Rainbows End (18 page)

Tommie nodded, chuckling. “Yup. Yup. But it’s been ‘Professor Thomas Parker’ for a long time. You know I got my doctorate from MIT? Then I came back here and I taught for almost forty years. You’re looking at a Member of the Establishment.”

And seeing what time had done… for a moment Robert was silent.
I should be immune by now
. He looked out the window at the crowds, away from Parker. “So what’s going on, Tommie? You’re camped up here like some grand commander.”

Parker laughed and typed at his keyboard. From what Robert could see of the display, it was some ancient system, worse than his view-page — and nothing like what he could get from Epiphany. But there was enthusiasm in Tom Parker’s voice. “It’s this protest demonstration we set up. Against the Librareome Menace. We didn’t stop the shredding, but — jeez, look at that. I got your break-in on video.” Tommie’s display showed what looked like a telephoto image shot from north of campus. A tiny figure that might have been Robert Gu was entering the library’s freight area. “I don’t know how you got past security, Robert.”

“Management wonders that too,” said the young man who rescued Robert. He had sat down behind the front desk and brushed flakes of paper dandruff off of his hair and T-shirt. Suddenly the “Chad is Bad” slogan on his shirt made a lot of sense. He noticed Robert’s regard and gave him a little wave. “Hi, Professor Gu. I’m Carlos Rivera, library staff.” His T-shirt morphed to white, which at least made the little bits of paper less obvious.

“You’re part of this destruction?” He suddenly noticed the half page he had saved from the shredder. He laid it gently on the table There were words there; maybe he could figure out what they had been part of.

“No, no,” said Parker. “Carlos is helping us. In fact, all the librarians oppose the shredding — excepting the administrators. And seeing that you got past library security, I think we have allies even there. You’re a famous guy, Robert. And we can use the video you got.”

“But I — ” Robert started to say he didn’t have a camera. Then he thought of the clothes he was wearing. “Okay, but you’ll have to show me how to give it to you.”

 

“No problem — ” began Rivera.

“You’re using that Epiphany junk, aren’t you, Robert? Yeah, you’ll have to get some wearer to help you. Wearables are supposed to be such a convenience, but mainly they’re an excuse for other people to run your life. Me, I’ll stick with the proven solutions.” He patted his laptop. Through some fluke of memory, Robert recognized the model. Twenty-some years ago, this gadget had been at the cutting edge of power and miniaturization, barely eight inches by ten, with a brilliant, millimeters-thin screen and a fancy camera. Now… even to Robert it was a ponderous behemoth.
How can it even talk to the modern magic
?

Parker’s glance slid across to the librarian. “How did he make it into the building, Carlos?” Rivera said, “
Wó bù zhidào
.”
Tommie groaned. “You’re talking Chinese, Carlos.”
“Oops, sorry.” He glanced at Robert. “I was an army translator during the war,” he said, as if that

explained everything. “I don’t know how he got in, Professor Parker. I saw him walking down from Warschawski Hall. I was using the same viewpoints as our security does. But you notice that even after he got to the shredders, there was still no one to stop him.” He turned, looked expectantly into the stacks. “Maybe the dean has other people working on this.”

After a moment, an old man stepped out from behind the books. “You know I don’t, Carlos.” He walked to the window without looking at Robert.
Aha
, thought Robert,
so this is where Winnie’s disappeared to the last couple of weeks
. Blount stared down at the plaza for several seconds. Finally he said, “The singing has stopped. They know about Gu’s arrival, don’t they?”

“Yes, sir. Even though we haven’t published our own video, there’s plenty of journalists floating around. At least three popular sources have IDed him.” Outside, the crowd was cheering.

Robert tried the little shrug that Juan said would bring up local news. All he got was advertising. And Sharif was still silent.

After a moment, Blount walked back to the head of the table and sat down with a wheeze. He hadn’t looked directly at Robert; Winnie didn’t seem nearly as confident as in Chumlig’s class.
How long has it been since we last played our little political games
? Robert gave Blount a steady look. That should cause Epiphany to search on him. Also, in the old days, that look had always unnerved the guy.

“Okay,” Blount nodded at Tom Parker, “tell our protestors to start the windup. You know, the interviews and opinion pieces.”

 

“What about Mr. New Development here?” Tommie jerked a thumb in Robert’s direction.

