The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [433]
I leaned forward and spoke to Tweed as Libris carried on.
“Is that why you invited all the C- and D-class Generics, Tweed?”
“What do you mean?”
“So you could force the vote? Your lies have the greatest effect on those with little influence in the Well—give them the power to change something and they’ll meekly follow you. After Libris has finished, I’ll give a rebuttal. When I’m done, you and Libris and Ultra Word™ will be history.”
Tweed glared at me as Libris went on to his third point. “UltraWord™ is too important to be loused up by you,” said Tweed with a sneer. “I agree there might be certain downsides, but overall the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks.”
“Benefits to who, Tweed? You and Kaine?”
“Of course. And you, too, if only you’d stop meddling.”
“What did Kaine buy you with?”
“He didn’t buy me, Next. We merged. His contacts in the Outland and my position at Jurisfiction. A fictional person in the real world and a real person in fiction. A better partnership it would be hard to imagine!”
“When they hear what I have to say,” I replied calmly, “they’ll never give you the vote.”
Tweed smiled that supercilious smile of his and stepped aside. “You want to have your say, Thursday? Go ahead. Make a fool of yourself. But remember this: Anything you say, we can refute. We can modify the rules, change the facts, deny the truth, with written proof. That’s the beauty of Ultra Word™—everything can be keyed in direct from Text Grand Central, and as you’ve so correctly gathered, everything there is controlled by Kaine, Libris and I. It’s as easy to change the facts as it is to write a stub axle failure on the Bluebird—or unlock a padlock, put Godot in a bag or create an outbreak of mispeling vyrus. Merely keystrokes, Next. We have the Great Library within our control—with the source text at our fingertips we can do anything. History will be good to us because we are the ones who shall write it!”
Tweed laughed. “Battle against UltraWord™ and you might as well try and canoe up a waterfall.”
He patted me patronizingly on the shoulder. “But just in case you’ve got something up your sleeve, six thousand highly trained Mrs. Danvers are on call, ready to move in on my word. We can even write a BookWorld rebellion if we want—the Council won’t be able to tell the difference between a real one and a written one. We will have this vote, Thursday.”
“Yes, you might,” I conceded. “All I want is for the characters to have their say with all the facts, not just yours.”
I looked at Libris on the stage. “Point ten,” he went on as Heathcliff looked at his watch impatiently, “all characters wherever they reside will be given four weeks’ holiday a year in whichever book they choose.”
There was a roar of applause. He was offering everything they wanted to hear, buying the inhabitants of the BookWorld with hollow promises.
Tweed spoke into his mobilefootnoterphone. “Miss Next wants to have her say.”
I saw Libris touch his ear and turn round to stare at me contemptuously.
“But before the vote,” he added, “before you say the word and we move upwards into broad, sunlit pastures, I understand we have a Jurisfiction agent who wants to offer a counterpoint to my statement. This is her right. It is your right to ask for proof if you wish—and I most strongly request that you do so. Ladies and gentlemen—things—Miss Thursday Next!”
I murmured into my mobilefootnoterphone, “Go, Mimi, go!”2
Everyone in the Starlight Room reacted slightly to the distant explosion.
Tweed steadied himself and spun round to glare at me. “What was that?”
I patted him patronizingly on the shoulder. “It’s called leveling the playing field, Harris.”
33.
UltraWord™
Storycode Engine: The name given to the imaginotransference machines used by Text Grand Central to throughput the books in the Great Library to the readers