Glasshouse - Charles Stross [142]
I just about manage to recover gracefully: “I’m Reeve. Been driving cabs long?”
He chuckles. “Since I got here. You’re a librarian? That’s a new one on me. I can get you downtown from here, but you’ll need to show me which block it’s on.”
“The merger,” I manage to say.
“Yeah, that’s the deal.” He taps a syncopated rhythm on the steering wheel, keeping time with the windscreen wipers, then hauls the cab through a sharp turn. “What does a librarian do all day?”
“What does a cab driver do?” I counter, still shaken. Those are manual controls! They put one of us in charge of a machine like that . . . They must be serious about turning this into a functioning polity. Which means they probably figure they’ve got the scoring levels loaded into our implants just about right. “People come in and they ask for books and we help them find them.” I shrug. “There’s more to it than that, but that’s it in a nutshell.”
“Uh-huh. Me, I drive around all day. Get a call on the wireless, go find the fare, take them where they want to go.”
“Sounds boring. Is it?”
He laughs. “Finding books sounds boring to me, so I guess we’re even! Downtown square, City Hall coming up. Where do you want to go from here?”
It’s not raining in the downtown district. “Drop me off here and I’ll walk the rest of the way,” I offer, but he’s having none of it.
“Naah, I need to learn where everything is, don’t I? So where is it?”
I surrender. “Next left. Go two blocks, then take the first right and park. You’re opposite it.”
I arrive at my workplace thoroughly shaken and not quite sure why. I already heard Yourdon talking about police sergeants and judges. Are we going to end up without any zombies at all, doing everything for ourselves? That would be how you’d go about running an accurate dark ages social simulation, I realize, but it means things are happening on an altogether larger scale than I’d imagined.
I’m a little late—the library is already open—but there are no customers, so I walk straight up to the counter and smile at Janis, who is nose-down in a book. “Hi!”
She jerks upright, then looks surprised. “Reeve. I wasn’t expecting you today.”
“Well, I got bored sitting around at home. Dr. Hanta said I could come in to work today if I wanted to and, well, it beats watching the rain, doesn’t it?”
Janis nods, but she looks unamused. She closes her book and puts it down carefully on the desk. “Yes, I suppose it does.” She stands up. “Want a cup of coffee?”
“Yes please!” I follow her back into the staff room. It feels really good to be back—this is where I belong. Janis is feeling low, but I can help sort that out. Then we’ve got a library to run! And what could be better than that? Ike can keep his smelly, dangerous cab.
“Well then.” Janis switches the kettle on and looks me up and down critically. “I may have to go out for a couple of hours. You going to be all right running the place on your own?”
“No problem!” I straighten my skirt. Maybe it was some lint?
She winces, then rubs her forehead. “Please, not so much enthusiasm this early in the morning. What’s gotten into you?”
“I’ve been bored!” I manage to keep myself from squeaking. “It’s been boring at home, and it’s been raining all week long.” I pull out the other chair and sit down. “You can’t go shopping every day of the week, there’s only so much cleaning and tidying you can do in one house, the television is boring, and I should have stopped here to borrow some books but I thought . . .” I wind down. What have I been thinking?
“I think I see.” A wan smile tugs at the corners of her eyes. “How’s Sam?”
I tense. “What makes you ask?”
The smile fades. “He was here yesterday. Wanted to talk about you, wanted to know my opinion . . . He doesn’t feel he can talk to you, so he has to let it out with someone else. Reeve, that’s not good. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, you can change the subject.” I say it lightly, but she just about freezes right up on the spot. “Sam’s taken offense to something I said, and we need to sort it out