Blount finally looked at Robert. And Epiphany began streaming information across his view:
Google BioSource: Winston C. Blount, MA English from UCSD 1971, PhD English Literature from UCLA 1973, Associate Professor of English at Stanford 1973-1980, Professor of Literature and later Dean of Arts and Letters at UCSD 1980-2012. [Biblio, Speeches, Favorite things]
…

“So, Winnie,” he said, “you still wheeling and dealing?” The other’s face paled, but his reply was evenly worded. “Call me Winston, or Dean Blount. If you please.” There was a time when he had gone by “Win.” It was Robert who had cured him of that. They stared at each other silently for another second. Finally, Blount said, “Do you have an explanation for how you got in the service entrance?”

 

Robert gave a little laugh. “I just walked in. I’m the most ignorant of all, Winston.” What had become of Zulfi Sharif?

Tommie Parker looked up from his laptop. “There is recent public information on Robert Gu. Robert’s been in deep Alzheimer’s for almost four years. He’s one of the late cures.” He glanced up at Robert. “Jeez, man, you almost died of old age before you got well. On the other hand, it looks like you’ve had great medical luck otherwise. So what brought you to UCSD on this of all days?”

Robert shrugged. It was surprising how much he did
not
want to go into his problems with Bob and Miri. “The timing is just coincidence. I came down to UCSD because… because I wanted to see the books.”

A not-so-friendly smile came to Blount’s face. “How very like you, that you come the day we start burning them.”
Rivera protested, “It’s shredding, Dean. I mean, technically speaking. Except for the chad, all the shredda is preserved.”

Robert looked at the torn paper he had brought from downstairs: shredda that had escaped its final resting place? He held up the forlorn slip of paper. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on. What was this? What madness explains destroying the book this was part of?”

Winnie didn’t answer immediately; he waved at Rivera to pass him the fragment. He set it on the table and stared for a second. His bitter smile grew a little wider. “What pleasant irony. They’re starting in the PZ’s, aren’t they, Carlos?”

“
Duì
,” the young man replied, hesitantly.

“This,” Winnie waved the paper in the air, “is from a science-fiction book!” A grim chuckle. “Those sci-fi bastards are just getting what they deserve. For thirty years they had literature education hijacked — and this is what all their reductionism has gotten them. Good riddance.” He crumpled the paper and tossed it back at Robert.

Tommie grabbed the little ball of paper and tried to resuscitate it. “It’s just an accident that science fiction came first, Dean.”

 

“Actually,” said Rivera, “there are rumors the shredders started with science fiction because there would be fewer complainers among the geeks.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Tommie. “They were scheduled to be well into other stuff by the end of today.” Winnie leaned forward. “What do you mean ‘
were
scheduled’?”

“You didn’t know?” Parker patted his laptop again; was he in love with the ancient device or what? “The shredding ran into a minor technical problem. They’ve shut down for the day.” He grinned. “The popular press says the ‘minor technical problem’ is the sudden appearance of Robert in the middle of their operation.”

Rivera hesitated, and light glinted in the depths of his thick eyeglasses. “Yes,” he said. So the crowd outside had something to celebrate after all. Winnie got up, looked out the window again, and sat down. “Very good, we’ve earned our first victory! Relay our congratulations to the troops, Tommie.”

Robert raised his hands, “Will somebody please explain this madness to me? There may be nothing burning, but this does seem like
Fahrenheit 451
. That’s another science-fiction story, Winston.”

Rivera waved vaguely. “Search on keyword Librareome, Professor Gu.”
Robert gestured and tapped.
How does Juan manage to do this without looking like an idiot
? “Here, use my laptop. You’ll never figure out how to drag news out of Epiphany.”

Winston Blount slapped the table. “He can do that on his own time, Tommie. We have serious work to do.”

“Okay, Dean. But Robert has changed things. We can use his reputation.”
Rivera nodded. “Yes. He’s won practically every literary prize there is.”

“Stuff it,” said Blount. “We already have five Nobelists on board. Compared to them, Gu is nothing special.” Blount’s glance flickered across Robert’s face. The putdown he directed at Robert was accompanied by a minute hesitation, probably too short for the others to notice.

