He feels an open summons and lets it grab him -
"I swear I didn't do it on purpose, why does everyone think I did it on purpose," says Miles, aggrieved.
Cam snorts. "There, there. At least you didn't get a hostile accident-demon. Then there would be some serious upset aimed at you."
"You're told correctly. I am awesome. Appreciate me. Give me terraforming instructions, I have always wanted to terraform a planet."
"On the one hand, I must thank you for maintaining public order by not walking around with wings and a tail. On the other hand, I'm curious about what they looked like."
"I'll show you if you like and if there's someplace to dispose of or burn them the next time I need to take them off."
"Oh, go ahead. If nothing else, I can mount them on a plaque and stuff them in the attic."
appears his wings, dusky blue, five-"fingered" and spread out to full fourteen-foot span, and the tail, which goes down to his knees and ends in a tidy little barb, matched in color. He does a turn, and folds the wings (the tops go over his shoulders neatly), and wags the tail, and sits back down again.
"That feels much better. You wouldn't believe how accustomed I've gotten to the extras. I didn't even add the tail until a few decades ago."
"Well, I'm sure we can arrange for you not to have to go without them for too long on the way to Komarr."
"...but somebody has to do it and the list of people trustworthy enough to handle it and modern enough not to mind the wings and tail is full of people busier than I am," Miles finishes for him with a sigh.
"The idea that this is a modernity thing is very strange to me, coming as I do from the twenty-second century."
"If you came from our Earth you'd be at least somewhat more prepared for our planet's tangled history."
"From what I've been able to gather, the timelines didn't diverge that much until well after the date of my death. Anyhow. I will not suffer terribly from being a wingless tailless creature whenever this is convenient."