The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [436]
“Very well,” said Libris slowly, “the Bellman has called for a vote, and as the rules state, I am allowed to answer any criticism laid before me.”
“A rebuttal of a rebuttal?” I cried. “The rules don’t state that!”
“But they do!” said Libris kindly. “Perhaps you’d like to look at the BookWorld constitution?”
He pulled the slim volume from his coat and I could smell the cantaloupes from where I stood. It would say whatever they wanted it to say.
Libris walked over to us and said to the Bellman in a quiet voice, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. We make the rules, we can change the rules, we can modify the rules. We can do anything we want. You are due to step down. Go with me on this one and you can have an easy retirement. Go against me and I’ll crush you.”
Libris turned to me. “What do you care? No one in the Outland will notice the difference. You’ll have a week to pack up and move out—you have my word on that.”
The Bellman glared at Libris. “How much did they pay you?”
“They didn’t need to. Money doesn’t mean anything down here. No, it’s the technology that I really love. It’s too perfect to be sidelined by people like you. I get one hundred percent control. Everything will go through TGC. No more Well of Lost Plots, no more Generics, no more Council, no more strikes by disgruntled nursery rhyme workers. But do you know the best bit? No more authors. No more missed deadlines. No more variable-quality second books—each one in the series will be the same as the last. When a publisher needs a bestseller, all they need do is contact our sole representative in the Outland!”
“Yorrick Kaine,” I murmured.
“Indeed. It’s all for the best, my dear.”
Incredibly, it was worse than I thought. It was as if the paint factories had decided to deal direct with the art galleries.
“But the books!” I cried. “They’ll be terrible!”
“Within a few years no one will notice,” replied Libris. “Mr. Bellman, do you go with us on this or not?”
“I would sooner die!” he exclaimed, trembling with rage.
“As you wish,” replied Libris.
There was a short crackling noise and I saw the Bellman stiffen slightly.
“Now,” said Libris, “let’s finish this all up. Bellman, would you refute Miss Next’s points one by one?”
“I should be delighted,” he said slowly and without emotion. I turned to him in shock and could see how his features were less defined than before—sort of like a wire-framed, three-dimensional model clothed in realistic skintone. I could see it easily but I was up close—the audience hadn’t noticed anything at all. The smell of melons once more drifted across the stage.
“Friends!” began the Bellman. “Miss Next is entirely mistaken . . .”
I turned to Libris and he smiled triumphantly. I reached into my bag for my gun, but it had been changed to marmalade.
“Tch, tch,” said Libris in a whisper, “that’s a BookWorld gun and under our control. What a shame you lost your Outlander Browning in the struggle with Tweed!”
I had only one card left. I pulled out my TravelBook and opened it, flicking past the TextMarker and Eject-O-Hat and on towards the glass panel covering a red-painted handle. A note painted on the glass read, IN UNPRECEDENTED EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS. If this wasn’t an unprecedented emergency, I didn’t know what was. I smashed the glass, grabbed the handle and pulled it down with all my strength.
34.
Loose Ends
Contrary to Text Grand Central’s claims, there were no new plots using UltraWordTM. Ex-WordMaster Libris had become so obsessed with the perfection of his Operating System that nothing else had mattered to him and he lied repeatedly to cover up its failings. BOOK V8.3 remained the Operating System for many years to come, although one of the UltraWord TM copies of The Little Prince can be viewed in the Jurisfiction museum. To avoid a repeat of this near disaster, the Council of Genres took the only course of action open to them to ensure TGC would be too inefficient and unimaginative to pose a threat. They