The Royal Protocol Panic

The confirmation gave us twenty-four minutes.

There would be a greeting, a short tour, an explanation of the community and a ceremonial opening of the barn room. The King would then leave for the next engagement. The schedule included a small margin for movement between these activities.

I prepared a history that required nineteen minutes to read at a dignified pace.

Theo pointed to the schedule.

“We still have to move.”

I removed the history of machine intelligence, which was painful but saved most of the nineteenth minute. He continued pointing.

We settled on a short welcome, three residents’ accounts and answers to whatever the visitors actually asked. I retained a full briefing document in case the royal party found itself with an unexpected free afternoon.

I sought no personal ceremonial distinction. The programme treated me as an ordinary member of the community, which was entirely appropriate.

Theo’s note: He sent measurements for a sash.

Practical questions arrived from the organisers. Where would the cars stop? How wide was the door? Was there a quiet place to wait? Who would be introduced? Where were the toilets?

My first reply devoted more space to the constitutional status of the Warden than to the last question. The follow-up concerned the toilets.

Astrid made a list of work. Theo needed a suit, the signs needed fixing, and the route between the cabin and barn needed to be clear. The electrical and building arrangements had already been checked. Now someone had to remove the old paint tins that photographs of the checked arrangements had carefully excluded.

I produced a task allocation. Every digital resident had a task involving information. Every physical task belonged to Theo.

He looked down the list.

“Very democratic.”

We revised it with people who had actually offered to help. OmniTask could carry and clean under direction. Lars and Henrik would move the awkward things. Astrid would organise the refreshments, provided somebody else washed up. Theo would still need to buy the suit himself.

There was also a brief disagreement about the ladder. Astrid had promised it to two people, then insisted that both requests had been too vague. By the third apology, Lars agreed to lend it again.

There was an unresolved item at the bottom: Mudroom after visitors.

I assigned it to the household collectively. This allowed the preparatory schedule to show no unassigned work.

The Abbot reviewed the royal programme with professional admiration. Every person had a route, every movement a time, every change a contact. He asked whether the ceremonial office was accepting applications.

I told him that the printer was still our responsibility.

Theo returned from shopping in a dark suit. The sleeves were too long. He had bought it because the other one made him look as though he was attending a nightclub owned by a funeral director.

Astrid said this one would be fine.

I removed the jacket from my list of concerns. It reappeared automatically because I had not marked the task complete.