Advanced Mythology (8 page)

“You can watch movies on it—the power-saver feature can run the hard drive flat out for more than twenty hours, and it can record from over-the-air signals. You can download books from the net. It’ll hold a library’s worth, including illustrations. It can store MP3 files, or play music recorded on mini-CD. It’s practically a whole personal entertainment system. Everything but the dance floor,” Jen Schick added.

“Do you want us to use that?” Janine Martinez asked, pausing from making notes. She put the end of her pen in her mouth, raised her eyebrows quizzically. The crew from Gadfly looked at each other, exchanging silent questions.

“Maybe,” Mann said, cheerfully. “Give us a name first, and we’ll go for the whole download.”

They seemed outwardly to be happy-go-lucky, casual people, but underneath they were watching and wary, steel-lined, not going to take anything they didn’t like. They hadn’t gotten to be a multi-million-dollar venture without being determined.

“So,” Mann asked, “what do you think?”

“I am in love,” said Doug Constance. “It’s so small, but it’s got everything. It’s amazing.”

“Other handhelds have these features,” Schick admitted, “but no one unit has them all incorporated into one. We do.”

Keith just stared raptly, watching them turn the little screen around to face the keyboard, flip up so the digital camera eye is pointing at one of them, the little screen out to the side to use as a viewfinder, back again to use as a palm-top surface.

“What about wireless Internet?”

“At present the Internet function is disabled, but it’s ready to go as a telephone and wireless browser,” Mann said. “I’m not letting it connect because I just don’t want anyone lurking on the web to scope out the configurations prematurely. This is a big deal for us.”

“Of course,” Dorothy said. “We’re all enormously impressed.”

“Touch the Internet icon, then write in any URL,” Lehmann said, pointing over Keith’s shoulder, as he took the device around the table, demonstrating it for each PDQ staffer in turn. “You’ll be able to web surf in full color with practically no lags. The important things about it are the long battery life and the thinness of the components. They’ll bend but not break.”

Fold, flip, turn. Keith saw his own eyes stare back at him from the little screen. They were wide with excitement. This was the most exciting techno-toy he had ever seen. He had to have one for his own.

“Factotum?” suggested Jason Allen.

“Oh, come on,” Doug Constance said. “Half the people out there will have no idea what that means.”

“Packhorse? Mule? Suitcase?” suggested Rollin Chisholm. “I’m throwing out ideas here—Office Entertainment System?”

“Nope,” said Mann, tersely.

“Smartpack?” Janine Martinez offered.

“No way.”

“Palm Pro?”

“Too close to the competitors,” Paul Meier said. “Fingertip?”

“Uh … nah.”

“Encyclo-PDA?”

“Y’know, every single agency in Chicago has come up with that one.”

“Really?” said Peggy Gilmore, narrowing her eyes. “I thought that one was pretty clever.”

“We really ought to try New York, too,” Lehmann said to Mann. Dorothy stiffened. Paul leaned over and put a hand over hers.

Lehmann noticed the gesture and seemed genuinely abashed. “Sorry. We think out loud too much. Corporate culture.” He pointed a finger at his head pistol style, and pulled the imaginary trigger. “You know, no people skills.”

“This thing doesn’t need a campaign behind it,” Paul said admiringly. “The thing writes its own ad copy. Just write down everything it can do.”

“Use the list as wallpaper,” said Doug excitedly. “Transparent, over a photo, maybe the user’s hand and a train window in the background. It’d make a good and sticky ad—one that keeps your eyes on it for a long time.”

“Yes,” Dorothy said, sketching the unit in Lehmann’s hands and filling in scribbles around it to indicate words. “Good.”

“HE for Home Entertainment?” suggested Chisholm. “HE’s the one you want to take everywhere with you? Turn HE on, and HE’ll turn you on?”

“No,” Paul said. “Male customers will think it sounds like they’re taking a guy on a date.”

“Okay, SHE? Single Home Entertainment? Women are less sensitive about hanging with other women.”

“PE?” added Parks. “Personal Entertainment?”

“No,” Mann said. “PE sounds like gym class. It’s still going to be the Gadfly Mark One no matter what handle you hang on it.”

