Red Tape Dreams

[Jacques Citadine]

The Bureuacracy is expanding to meet the needs of the expanding Bureuacracy

Scene: Rented House of leCitadin, outskirts of RhyDin

Iodor Ulson had been the Magician-General of RhyDin for almost a decade. "Magician-General of RhyDin" was a fine title indeed but had yielded little in the way of money or power to Iodor Ulson. Indeed, he reflected with dismay, the quarters of this fellow, leCitadin, was at least twice the size of his even though this fellow had described his condition as that of a pauper. The situation of the grossly underpaid Patrol was much envied by Ulson and his colleagues, for most citizens had at least heard of the Patrol. Ulson ventured that one might spend days searching for a citizen who knew about the RhyDin Magical Authority.

But as he entered, it occured to him that leCitadin might have been referring to relative sizes of interior spaces, for every room he wandered through was packed with full bookshelves, such that only a very narrow path was left. The shelves were stacked so close that it appeared the great majority of books could not even be accessed. Before climbing the staircase (where he suspected leCitadin was) he took one of the volumes and examined it. It was black; bound in soft leather, only as thick as a journal but very heavy; there were maybe five hundred closely packed pages in it. In gold lettering on the cover read the legend: "Audiomantic Explorations, nos. 33-52". He opened to a random page.

There he saw staves upon staves of sheet music and not a single margin that had not been filled up with dense annotations, assorted arcane glyphs. Ulson read one of the scribblings: "Parallel Vs here result in massy distort'n in the q'tic patt., such that cond't was destr'd: lends f'ther cred. to reliance on oblique mot'n. Palestrina w'd've made fine mage!" Some of the other notes were far more obscure and others also were half-joking observations. Ulson closed the volume and replaced it in on the shelf.

He proceeded up the stairs, where he found a much more spacious interior, with four or five bookshelves, and a desk, whereat a man, maybe in his thirties, was seated, reading a volume of similar appearence as the one Ulson had inspected. The man looked up, a bit confused, and asked Ulson who he was and what his business was.

"You're Jacques leCitadin?" Ulson asked.

"That is so, but who, pray tell, are you?"

Ulson cleared his throat, "I am Iodor Ulson, Magician-General."

The fellows ears perked, "What, from the Mayor's office?"

"Yes. And if I may say, Doctor, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Indeed," said Jacques, rising and fetching a chair, "Please sit."

"Thank you," said the Magician-General and they both sat down. leCitadin assailed him with a great abundance of thanks and inquired as to why the Mayor had sent so illustrious a figure as he instead of summoning leCitadin to City Hall.

"In truth, Doctor, you will soon find that I am no illustrious figure, not by any stretch of the imagination. The same cannot be said of you, though...at least among college wizards."

"Well I never taught in RhyDin, so I can't imagine that would be the case, sir."

Ulson allowed himself to grin, "I'm surprised that an experienced spellcaster like you sought to hide his true identity from other wizards. When our Authenticists perused the credentials you provided with your request for promotion, we found out, via divination, that you were also Iacobus Maris.

"I fail to see, sir, what relevance that name has in Rhydin."

"Why, Doctor! Two of your works are required reading at the RhyDin University of Magic!"

"What?" leCitadin seemed more troubled than elated, which seemed odd to Ulson, who had figured the Doctor for an ambitious man.

"Division of Magic for all freshmen and Casting from Compound Liturgical Forms for seniors. I have myslef read the former, and it is very astounding. The whole scholarly wizarding community in RhyDin has been wondering for decades who Iacobus Maris was. But apparently, you've been frequenting the city for seven years!"

leCitadin was then silent for a very long time, and seemed troubled. Ulson was thrown off balance by this silence, and was uncertain how he should continue. But he was soon spared this, when the mage began to speak about a recent incident that had rendered perhaps less a mage than Ulson thought. ((for my sake, information that may be found in the post "'Grand Re-entry'", in "The Streets", will not be repeated here)).

Ulson thought for a moment, "But as you've said, you've already duplicated more than twenty years of your past learning. That probably puts you ahead of all the RMA mages, including me."

leCitadin's confidence seemed to grow, "Is that so? But...if you are all mages of that low degree, how can you hope to regulate the..."

"We can't," Ulson interrupted, "We are as laughable, indeed more laughable than the Patrol or the PD or any other public institution. That's why I was sent here! Someone like you could..." Ulson stopped, cleared his throat and began again, "I have received the Mayor's approval to demote myself and appoint you to my former position."

"Ridiculous!"

"No, Doctor, that is the state of things. You're salary will be raised of course, to twenty thousand silver Nobles per anum."

"That's...all...for the Magician-General?"

Ulson grinned, "That's right. Maybe now you understand. What were you doing for us, in your month at the bottom?"

"Well," leCitadin began, "I filed a lot of papers, which didn't seem to be very important. And on some days I did guard duty in the marketplace, looking for invisible theives, and whatnot. All very menial stuff."

Ulson nodded, "That, honorable Doctor, aside from the occasional disaster, like the recent fires, is the extent of our activities, currently.

"So what the RhyDin Magical Authority wants from its new leadership is...."

"Ascendancy," was Ulson's reply. He was almost shaking, now, with excitement. leCitadin's receptiveness had proved to be beyond his wildest dreams! He had been almost certain that, like most dueling wizards, some of whom were dreadfully powerful, leCitadin would laugh. But now, things might be different...

"So, what does this make you, Iodor Ulson?"

"Why, First Secretary to the Magician-General, of course."