Dr. Jasmine Summa Meets with the Council of Mages

Doctor Jasmine Summa, Chief Hexologist with the Guild for Responsible Thaumatics, stood resplendent in her ceremonial robe and beard as she addressed the Council of Mages, her back straight to show off her full height, her dark hair laced into formal side braids that wound past her shoulders.  She made for a commanding presence, which she knew would be more effective if she could actually command the Council to do anything. 

As usual, the Council meeting was presided over by the palpable presence of the High Mage, who was listening in by telepathic conference call.   Sunset crossed the sky in reds and oranges through the glass dome of the Council Hall. 

“But that's just the thing,” she said, gesturing with long fingers at her display of runic statistics floating in front of her, her nails painted flat blue to match the lipstick that was wasted behind the scratchy and irritating false beard.  “I may not like what the Gray Sisterhood does, but you have to admit, they have a point.”

The Council, arrayed around a viridian horseshoe table made of energized air, listened and watched as Dr. Summa flipped through holographic slides showing what she called “magical degradation.”

Councilor Barth Mandle spoke up.  “I'm not convinced the damage is this severe.  Your predecessors have been telling us we're ten years from disaster for forty years now.”

“It's not possible to precisely pinpoint the moment of catastrophe, Councilor, but the trend line is clear,” said Dr. Summa. 

“Yes, and has been for forty years,” Councilor Mandle persisted, shaking a grizzled finger in Dr. Summa's direction.  “And yet, here we sit, and nobody has turned into a sheep or exploded or whatever it is you think is going to happen.”

“What about the incident in Burnham the other day?”

“What about it?”

Dr. Summa summoned a news video and floated the display over to Councilor Mandle's seat, where it played in front of him.  The news video was about a house that had lost half of its roof.  Not that the roof had blown off, or been damaged.  The roof had simply vanished, dissolved in a quantum puff of non-being, as if all of its molecules had suddenly decided they needed to be elsewhere.

“I heard that someone in the house was experimenting with dangerous spells,” insisted Councilor Mandle.  “How can you connect that to what you're talking about?”

“I took a team over there to do some readings, and they found a degradation of zero point five percent,” said Dr. Summa, and waved her display back to its place in front of her podium.  “Tell me that's normal.”

“Perfectly normal,” said Councilor Mandle.  “We see readings like that all the time at the power plant, and we've observed no ill effects.”

“Really?  What about last month?”

“What about last month?”

“You honestly don't remember the spherical cloud that appeared over the power plant?  The black rain that fell upward?  The gravitational anomalies?”

“Meteorological flukes.  You yourself have said that you can't connect individual incidents to the overall trend.”

Dr. Summa was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.  It was exhausting talking to Councilor Mandle, who loved so much to dominate the arguments before the Council.  It was so gracious of the Council to allow him to do so.  His ignorance was breathtaking.

“No, that's very true,” she said.  “But can you honestly tell me that that incident at the power plant seemed normal to you?  That there hasn't been an increase in weird things happening?  Can you tell me that you think everything's just peachy?  How do you explain that incident?”

“Weather phenomena go in phases. We're just in a particularly weird phase right now.”

“Yes, well once again, I repeat my prior point. What weather phenomenon causes half of someone's roof to just...vanish?”

“DOCTOR SUMMA,” the voice of the High Mage boomed into the Council chambers, echoing wrongly across the great glass sphere and vibrating in the heads of everyone present. 

“Yes, High Mage?”

“WHAT, PRAY TELL, IS YOUR POINT?”

“With great respect, High Mage, my point is the same as it's always been.  The Guild is concerned.  There's a serious degradation in the quantum structure of reality, warping the laws of physics.  You can only break the rules for so long before...”

“BEFORE WHAT?”

“We really don't know.  But certainly an increase in the kinds of incidents we're already seeing,” said Dr. Summa.  “With due honor and respect to you and to the Magehood, that's really not something we want.”

“DID YOU COME WITH ANY PARTICULAR PROPOSAL IN MIND?”

“The same proposal we always have, High Mage.  For the Council to acknowledge the problem.  For a willingness to discuss a fix.  For us to do something.”

Dr. Summa cast her eyes about the chamber, looking for allies.  She needed to get at least Flurgeson on her side, and although Flurgeson had a reputation as a “careful considerer of the issues,” he had a history of taking positions that were so contradictory it was a wonder he could keep his brain from flying apart in all directions. 

“If I may, High Mage.”  It was Councilor Randell Pon, a recent immigrant to Chelandia from the Republic of Galad Fen far to the east.  Pon was smart, but completely uninterested in things that he didn't find interesting.  Like this.

“I just wonder if we might table this discussion to a later date.  I have a rather urgent appointment elsewhere in the city.  I'm sure Miss...er...Summa, is it?”

“That's Doctor Summa.”  She bristled. 

“Sorry.  Doctor Summa, will be happy to come back and brief us on this issue later, when we have more time to consider it.”

“Plus, I have dinner reservations,” said Councilor Mandle.  “Really, really hard to get dinner reservations.  At Flago.  I mean, Flago.”

“Sure, your dinner reservations are certainly more important than this discussion,” Dr. Summa responded in a voice that could have dissolved a building. 

“WE WILL TABLE THIS DISCUSSION,” reverberated the High Mage.

And that was that.  Dr. Summa had had her twenty minutes, and now the discussion was closed.  She balled up one hand in a tight fist of frustration, but kept a civil smile on her face. 

“Yes, High Mage.  All honor to you and to the Magehood,” she said, bowing her head. 

“All honor to the Magehood,” the Council repeated in unison. 

The Councilors filed out of the chamber, and Dr. Summa swept her illuminated runes into her briefcase.  She tore off the ceremonial beard and balled it up in a pocket of her robe, and then pulled out her Scroll and unrolled the flexiglass screen.  She had a one word message from Eddie. 

Dinner?

She typed “Sure” back to him.  A few seconds later, his response lit up her screen in green letters.

Great.  8:00.  Thad's.

She typed “Great” back to him.

           It'd be a relief to see Eddie, actually.  He'd been pretty tight-lipped about his missions lately, which meant that they had to be dangerous.