Advanced Mythology

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Advanced Mythology Page 8

by Jody Lynn Nye


  Dola looked at Keith, met Holl’s eyes and shook her head.

  “Haven’t you already got pride of ownership already?” Holl asked. “You’ve given it a name.”

  “Origami is the brand name,” Keith corrected him. “If I owned something this wonderful, it would deserve a personal name. Even the power source is new. It can last practically forever between charges. I wonder if I can make up a slogan to relate to that?”

  “And if this is such a marvel that a man can’t resist owning one the moment he sees it, why doesn’t everyone know about it?”

  “Well, because it’s not on the market yet. The campaign won’t get under way for a couple of months. Nobody knows about it. That’s why we had to sign nondisclosure … oh.” Keith felt his cheeks burn. “I suppose I shouldn’t even be telling you.” For the first time he seemed aware that he was surrounded by dozens of people, all listening intently with hearing far better than his. Tay, nearby, tipped him a sly wink. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’ll get into incredible trouble. You ought to read the form they made me sign.”

  Holl chuckled. “You can rely upon our discretion. But this must chafe at your open-hearted soul, not being able to talk. You can hardly restrain yourself now.”

  “Yeah,” Keith said. “I have to learn to keep my mouth shut. I must have babbled at Dola for more than three hours solid. Sorry, honey.”

  “Well, it was better than the terrible music on the radio,” Dola said, graciously.

  “Dola will have to go back in a couple of weeks or a month to film commercials,” Keith told Holl and Tay. “They only needed her for a day this time to photograph her with the new season’s shoes for the Fairy Footwear catalog. They’ll do anything to keep her. She’s a natural in front of the camera.” Dola preened.

  “I am glad you’re enjoying your job, daughter,” Tay said. “I don’t see it lasting forever.”

  “Nor do I,” Dola said, with a maturity beyond her years. “Big Folk have no attention span at all. Even while I speak to them they are thinking of a dozen other things. They will find another face to sell their product. In the meantime I like seeing the city.”

  “It gives you a good connection to the outside world,” Holl said. “I prefer gentle interaction to the fearful avoidance we’ve become accustomed to practicing.”

  “Take care, uncle,” Tay said with a wry smile. “You preach an ultra-Progressive lifestyle, and it will enrage the elders.”

  Holl shook his head. “No matter what I say it will enrage them. They do not like Dola going among the Big Ones. They’re afraid one day she will not come back.” Keith felt ice in his belly as Holl said that. It had happened before, and turned the whole village upside down.

  “Well, I’ll take Dola up and back whenever I’m around,” Keith said. “I’ll make sure she’s all right.”

  “We appreciate that. Even the Conservatives acknowledge that you can be trusted—a main objection is with Dola allowing herself to be photographed in the first place.”

  “You don’t know about advertisers,” Keith said cheerfully. “They have no idea that she’s the real thing. They assume she’s a kid who likes to play dress-up. Everything in their world is artificial.”

  “Are you certain you can exist within that culture?” Holl asked. “You are the one who insists that things be real.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Keith assured him. “I can always find a job in a different field if it goes sour, but for now I like advertising. It’s fun.”

  “And what about school? The Master will expect you to attend classes and produce your homework on schedule no matter where you are—and no more last-minute transmissions, either. But what about your regular program?”

  “I already called my advisor. I’ve got an appointment in the morning to talk about changing my program to Saturdays from full time,” Keith said. He took a sheaf of much-folded papers out of his pocket and flipped through them until he found what he wanted. “You see? This’d be much neater if I could keep all my lists on a PDA,” he said. “I could have it search my lists for keywords.”

  Dola groaned and threw up her hands.

  “… Here it is,” Keith said, finding the right note. “Ten thirty. I’ve checked the schedule, and I’ve got it all planned out. It may be a struggle to fit me into the classes, but they should understand about job offers that can’t wait. It might take me five years to earn my degree instead of two, but I can’t let an opportunity like this get away. It’s the fast escalator to a job with PDQ. Dorothy thinks my chances are great even if the client changes its mind. It’ll mean a lot of commuting, and a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it. I think it will be fun.”

