Rocket Boy and the Geek Girls
Page 32
“Oh, right.“
“Where was I. Oh, yeah. The kicker is, Skeeter is a feminist! Ain’t that a kick in the pants? Those snotty New York editors will go for that in a heartbeat. They love ballbusting girl action heroes.“
“I’ve heard that.“
“You can’t buy a book without one of the damn things in it any more.“
“True.“
“Part of the reason why I’m a collector. I can’t stand how political correctness has screwed up the literature of ideas.“
“Exactly.“
“I mean, how many ideas do feminists have?“
“Pullyu, I think you should look through this box now.“
“Why? You got all the good stuff out already?“
“Okay, never mind. I’ll do it myself later.“
“No, no. I’ll do it. I don’t know why you would want me to — he-ey, look at this! Volume twenty-eight, mint condition!“
“Not quite. Creased back cover.“
“Still! And it’s one of Sorenson’s Dangerlys. He did the closest copy of the authentic Lapeidis voice. I mean, none of them can really do justice to vintage Lapeidis. Volumes one through eighteen, that is. After that he kind of fell off.“
“After that he kind of had a ghost writer.“
“You believe that filthy canard, do you? Tsk. And you a bookseller! Lapeidis was a great man, and he could write the ass off a donkey, and you are not worthy to lick his friggin’ boots.“
“Fine. Do you want volume twenty-eight? Because I’m going to bag it and tag it if you don’t.“
“Oh, I’ll take it. Pushme’s only got three of these. They’re a drug on the market, really. But getting scarcer. Another fifteen years, these will sell almost as well as the really good Bark Dangerlys.“
“Really. Good.“
oOo
“You’ll never guess what I’ve been doing.“
“What, Pushme?“
“Corresponding with Jake Lapeidis’s daughter! And what do you know, she’s a fan!“
“Are you going to buy those books?“
“What? Oh, these? No, I was just holding them. You’ll never believe this, but she’s read volume ten! Practically nobody has, who’s talking! She told me all about it.“
“Imagine that.“
“It’s all about a time paradox, of course. It’s a true möbius. That’s where it starts at one end and twists in a figure eight and comes right back to the beginning —“
“I know what a möbius is.“
“And it’s as big as a building. It’s huge. That’s why nobody knows what it is. They think it’s just this badly laid-out building.“
“Plausible.“
“So Bark Dangerly becomes his own worst enemy. And then he has to fight himself. And of course he outwits himself, I mean, he’s Bark Dangerly, right? He’s the hero! This ain’t one of your high modernist science fiction novels of valium and betrayal and nothing happens until the moujik hangs himself in the barn on page three hundred. Nosirree! So he licks him, but good! But he can’t leave it there! Because that means, the past wins! Get it? If the good Bark Dangerly beats the bad Bark Dangerly he has become, then he never becomes the bad Bark Dangerly, and they never have the battle. Or worse, he kills off the bad Bark Dangerly, and he has no future!“
“Complicated.“
“You betcha. So I bet you can’t guess what Dangerly does.“
“I’m afraid to.“
“C’mon.“
“Pushme, I’m trying to pay bills. That’s painful enough.“
“So what he does is, he deliberately goes bad! Yep! That’s right! Bark Dangerly becomes a villain on purpose, so he’ll have someone to outwit when he comes along to stop his own nefarious plans! And then, and then, this is so brilliant, he lets his past self reform him! Get it? Then he can move on to the next adventure! God, I love it.“
“You have lunch yet, Pushme?“
“Yeah. Liver and onions.“
“I thought so.“
“Isn’t that the best Bark Dangerly plot ever? I can’t wait to read it. If that book comes in here, I’ll buy it. Any price. I don’t care. I’d do anything to read it before Pullyu can get his greasy paws on it.“
“I know.“
“I mean, anything. Make no mistake, he’d do the same to me. If he found two copies, he’d destroy one before he’d share. And let me tell you I’m never lending that jerk a book again as long as I live. Did I ever tell you —“
“Yep.“
“ — about the time I lent him my entire first edition Lensman series to read, and he never gave it back? Well, after that, I can tell you, I’m going to taunt him with this. I’m going to post it to the Barklist. Not the whole story, mind you. Hints. To torment him.“
oOo
“You’ll never guess what that bastard Pushme did.“
“Posted on Barklist he knows something about volume ten?“
“He posted on Barklist he knows something about volume ten!“
“The bastard.“
