A Margaret in a transdimensional transhumanist beauty salon
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There's a special area of the city for landing in, but fortunately her instructions and papers are all very thorough, so she's waved through.

The library-city can in fact accommodate a dragon between buildings, and inside many of them (and she's not the only being of her size), but she might want to switch to the smaller chassis for exploring some of them. Fortunately, her contact will be in a rather large and sparsely treed park. She has a bit of time until her appointment.

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There's no way she can explore everywhere, so she sticks to the streets and buildings where her dragon form will fit. She likes it, and anyway, she doesn't have anywhere to stash it where it would be sure not to get in anyone's way. She sightsees for a bit, but aims to get to the park several minutes early so as to be sure she isn't late.

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That seems wise, as the park is decently crowded - though her contact is exactly where the briefing said he'd be, and he stands out quite a bit even in this crowd. He looks like someone had a very odd, cubist dream about a butterfly-themed fairy, and then decided to render that dream in stained glass. His voice doesn't match his body at all, deep and rumbling as he laughs and waves Margaret over.

"You must be Marel's new girl!" he declares, crystalline wings fluttering.

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"Not how I'd've put it but you're totally right. You look pretty awesome, did she work on you too?"

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He smiles and makes a so-so gesture. "Only a bit of color switching. Which, well, plenty hard with how my wings do colors, but my species looks like this normally. Your form is quite lovely, though."

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"Thanks! It's all new from the ground up." She swishes her new tail happily. "So, we have a library run to make?"

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"Yes indeed! I'll introduce you to the library staff in charge of this sector, too, help you find your way around for future visits - though they'll have riddles for you to get you in."

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"Sounds good! I'm looking forward to hearing one of these riddles, I actually have no idea if I'm good at riddles or not."

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He chuckles. "I think they sometimes adjust for the person's ability, but, yes."

And he leads the way. The main dragon-compatible entrance is enormous, stone mosaics drawing the eye to it, depicting odd and fantastical beings reading scrolls and books and tablets. A six-legged being approximately the size of a large lion sprawls across the walkway. Their sleek fur shimmers in the light, tawny with a red and orange iridescence. Their eyes seem outsized for their face, their muzzle flat, and when they speak their voice is light and melodious.

"Welcome," they say, rising to sketch a long bow. "Do you seek entrance?"

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Everyone is so pretty! She would have felt distinctly insecure before, but now she's pretty too. "Yes." Wait, was that the riddle, was she supposed to say "I've found the entrance, it's right here?" Eh, too late, she'll see how they answer.

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"Then you must answer my riddle:

"To have me is freedom; to speak me is war; to hear me is death; to know me is everything. No law may bind me, but any may hold me. What am I?"

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Margaret generates a bunch of ideas, discards them all as blatantly incompatible with one or another clause, then settles on one to try.

"A belief," she says. "The most fundamental freedom is freedom of thought, which belongs to everyone and is beyond the reach of law. And when someone hears someone else's beliefs and changes their mind, it's like they're replaced by a slightly different person--that's why the war and death parts."

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"A good answer," they say, stepping aside.

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Phew. Onward and inward!

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The library is massive, and was clearly designed to be a place to savor books. Widely spaced shelves soar to the ceiling high above and march into the distance, and the sitting areas between them look cozy. Despite the size, it's quiet, sounds fading out rapidly. Everything's well-lit by heatless motes of light, and there's little sprites that can retrieve books. The ceiling bears scenes ranging from domestic to epic; animals and people and unusual beings decorate every carved column and support. 

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This is exactly what libraries ought to look like. She hopes she can find her way back here when she has more time to linger. She starts searching for the books she needs, walking the stacks to read section names and bask in the ambiance rather than looking immediately for a directory.

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They definitely don't use the Dewey Decimal System, and indeed apparently group 'fiction about X' next to 'fictionalized nonfiction about X' next to 'nonfiction about X', though each sub-group is clearly labeled. Sections range from 'science' (including math) to 'history' (organized by time, and place within that) to 'culture' (organized by group, not by geography) to 'atlases and charts' to 'psychology' (which seems to include the romance genre of fiction, and is not counted within the sciences, though neurology is)... Many of the sections are very large, sprawling over multiple shelves with finely grained sub-sections - but there's enough of an organization system Margaret should be able to tell where to go when she reaches an intersection in the main path.

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She doesn't dawdle, though she's tempted to by book spine after book spine hinting at nonfiction from worlds with more technology than her own. Okay, she stops once. Okay, twice. Okay, a few more times than that. Eventually she has all the books she came for and another pile of the same size for herself. It ought to be possible to make sure hers get returned when the others do, no harm no foul.

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This adds up to quite a lot of books.

She's given a reminder of when the books will be due back, and a firm sheet of something that looks and feels like paper but won't tear with the date on it.

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She will bring the books back, definitely. Paper goes in one of the compartments she now has instead of pockets (or, for that matter, pants); books go under her arm and under her arm and under her arm and under her arm and in more compartments. And now she can start back the way she came. How is her contact doing? She rather lost track of him in favor of all the books.

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He has his own stack of books, though notably more modest than hers. He waves when he sees her.

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Is it obvious how she's supposed to get back to Marel from here? She still isn't used to the newly expanded set of ways she can get from one place to another.

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Her guide can help with that! Usually Marel's people are picked up by the building itself, though this planet dislikes it, or it dislikes this planet, he's really unclear. Still, it should be wherever she left it?

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Well then, she won't make the building hang out on this planet any more than she already has. She thanks her guide for all his help and heads back the way she came.

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He welcomes her and wishes her well, and tells her how to contact him if she's ever in the area again.

The building is still where she left it.

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