalry of England."
"We did. More of them than boys in fact, since fewer of them had trades to choose against. What we didn't do was recruit them for a civil war against the massed chivalry of England."
connecticut_yankee
"At their separate homes throughout England. Physically safe, and at no risk save that of returning to the lot of a commoner from before the Boss' arrival.
Those present here are those over whom the Church's threat held no sway and whose families were not depending on their immediate presence."
Those present here are those over whom the Church's threat held no sway and whose families were not depending on their immediate presence."
connecticut_yankee
The contingent hasn't all heard the same amounts of explanation, so Hank steps in. "Cam is a magician in the same way that I was when I first arrived, in addition to actually being a magician. He is not an angel but can appear to be one, which is the plan for getting the Interdict revoked and the army dispersed. Any questions?"
There are. The ones that get shouted enough to be audible over the cacophony cover everything between "where did you come from," "what can you do," "is my family OK," "are you going to make yourself king," and "can I set you up with my sister."
There are. The ones that get shouted enough to be audible over the cacophony cover everything between "where did you come from," "what can you do," "is my family OK," "are you going to make yourself king," and "can I set you up with my sister."
from_scratch
"Whoa, whoa, I can do a lot of things, but I don't have super hearing. I heard a few of those. I came from my house, which is above a city with many names, one of which is Amblamire. I can fly, I'm indestructible, and I can conjure up arbitrary matter wherever I want to put it, and know a lot about different things that may be useful to conjure up, sort of like your Boss knows what would be useful to build but more so. The current plan does not involve me being king. Whether you can set me up with your sister depends a lot on your sister but I'm going to tentatively guess no."
connecticut_yankee
The room quiets down bit by bit, mostly because it is gradually grasping the implications of "arbitrary matter."
Clarence speaks up. "Our first order of business is ending this Perilous Siege before it begins. The knights are two days ride away, and we can execute the plan at any time before they arrive. Cam, is there anything you need to prepare?"
Clarence speaks up. "Our first order of business is ending this Perilous Siege before it begins. The knights are two days ride away, and we can execute the plan at any time before they arrive. Cam, is there anything you need to prepare?"
from_scratch
"I should probably pick out my dramatic music and where to put the speakers - I'm leaning towards a specific hymn but I'm open to advice. I will need to decide on an angle of approach, and the dramatic cloud formation will be more dramatic if I choose a moment when the sky is clear. And figure out something more angelic to wear. Other than that, no, I think I'm good. You guys aren't starving or anything while besieged, are you?"
connecticut_yankee
"The siege had yet to begin, and there was a railroad supply line before we destroyed it.
If your hymn be as alien as your clothes, it will sound otherworldly to the hearers. That can only assist.
The sky has been clear these last few days, but neither scientist nor magician can promise that the clouds do not return. For clothes, a white robe and a halo?"
If your hymn be as alien as your clothes, it will sound otherworldly to the hearers. That can only assist.
The sky has been clear these last few days, but neither scientist nor magician can promise that the clouds do not return. For clothes, a white robe and a halo?"
from_scratch
"I can't make a halo float unless I want to saw off part of my skull first, which would be highly uncomfortable. D'you guys want to hear the hymn? It's just in Latin, it should be less weird than jeans except for the part where a disembodied choir will sing it."
connecticut_yankee
The room collectively murmurs in agreement. One boy qualifies it with "as long as we don't have to sing along," and a few of his fellows laugh.
Hank interrupts, "Why not just support the halo with a transparent hat? You'll be some distance above the audience, with the light in their eyes. No reason to let them get a good look."
Hank interrupts, "Why not just support the halo with a transparent hat? You'll be some distance above the audience, with the light in their eyes. No reason to let them get a good look."
from_scratch
"Because a halo that falls off at an inopportune moment would be worse than nothing. I could continually generate a circle of sparks? It'd be a little more... festive... than halos are normally supposed to be, but I could do it. It'd look like this." A ring above Cam's head abruptly looks like the ends of a few dozen sparklers. In his hand, meanwhile, he appears a version of his computer - he puts it in white casing with gold detailing so it will be appropriately angelic and then hunts through his music library for the song he wants. "The song is entitled Universalis and sounds like this."
It is a professionally recorded 500-person choir of highly trained vocalists accompanied by a full orchestra singing in Latin a song composed in 2058, in eight-part harmony.
It is a professionally recorded 500-person choir of highly trained vocalists accompanied by a full orchestra singing in Latin a song composed in 2058, in eight-part harmony.
connecticut_yankee
Europe hadn't been going to invent harmony for another three hundred years, and the fact that the vocalists are doing it very well doesn't hurt either. All the listeners stare dumbfounded for reasons completely unrelated to the suddenly appearing white thing.
Hank, at least, has heard real music before. "I think that's a hit."
Hank, at least, has heard real music before. "I think that's a hit."