Free Wine of the Gods 26: Embassy by Pam Uphoff

here. I don't think we really need whatever a grotto is, and if you mean this long ditch, it'll just be a mosquito swamp after the first rain . . . " Poor Q, trying to argue with the a merged collection of powerful men.
    "Q, come away." Xen hovered at the edge of the activity zone. Quick, divert them! "Hey, Q, do you think we'll have enough witches for cooking contests? We need a restaurant with a big kitchen up here by the road."
    "Xen! They need to stop! Don't give them any ideas."
    But the mages were looking over where Xen was pointing, and wandered that direction.
    Havi nodded. "Yeah, must have a kitchen and restaurant . . . "
    Xen backed away. "Umm, and food. Umm, wouldn't dinner be great, right about now?" He kept talking, as walls rose, weird pointy corners, an irregular fat star shape . . .
    He backed off and started pulling stuff out of bubbles. Tables, chairs, big covered pots of hot food . . .
    The smell did the trick, the guys' heads turning, the magic slowing, stopping as they reeled apart, suddenly looking weary and headachy. Not nearly as tired and headachy as anyone sensible would be. The old guys know a trick or three, don't they?
    Garit looked around with a grin. "And, do you know, I think we ought to schedule the work on the Comet Fall embassy for when we've got observers from both the Earth and the Empire here. If that doesn't impress them, nothing will."

***
    Once the mages were sacked out and snoring, Q made a quick trip to the beach and returned with bubbles full of sand. She and Xen spent the next day glazing the windows and the pyramid . . . she failed to resist and added a layer of dark mica from the basalt. It darkened the windows enough to maintain the threatening hulk of angular black rock aspect.
    "It's dark as all hell inside here." Xen complained.
    "There's some very pretty cross grained sandstone out there. Slice thin sheets and meld them to the walls." Q walked into the council chamber and pondered the empty space. If it sank a bit toward the podium, into that mostly useless basement, the visibility would be better. And then I think I'll just buy carpeting and upholstered benches and desks. Umm, go for a look somewhere between the Earth's and the Oner's big council rooms . . . furniture . . . hire some staff. We'll have to set up some bank accounts in all three worlds, and set up payroll so they have local currency and home currency, as they wish. Huh. Local currency, we need some neutral coinage we can use here.
    And places to spend it.
    And places to live. I'll have to throw up some small houses around the grotto.
    Old Gods! This is hideously complicated!
    And I'm probably being naïve and simplistic.
     
     

Chapter Eleven
15 Shaban 1400 yp
Paris, One World
     
     
    "Rael?"
    Rael looked around to find both her bosses hovering in the doorway. She gestured them in. Silly, these manners. The president can go wherever he wishes. But Orde and Urfa always ask, and that's just one more reason we're all so loyal to them.
    "We just talked to Endi. We've suggested that he attach the permanent gate to this Embassy World within the grounds of the Gate Complex, but on the far side of the warehouse area, where we can throw up another security zone. Agni . . . is not a happy man."
    Rael swallowed, dry mouthed. "So it's really going to happen. This is . . . one of those sudden step transformations that changes the whole world, like the arrival of the Prophets. Except this time it's going to affect the entire multiverse."
    The president nodded. "The risk is worth the potential. Just the opportunity to talk to Earth will be incredible."
    "And the Council wanted in on it, and once it leaked," Urfa tried for an innocent look, then gave it up. "There was no chance of keeping it secret. So there will be reporters and vid cams everywhere . . . "
    Orde glared at him. "And someone thinks my being there would be too much of a risk, so he's hogging the limelight."
    "With the election three months away . . . Orde's