  Dola, becoming bored with adult talk, stood up from the couch.

  “Thank you, Keith Doyle, for taking care of me and driving me up and back and taking me to the shopping center.” She gave him a sly smile, a conspiracy between friends. She pitched her voice louder. “I am sure everyone will like their presents.” At the word “presents,” heads began to perk up all over the workroom. She dragged her duffel bag from where she had dropped it near the door to the center of the room. Her father watched over her shoulder as she zipped it open.

  “What have you done, daughter?” Tay asked indulgently as the girl ostentatiously removed package after package from the suitcase. “Bought out the whole of the fabric store?”

  “Fabrics?” asked Candlepat, abandoning the music box she was assembling. Even dour Catra left the bookkeeping on her desk to gather around the little girl, who handed out bundles right and left. The recipients cooed and exclaimed over the parcels, holding up the lengths of colorful cloth against themselves, bursting out with ideas about clothing and fashions. In the middle of the rainbow, Dola sat happily dealing out presents.

  “Boy,” Keith said. “I could learn a lot about advertising from her. She’s a natural. Look at her grab their attention with one word.”

  “Like advertisers, she plays upon their self-interest. She brought them presents.”

  “What a memory she has, too,” Keith said. “She dragged me all over the place picking things out. She went out of there with a pack on her back with something for everyone, just like Santa Claus.”

  “Ah, well, they’re her wages,” Holl said. “She knows some of it must go for the support of us all, but the rest is hers to enjoy as she wishes. And she enjoys sharing. She hasn’t a single selfish cell within her.”

  “I have notions and buttons. I did not forget the elastic this time, Aunt Maura,” Dola said with authority, handing over a flat package. “It is white. I hope that is what you wanted.”

  “Perfect, my darling,” Maura said, hefting Asrai to her other hip. Quick as lightning, the two-year-old reached past her mother’s hand for the paper-wrapped packet and unwrapped it. She looked at the stringy tape and tried to pull it off the card. It snapped back into shape. Asrai regarded it with a puzzled expression so funny Keith laughed. “Thank you so much. Is that the flannel for Asrai’s sleepers?”

  “Yes,” Dola said. “Do you like it?”

  “I think so. I can’t quite see it.” Maura twisted, trying to maneuver a very active baby on her hip and unwrap a package at the same time. Marcy came to the rescue.

  “I’ll take her, Maura,” the dark-haired girl said, kneeling down. The baby leaped into her arms, cooing. She loved Marcy. All the children did. Asrai snuggled close to the much bigger human, chattering out a running commentary on the present-giving.

  “Not long before Asrai’s running everywhere,” Holl said, watching with parental pride. “And she talks like a magpie, though I can’t understand nineteen out of every twenty words.”

  “Maybe she’s speaking magpie,” Keith said. Marcy’s great with her. Holl saw her cradle the little one with an expression of hungry yearning.

  “Aye, it wouldn’t surprise me about my little sprite.… I wonder how long she and Enoch will wait to have their own babes.” The Big student beside him nodded, knowing Holl wasn’t
talking about Asrai.

  Holl was sorry for Enoch, even as he rejoiced that his enigmatic brother-in-law had found the lifemate of his heart. The Big Ones did not live as long as his kind. Still, as Shakespeare put it so well, t’was better to have loved and lost.… Marcy was a good addition to the village, whatever protests her family and the Conservatives might put forward. She fit in well with the personalities, some of whom were strident and difficult enough that even their relatives found them trying. She was biddable but not easily pushed when she chose to stand her ground, took instruction, had a scholarly mind and a sense of humor, though very gentle, and liked a good discussion. It was sad that her family wasn’t taking her romance seriously. He couldn’t have borne that himself, though that was just the opposite of his own life, where everything he did was taken too seriously indeed. But he’d always been taken a mite too seriously, perhaps. A more pompous soul would have taken advantage of that. Holl grinned. He’d been pompous enough with Keith Doyle, but the boy did invite it, acting as foolishly as a colt.

