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SEA FOLK [A certain POD revelation about Sea Folk family life struck me as totally insane. Accordingly, it must be Ishamael's fault! Or maybe I'm just an old stick in the mud?] [SETTING: Ishamael's office as Acting CEO of the Darkfriends, in the absence of the Chairman of the Board, Mister Great Lord of the Dark himself! (His friends call him "Great Lord" for short). Or at least, this is the T'A'R manifestation of that office, since Ishy is still bound in the flesh for the time being.] ISHAMAEL [musing aloud, though he is alone in the room at the moment]: Now for a look at what is probably the strangest Station Chief assignment I have ever made (and I've made some pips!). I don't know what came over me that day, but they were so insistent that they did EVERYTHING together . . . maybe I better fade out of the picture for a few minutes and see how they coordinate with one another when their superiors aren't around. [Ishy makes a flamboyant gesture and two things occur simultaneously . . . 1) He becomes utterly invisible behind his desk. 2) The Tremalking Station Chief materializes in the middle of his office. The male component of the Station Chief is a Sea Folk, dressed as a Cargomaster and about 45 years old. The female component of the Station Chief is also a Sea Folk, dressed as a ship's officer of some sort, probably in her late 30s. Yep, Ishy co-promoted a married couple to oversee all Darkfriend activities among the Atha'an Miere!] HUSBAND: Hmmm. I don't see the Great Lord anywhere. What do we do now? How long do we wait? WIFE: Why are you asking me? You outrank me! HUSBAND: Yes, but I outrank you PROFESSIONALLY and IN PUBLIC. Here we are in private - I don't see anybody else in earshot, do you? - so that puts YOU in charge. WIFE: This isn't "private" in the true meaning of the word. We aren't in our own quarters, after all, we just happen to be alone in somebody ELSE'S office. YOU'RE in charge! HUSBAND: Oh no, you're not pinning responsibility on ME if we do the wrong thing in here and get the Great Lord upset at us! Nobody else can possibly see or hear us - I'm sure he has his walls soundproofed - so we're as private as we could EVER be back on the ship, or even alone on an island somewhere! YOU're in charge! WIFE: Even stipulating for the sake of argument, and without making any real ADMISSION, that I might reasonably be considered to be the person in charge at this point if the circumstances were just SLIGHTLY different . . . I feel that the Atha'an Miere customs are IRRELEVANT at this point. We are not here as citizens of our people; we are here as Friends of the Dark, and in THAT context we have EQUAL rank! HUSBAND: If we were currently meeting with other Friends of the Dark, or a Forsaken or something of the sort, that would be true. But at the moment we are merely alone - in PRIVATE - in a room that just happens to belong to our superior, who is absent, so he doesn't count. [Ishamael is curled up in one corner, his arms clutching his midsection as he doubles over, laughing silently.] WIFE [possibly hearing Ishy gasp for air]: WAIT! I thought I heard something! HUSBAND: AH HA! You gave me a direct order! Clearly you subconsciously agree that YOU are in charge and I am the one who has to obey! WIFE: NO! THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT! [ISHAMAEL finally snaps his fingers and the squabbling duo disappear again]. ISHAMAEL [after he finally catches his breath]: Oh, that was fun! I knew the Sea Folk would never be very important anyway, so I decided to just have some fun with that "One outranks in public, the OTHER commands in private!" idea. Just to see what would happen . . . must create some real tension in those marriages, deciding what's "public" and what's "private." The Sea Folk send all their channelers to the Tower anyway, so who cares what they do on borad their ships? I never was a good sailor, anyway . . . always got seasick. Who needs sea power anyway, except for the occasional transoceanic invasion like Artur Hawkwing did against Seanchan? But that's a once-in-a- millennium situation . . . considering the adamant refusal of Sea Folk to spend more time on land than absolutely necessary (they develop severe depression or other mental problems if you press the point) they're not worth much anyway. So I just relax by laughing at them! [Ishamael rubs his aching head for a moment] It's getting late, but I still have a few more interviews to do. Let's see . . . next come the Sharans, and then (I think) the Illianers. |