The most important things about Winston Blount were not in his Google bio. Once upon a time, Winnie had thought himself a poet. But he wasn’t; he was merely articulate and the owner of a large ego. By the time they both arrived as junior faculty at Stanford, Robert had lost patience with the poseur. Besides, committee meetings would have been deadly dull if not for his hobby of needling Winnie Blount. The guy had been an unending source of amusement because he seemed to think he could outwit Robert. Semester after semester, their verbal duels became more pointed, Winnie’s failure more obvious. It hadn’t helped the other’s cause that Blount had no talent for what he wanted most, to create significant literature. Robert’s lighthearted campaign had been devastating. By the late 1970s, Poor Winnie was the laughingstock — quietly the laughingstock — of the department. All that was left of his claims to significance was his pomposity. He had departed Stanford, and Robert remembered feeling the satisfaction of having done the world a good deed when Blount found his proper place in the scheme of things, becoming an administrator…

But he was probably just as good a poet as the new Robert Gu.
I wonder if Winnie really knows that
?

Of course, Tommie Parker was oblivious of such undercurrents. He responded to Blount’s comment as though it were a neutral statement of fact. “
Someone
thinks he’s important, Dean. Someone who had the power to slip him past some fairly good commercial security.” He turned to Gu. “Think back, Robert. I know you’re new to the information scene — and Epiphany obscures an awful lot — but did you notice anything strange today? I mean, before you got to the library?”

“Well — ” He looked into the air above them. His web search was just beginning to show results, text and pics about the “Librareome Project: rescuing prehistory for the students of today.” That
was
certainly strange stuff. Otherwise… there were the floating lights that meant various things. He tried to remember Juan’s explanations.
Ah
. Sharif was back, a ruby icon that hovered just around the corner of the stacks. “I’ve had some help, a grad student named Zulfikar Sharif.”

“Were you in contact with him as you came down toward the library?”
“Yes. Sharif thought I could get in easier if I didn’t try to walk through the crowd at the main entrance.”

Rivera and Parker exchanged glances. “You didn’t see the security ribbons? They should have guided you to the south side of building.”

 

“Professor, I think you were hijacked.”

 

Parker nodded. “Don’t feel bad about it, Robert. That sort of thing happens a lot with wearables. We should track down this ‘Zulfikar Sharif character.”

 

Robert pointed to the ruby light. “I think he’s still here.”

 

The gesture must have been taken as a cue by his Epiphany — somehow making the light a public thing: Rivera looked in the direction he was pointing. “Yes! See that, Professor Parker?”

 

Tommie looked down at his laptop and massaged the touchpad. “Of course I see him. I’ll bet he’s been listening via Robert. What say we invite him out for a chat?”

 

Blount was squinting around, hopelessly. Evidently, he couldn’t see the ruby glow. Nevertheless he took the question as directed at him. “Yes. Do it.”

Robert tapped a release. A second passed. The ruby tinkerbell floated down to the edge of the table — and abruptly became a full-sized human being, dark-skinned, with earnest eyes. Sharif smiled apologetically, and shuffled through the edge of the table to “sit” on a chair on the other side. “Thank you so much for invoking me, Professor Gu. And yes,” nodding to the others, “I have been listening. Apologies for my various communication problems.”

“I call that taking advantage of a beginner’s ignorance,” said Parker. Blount nodded emphatically. “I would say so! I — ” He hesitated, seemed to think it over. “Ah, hell. What does it matter, Tommie? Everything we’re doing today is perfectly open.”

Tommie grinned. “True! But one thing I’ve learned is you
always
look a gift horse in the mouth. Sometimes they turn out to be the Trojan variety.” He looked at the image in his laptop. “So, Mr. Sharif, I don’t care if you’ve been eavesdropping or not. Just tell us what you’ve been doing with Robert Gu. Someone led him down to the service entrance and through all sorts of security.”

Sharif smiled hesitantly. “In all honesty, I was as surprised as you about that. Professor Gu and I were talking freely when he arrived on campus. He got rather quiet as we came down the slope from your Warschawski Hall. And then for no apparent reason, he turned left and we went around the north side of the library. The next thing I knew he was walking into the freight entrance — and I lost contact. I don’t know what more I can say. My own wearable security is of the highest order, of course. um.” He hestitated a moment and then changed topic. “Aren’t you taking this whole thing in the wrong way? I mean, the Librareome Project will open up all past literature to everyone — and faster than any other project could do it. What is wrong with that?”