  “I don’t think it’ll be too long,” Keith said, watching Marcy dandle the child, who was so small in proportion to her. “But I know her: not until they get married. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her folks yet, but I’ll have plenty of opportunities now that I’ll be up there most of the week. I’ll be in at PDQ full time, for now. I’ve arranged to move into the Crash Site with Pat and Dunn. Poor Pat thought he’d gotten rid of me, but at least I can take on part of the rent and lift the burden off Dunn and his venture capital.”

  “That’s a very heavy schedule,” Maura said sympathetically. She came over to show Holl the fabric for baby clothes. “Are you sure you can do it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Keith said, blithely. “I’ve got it all worked out. Dunn’s working on this voice-recognition software that ignores exterior noise. I’m testing it for him in my car—you know what kind of a rumble my engine makes. So far it’s terrific. I can do my homework while I drive. If I install it in your computer or Diane’s I can print out at either end of my trip. It’s perfect. No down time. Chicago on weekdays, college on weekends. See, everything’s under control.”

  “And where will you live on these weekends?” Maura asked. “You are giving up your rooms here to pay for your share of the apartment.”

  Holl had to laugh at the stricken look on Keith’s face. “You can stay here, widdy. We’ll find a bed for those long shanks of yours.”

  “Thanks,” Keith said, wiping imaginary sweat off his face. “I thought for a moment I was going to have to ask Diane for the use of her couch. She’s not going to be happy with the situation anyhow.”

  “I applaud you, Keith Doyle, but the lovely Diane is not going to like the change.”

  Keith smacked himself in the forehead. “I forgot to call her.” He took the blue-green cell telephone out of his pocket.

  “No, use our phone,” Holl insisted. “A local call will surely be less costly than your per-minute charge. The Internet banner ads are full of details about them. It is a costly indulgence that in this case is unnecessary.”

  “Thanks,” Keith said, hoisting himself to his feet. He brushed an accumulation of sawdust off his front and backside. “You have got to see Doris, Holl. It’s amazing.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Holl said. “In the meantime, keep it to yourself.”

  * * *

  But Keith found that difficult to do. Nearly everyone in the workroom had been eavesdropping, their sensitive hearing picking up every word over the sound of power tools, and it instantly became the subject of intense gossip. When Keith went into the house to use the telephone, they were waiting for him. At the head of a contingent of Conservative elves, Keva marched up to confront Keith, hands firmly clamped to her hips.

  “What’s this nonsense you’ve been filling my granddaughter’s ears with?” she shrilled. “All this machinery, this technology—it’s unnecessary!”

  “But it’s fun, Keva,” Keith said. “Sure you can live without it, but it’s like anything else: it’s meant to make life easier.”

  “I don’t need my life made easier!”

  “Well, you know Big Folks,” Keith said, sitting down on the floor so he was at eye-level to her. “We’re lazy. We like labor-saving devices. It all started with carpet-sweepers, you know. They were mechanical, not electronic. And typewriters with moveable type …”

  Keva interrupted him with an impatient wave. “This thing you want, this Doris, doesn’t sweep floors. What’s it really for?”

  “Well,” Keith said, “it helps organize the little things in your life. If you want to make lists or take notes, you can do that. If you want to take pictures, it takes pictures. It can carry games you can play anywhere. Or video. Or if you have time when you’re traveling it can teach you how to play the piano. The piano emulation software is going to be included as an extra.” As the expressions around him grew more uncomprehending, Keith took off on a full flight of enthusiasm. “This device is capable of full streaming video, audio, interactive gaming, shared gaming through infrared or radio-wave connection, or fully online, either modem or wireless web. It has a huge memory, a fast processor, and shielded interfaces. You can even get an earpiece so you can listen to music or talk on the phone while the unit is open on your lap. Uh …”

  He realized he had made a mistake. The more technical his babble became, the more sour the faces of Keva and those other Conservatives in the kitchen grew. In fact, he had made another mistake in sitting down. Now he was crowded by angry Little Folk, all complaining at the top of their voices. He had no room to get up without stepping on someone’s feet.