“And you want to know the creepy thing? He’s almost kind of got it right.“
“I thought you haven’t read volume ten.“
“I mean my volume ten. It’s done, you know. I sent it off yesterday. I sent it to the same guys who are putting out the reprints now. Say, seems like all they put out these days is reprints. Not that I mind having Dune in a clean copy. One I can read, not a collector copy.“
“You didn’t buy one from me yet.“
“Uh, didn’t I? Are you sure?“
“Yep. I bought four copies, and they’re still over there on the new books rack.“
“Boy, it used to be half the store. What’s up with that?“
“I dunno, Pullyu. Maybe I can’t afford to buy new books.“
“C’mon, I bring in tons of used books. You must sell ’em to somebody.“
“I guess I must.“
“There wouldn’t be room to swing a cat in here if you didn’t — oops, sorry about that. I’ll pick ’em up for you.“
“That’s okay, I have to re-alphabetize them anyway.“
“You don’t want my help for that. With my darn dyslexia, I put books back wrong on the shelf all the time.“
“I know.“
“So I don’t bother trying anymore. It’s a kindness, really.“
“Thanks.“
“This way you know it’s done right.“
oOo
“I learned something new about Jake Lapeidis.“
“Oh, hello, Pushme.“
“You going to eat all of those fries? I don’t care if they’re cold. I like ’em cold.“
“They’re hot. It’s my lunch.“
“That’s okay, I can stand ’em hot. Add more ketchup. In her last e-mail, I heard from Lapeidis’s daughter, you’re not going to believe this.“
“If she says it, I might not.“
“Get this. He might still be alive.“
“Nuts.“
“Truth.“
“She doesn’t know that.“
“She thinks, anyway.“
“Why? The guy would be a hundred and ten.“
“Yeah, but science fiction writers live a long time. Think of it! He could still be writing!“
“Oh, I doubt that.“
“No, seriously! What if he is? What if he, like, burnt out and became a beachcomber or something for a while, but then he started writing again? You should have got vinegar for these fries. They’re too thick for ketchup.“
“Beachcomber. Why didn’t I think of that? I bet they never have to look at a book.“
“He could be Elmore Leonard and we’d never know!“
“Sure, Pushme.“
“What if he, like, got a wild hair one day and wrote some more Bark Dangerly? Wouldn’t that be a gas?“
“Total gas.“
“And here’s a rumor that’ll knock your socks off.“
“Mm.“
“They’re talking about repr
inting volume ten! Somebody leaked it out of New York.“
“Imagine that.“
“Imagine that! I can’t wait. And by golly, if they do, I’ll buy it new this time!“
oOo
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. You’re not going to believe this. You are not going to believe this. I don’t believe it myself. I’m hysterical.“
“You certainly are, Pullyu.“
“They did it! They bought my book!“
“No kidding! Which one?“
“They bought my Bark Dangerly and the Möbius Machine!“
“They paid for it? How long was it?“
“Five hundred and fifty manuscript pages. I thought it’d kill me. But you know, once you sit down, seems like you can’t get up without writing at least a couple of pages, and then you get interested and before you know it your cocoa’s cold and it’s bedtime. I think I could really get into this. They offered me — this is so incredible — they offered me a four book contract!“
“How much?“
“Not very much, actually. If you spread it out over the four books with basket accounting, it doesn’t come to a lot of money. But who cares? I’m a writer! I’m gonna be published! I’m so happy I might have a heart attack.“
“Not in my store, please.“
“Seems the market for Golden Age reprints is really strong right now, well, stronger than for new stuff, and they want to bring out all their old Lapeidis titles again. Only expanded. They really liked how I did the Lapeidis voice. I guess people want fat books now. Thank goodness! Because I’m going to do the expanded reissues! That’s publisher talk for newer and fatter.“
“I know, I know.“
“My name will be on the inside cover, and the front cover will say, ‘From the Jake Lapeidis UniverseTM.’ Kind of a big word, Universe. Makes you realize how big publishing really is.“
“Ah.“
“They want each volume to come up to at least five hundred manuscript pages.“
“Yikes.“
“I wish I knew what to do with the money. Seems stupid to put it into groceries. If I could think of a book I don’t have that I re-eally want. I want to blow it all in one wad. Treat myself. Celebrate, you know? I feel like I deserve it.“
“Hmmm.“
“But which book would I get? What one single title is really worthy of the occasion? Or even two?“
