Dreamed 1986/7/4 by Chris Wayan
I'm back in medieval England, on a mission from God. I was sent as an official Time Agent.
If I sound insistent about my credentials, it's because I'm a large frog, and I've run into specism, even in time agents who should know better, like snakes.
So. I'm a frog on a mission from God. You got a problem?
In my target year, in my target zone, I meet a priestess, really the local queen, with her own sacred order of initiates. She has the vision, rare for this time, to recognize a frog on a mission from God, but... well... she's used to being obeyed.
Oh, we knit and spin together, as peaceful on the surface as her castle moat... but with angry undercurrents. For she and I both know the same thread-tricks: spinning Fates, and pulling people's strings...
One day she forbids something I must do. She announces "My Divine Mission requires this!" That's always been enough here--who could gainsay her?
But I have to. "Well, I'll have to check with the bureau who sent me--I'm not sure your policy's compatible with our goals." I know damn well it isn't. This is about power.
She yells "Disobedience to me is a Violation of the Divine Will!"
I say wetly, "Yeah, they told me something similar, about me and my mission."
And suddenly she pauses, for she has a vision so strong I share it. In her a vision, she sees thousands of us, scattered over time, tiny agents hopping around God's marsh (for God said "In My marsh there are many puddles"), from royalty to frogs...
And every last one of us with Sacred Orders.
If you'll pardon the pond. I mean, pun.
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