  “Must ye amuse yourself to death?” demanded Curran, white-haired clan chief of Holl’s family, going chin to chin with Keith. “That’s the trouble with ye Big Folk. Ye won’t enjoy real life, when it’s right underneath yer nose.”

  “Do ye need so many toys?” Shelogh asked. She was Catra’s and Candlepat’s mother. “A camera, if ye have no talent to draw yourself, a book, and a pad of paper give you all the same pleasure, with no batteries.”

  “But everything’s all in the same toy,” Keith pointed out. “With it you don’t need the rest, including pen and paper—even books. It’ll hold several in memory. Saves lots of weight. You’d like that.” He appealed to the Master, who appeared behind the other Folk. “You can go to a lot of sites and download all kinds of books. Lots of them are free.”

  “Even so, this device is unlikely to haf afailable books for download ve vould find uf interest.”

  “True,” Keith admitted. “So Newton’s memoirs are unlikely to be digitized. For now. But if you had a PDA, your notes would be in one place.”

  “Until you ran out of batteries,” Tiron pointed out dryly.

  “I’ve got a secret weapon,” Keith said, with a sly tap at the side of his nose. “Enoch taught me how to recharge them. But look, you’re already surrounded by technology. It’s here. You use it every day.”

  “Too much surrounded!” exclaimed Aylmer. “Telephones! Automobiles! Helicopters!”

  “Central heating,” the Master pointed out in a calm voice. “Vashing machines. Power tools. Vhy should ve not make use of that vhich is already here and available? That vhich ve do not vant is easily rejected. Ve should take advahntage of reliable power that doesn’t exhaust the user to maintain.”

  “We’re forgetting our past,” Keva argued. “The Old Ones would ne’er fall into such ease.”

  “Och, that’s not so,” Tiron said with a dismissive wave, “and it would be as well to know that the Old Ones are interested in the new ways as well as the traditional ones. The Niall would like this Pee-Dee-Ay as much as Keith Doyle, so he would. Why, they had their computer months before we did.”

  “Hmmph!” Keva snorted. “And now just because we all have the evil boxes doesn’t mean it was a good thing for us to do.”

  Tiron looked as though he wanted to laugh, but kept it in, for which Keith was grateful.
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  “And do you not like hearing the voices of those you thought were lost to you forever? I know my kin do. They’d not have let me go unless they could be certain of my wellbeing. This is so much less expensive than long distance telephone calls.” He looked around at the crowd of Conservatives, matching them sneer for sneer. “Well?”

  “It’s all Keith Doyle’s fault anyhow,” Curran began, trying to stir up his fellows again. He might have succeeded if Holl had not marched in at that moment and cut Keith out of the crowd.

  “Shoo. He needs the telephone. You don’t want your voices heard, do you?”

  Most of the Conservatives fled in alarm. Tiron sauntered out, slapping Holl and Keith on the backs as he went. Cock of the walk, Holl thought, but I’m grateful for his support.

  The Elf Master was the last to leave, his blue eyes watchful behind his gold glasses, and his mouth pursed in amusement.

  At last Keith was able to get to his feet.

  “Boy, now I know how you feel in the middle of a crowd of Big Folks,” he said, brushing off the seat of his pants. “It’s a real disadvantage.”

  “I apologize for that,” Holl said, making sure the last of them was gone. “They’re all looking for a scapegoat to shout at, and you fed one of their pet complaints to bursting.”

  “Still bent about the server under the table?” Keith asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Holl sighed. “Though they consider it a concession to avoiding further interference in our business. Any mention of it sets them off.”

  “Sounds like the symptom of something else,” Keith said wisely. “Any problems I ought to know about?”

 

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