“Maybe you should buy all the books, Pullyu.“
“Oh, I don’t have that much money.“
“You could buy all the books in this store.“
“With my advance? Naaw.“
“Seriously. I’d sell you the store for the price of your advance. Building and all.“
“It’s not that much money.“
“Cash down, hand you the keys, walk away.“
“It’s only a thousand dollars.“
“A thousand dollars? For four five-hundred-page books? Basket accounting?“
“You think I got rooked?“
“You need an agent, Pullyu. You have to expect the first contract to be a sucker bet.“
“That’s probably true. Besides, I just know I’m going to love writing these books.“
“Expanding.“
“I mean, expanding.“
“By the time you hate it, Pullyu, they’ll have to pay you more money.“
“Is that how it works?“
“That’s how it works. So. How about it? Buy the store?“
“I — I don’t know what to say.“
“Try saying, ‘Sorry, Pushme, I don’t have volume ten in stock right now.’“
“‘Sorry, Pushme — sorry, Pushme’ — oh wow.“
“Wow is right.“
“Oh, my gosh.“
“That, too.“
“He’d have to sell his used books to me.“
“That’s right.“
“I could write right here in the store. Nobody ever comes in here. It would be perfect. Write all day in my own store — in my own science fiction bookstore — people bringing me collector’s items instead of me coming here — and when that bastard Pushme comes in here with his pathetic box of rejects, he has to talk to me!“
“If you have time for him. With all the books you’ll be writing.“
“If I have time. Wow. ‘Sorry, Pushme, but I’m on a deadline. Leave the box and I’ll tell you what it’s worth tomorrow.’ Wow.“
“A thousand dollars cash. When the check clears, you get the keys.“
“We can go across the street and I’ll withdraw the money right now. Cash, right?“
“Let’s just say, I won’t accept used books in trade.“
“Hah-hah! Wow. A bookstore. Hello, I’d like to make a withdrawal. You want a cashier’s check?“
“Cash, thanks.“
“No problemo. Here. Gosh, my hands are trembling.“
“Pretty exciting, eh?“
“Man, my life changed, just like that!“
“Mine too, Pullyu.“
“You look a lot older out here.“
“It’s the daylight, Pullyu. I never see it.“
“You’re looking pretty tottery. I can’t believe you let me have the store for a thousand dollars! What are you going to do with the money?“
“Spend it fast.“
“Maybe you oughta see a doctor.“
“I’m going to see a bartender. If I live, I’ll become a beachcomber.“
“Hey, it won’t offend you if I change the store name?“
“Why not? It’s yours. What you going to call it?“
“I was thinking something ‘in,’ you know? So only our kind of people would get it.“
“Like?“
“Something like, ‘Who Killed Science Fiction?’“
oOo
Jennifer Stevenson...
...has far, far too many friends who own bookstores, so she can testify that they really do live a long time, even on half-orders of french fries. Their message to the world: Be careful what you wish for.
Rocket Boy and the Geek Girls
Irene Radford
“Good luck with your posting, Evan. I don’t envy you. Survive this one and we’ll have better for you when you get back,“ Captain Anon Publis, harbormaster of Ex Libris Space Station said, squeezing my shoulder as if I were an equal.
In other words, the youngest pilot with the newest certification date got the ugliest job.
I took the assignment chit into the data port on my wrist and filed it right alongside the newly minted Master Papers. Captain Evan Pixel. I’d waited a long time for that title.
Twenty minutes later I found the ship in need of a captain. Book View Café was docked at the far end of the cheapest cargo bay. I shoved my data port into the reader at the primary hatch and requested permission to come aboard.
The reader mulled over my qualifications and Captain Anon Publis’ signature a long time, almost a full ten seconds, before sliding the hatch open for me. Old inefficient equipment. Cheap lodgings. Not a plum assignment.
Five women awaited me on the bridge. They all looked alike. I heard snatches of conversations and monologues. Vague phrases like “forcefield containment of opposite polarization“ and “elemental drift.“
“Geeks,“ I breathed through my teeth, hoping none of them heard me. The only way to tell them apart was how they wore their magnifiers. Blonde, brunette, or redhead, didn’t matter. All Geeks looked alike, more interested in the science of their jobs than anything else.
“We pay recommended flat salary for a licensed captain,“ the brunette with spectacles perched atop her head said without looking at me. She studied long columns, lots of columns, of numbers on her screen.