Wizard's Holiday, New Millennium Edition by Diane Duane Page A

pretend-shocked look. “You mean you’re not going to just sit down on the stairs here and eat your bag lunch?”
    Kit gave Nita a look. “Please. I’m saving it for when I’m feeling homesick. Meanwhile… ”
    “Aha,” said a voice from just below knee level. “I heard you were coming through this morning.”
    Nita looked down. Standing by them was a big, stocky, silvery gray tabby cat, waving his tail, and Nita knew only she and Kit and Ponch could see him because he was using a form of selective invisibility that left him visible to wizards but invisible to other humans. “Hey, Urruah!” Nita said. “Dai stihó!”
    Urruah was one of the feline wizards who kept the New York worldgates running properly, cats being much better than other Earthly species at seeing the superstrings on which the gates’ structures were hung. “Ponch,” Kit said, “would you come sit over here so it doesn’t look like we’re talking to the floor? Thanks.”
    Ponch sat down next to Urruah, gazing at him. For a moment or so their gazes locked, then Ponch put down his ears, which had been up, and let his tongue hang out.
    Urruah’s whiskers went forward. “Nice doggy,” he said.
    Woof, woof, Ponch said, his eyes glinting. The irony was audible.
    “Good to see you,” Kit said. “Where’s Rhiow today?”
    “Our esteemed team leader,” Urruah said, “is over in the FF’arhleih Building—that’s the old post office over on Eighth Avenue—doing stasis work on the substrates there for when we move the worldgates over.”
    “I thought the new Penn Station project was on hold,” Nita said.
    “Once again,” Urruah said. “ Ehhif bureaucracy, such a wonderful thing.” He rolled his eyes. “But the more time you give the worldgate substrates to root, the less trouble the gates give you when you put them in place. We just didn’t realize there was going to be so much lead time, so Rhiow has to keep adjusting the wizardries on the mirror substrate to keep it from denaturing while we wait for the City to get its vhai’d act together. Meanwhile, I see you’re going somewhere for pleasure today… ”
    “A sponsored noninterventional excursus,” Nita said.
    Urruah grinned. “I did one of those once,” he said. “The species was aquatic: I didn’t feel dry for weeks afterward. Nice people, though. Where are they sending you?
    “Alaalu.”
    “Never heard of it,” Urruah said. “But why should I? With a billion homeworlds out there, and no time to see them all. By the way, were you issued subsidized jump-throughs?”
    “You mean the custom worldgates? Yeah,” Kit said.
    “And they’re wrapped up tight?” Urruah said. “You haven’t tried to commission them?”
    “Huh? No,” Nita said. “The docs said you absolutely shouldn’t do that.”
    “Okay, good,” Urruah said. “That’s fine.”
    “But why shouldn’t you?” Kit said.
    Urruah gave him a look. “You mean, why shouldn’t you take an open worldgate through an open worldgate? Please. Temporal eversions are bad enough. Those you can patch, or revert, if you know how. Even simple spatial ones, if the effect isn’t spread over too much area. But a multidimensional one—”
    “Everything turns inside out?” Nita said, guessing.
    Urruah gave her a pitying look. “The reality would be much more complex, much worse, and very much less reversible. Since I assume you like this planet as it is, and not as eighth-dimensional origami, let’s not do it. When are you two scheduled back?”
    “Two weeks.”
    “Well, have a good time,” Urruah said. “Try not to destroy your host civilization or anything. Going via the Crossings?”
    “Yeah,” Kit said.
    “I hoped so. Would you mind doing an errand as you pass through?”
    “Sure,” Nita said, “no problem.”
    “Great—I appreciate it. Stop by the Stationmaster’s office when you get there and tell him we’d appreciate it if they’d route the elective main trunk nontypical traffic around