© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“We have to get in there,” Matilda says.
“Yeah,” Annie agrees. “B-but I’m not really good at t-talking to strangers.”
“Don’t worry about it, Annie,” Matilda says. “We’ll go together.”
“Okay,” Annie says. “What’s the plan?”
“You basically work for the University, right?” Matilda says.
“I wouldn’t really say work, but, yeah, I guess,” Annie says.
“That’s good. We can use that,” Matilda muses. “Okay, so we go up to the guard and tell that we’re from the University because…”
“Because their base was constructed on the site of historical ruins and we need to survey before they can do any more renovations!” Annie says.
“Brilliant!” Matilda says. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on,” the guard says. “This is a private residence. No admittance, except on official business with the company of the Middelmerish Western Oceanic Company & Company.”
“Well,” Matilda says, barely having to pretend to be angry and indignant, “does the Middelmerish Western Oceanic Company & Company happen to know that their offices are built on a site of historical interest?”
“N-no,” the guard murmurs, rather taken aback by Matilda getting up in his business. “Well, I mean, I suppose to Viceroy might know, but if he does, he hasn’t told anybody.”
“Yeah,” Annie interjects, as ever, looking everywhere but at the face of the person she’s talking to. “And do you know what that means?”
“N-no,” the guard says again.
“It means,” Matilda says, somehow getting even more up in the guard’s business, “that we need to survey the whole place before you guys even think about thinking about renovating this building so you don’t smash up all the important historical bits that might be buried under the floorboards!”
“And you’d better let us in,” Annie says, both inspired by and trying to emulate Matilda’s relentless self-confidence and forward momentum, “of you’re in violation of the Statutes of Wintermorn, the Edict of Autumnseve, the Stern Suggestions of the First Day of Summer.”
She smiles sweetly up at the guard. Her gaze promptly flits away from his face.
“I could go on…”
The guard blinks in bemusement.
“What did you two say your names were?”
“Oh,” Matilda says, faltering slightly. “My name is, um, Professor Penelope P. Professor…sworth. And I am a, um, Professor in the University’s Department of Professor…ship.”
“Yeah!” Annie agrees. “You know, the Faculty of Education? She teaches people learning to be teachers!”
“Of course!” the guard says. “What an absolutely believable explanation!”
His brow creases suddenly and he turns to Annie.
“And who are you, little girl?”
“Um,” Annie says. “Um… Uh…”
“This,” Matilda says, putting her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Is my Co-Professor. And her name is, um, Ann…drea. Namesford. And she is, in fact, thirty-two years old and quite the accomplished and twelve-thousand percent real and genuine scholar.”
“I’m just really short,” Annie says. “I’m not actually a kid trying to sneak into your base, or something.”
“I’d be stupid not to take you are your word,” the guard says, standing aside to let Matilda and Annie inside.
“Man,” Matilda mutters once they’re in. “I wish you were my little sister.”
Just then, across Porthaven at the Lyte Public House, Addie, Rose, and Sally Lyte all sneeze.
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