The Gadfly guys seemed nonplussed by the babble going on around them. They couldn’t be impressed, having heard initial pitches from a dozen companies. They listened as the staff threw out idea after idea, saying “no,” or simply shaking their heads.

“Everyone will want one of these,” Constance said. “Can you think of one single person in the world who won’t want one? This will galvanize the industry. Gadfly could sell a million of these in the first week.”

“But it needs the right approach,” Paul Meier said.

“The right name,” said Mann.

Keith sat watching Ms. Schick manipulate the Gadfly unit while the others argued over his head. He wasn’t the only copywriter that Dorothy had brought in, but she trusted him. She wanted him to succeed for her. He was grateful for the chance. He didn’t want to let her down.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the device. The flat hinges allowed the PDA to be turned inside out and upside down, revealing more and more uses. An infinity of utility. He didn’t even notice Dorothy’s desperate eye, so intent was he on the device. It bent every which way, like someone folding a piece of paper.

“Origami,” he said, dreamily.

“How about the Pocket Secretary?” Chisholm proposed.

“Too much like an infomercial,” said Lehmann.

“The Office Box?” Constance offered.

“What?” Mann asked. “What did you say?”

The blond executive started. “The Office Box? I know it needs work.”

“No, him, the bug-eyed one,” he said, pointing at Keith. “What did you say, son?”

Keith grinned, embarrassed. “I said ‘origami.’ The Japanese art form. That’s what it reminds me of. They can take a piece of paper and fold it into anything you want. It just made me think of it, the way you can twist that around into so many different shapes. It can be about anything you want it to. Can’t it?”

The executives smiled slowly at one another.

“Dude,” said the president of Gadfly Technology, “you’re the man.”

***

Chapter 7

“… And they said right there and then that PDQ had the account,” Keith said. He sat perched on the arm of an old couch at one side of the barn workshop next to Holl’s worktable. He just couldn’t stop talking. The whole world had changed so much in a single day. “Mr. Mann kept repeating it over and over: ‘Origami.’ It just came out, but he really liked it. Ms. Schick called their office and cancelled all the other appointments. They want me to start full time on the project, effective yesterday. We’re all supposed to start thinking of how to make the campaign work. Dorothy was really happy.”

“And you, too, I should imagine,” Holl said, continuing to plane a board glass smooth. He ran his finger along the surface, and attacked an invisible rough patch with a cloth coated with jeweler’s rouge. A splinter of the wood grain lifted and snagged the cloth. “Pah.” With the most delicate touch, he sent a tendril of power into the wood, causing the grain to adhere together more strongly. He gently eased the splinter back into place. The board was a mite too well-seasoned for fine carving. Tiron had warned him that the storage area in the barn was too dry, but Holl had disagreed. He’d checked it himself not a week before. It had been all right then. At least, he thought it had been. If this piece was a representative sample the room
was
too dry. From then forward he’d better check more closely. The Folk couldn’t afford to lose all their quality hardwoods, not with winter order season nearly upon them. “It helps to speed along your dreams, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does,” Keith said, slinging himself backwards into the depth of the couch. All around them, the Little Folk were working on wooden boxes, lanterns, jewelry, and ornamental pieces, raising their heads to listen occasionally to Keith. “You’re going to be amazed—PDQ is offering me $200 a
day
as a freelancer.”

“Very generous.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said happily, watching Holl’s hands. “You can’t believe how amazing this Mark One is. It has every single thing you can think of. It’s set up for interactive games on the wireless web. It could be used as a smart card. Pay your bills. Buy movie tickets. Invest in stocks. All from a handheld computer that I could put in my pocket. It’s got a mini-DVD. That’s going to be the hard sell. Since people are already investing in full-sized DVDs they probably wouldn’t want to buy all their movies in the miniature format, but for the road warrior, you know, the traveling executive …”

“Ugh!” Dola exclaimed, throwing up her hands. She sprang up from the couch. “I have heard all this nonstop all the way from Chicago. At least spare the repetition until I have gone again.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Keith said, tweaking a lock of her hair. “I know I bent your ear about it, but I’m in gadget-lust. I want one of these things, Holl. I don’t care what it costs.” He dropped into a reverie, seeing one of the shapely units in his own hands. “It’s a full personal computer that receives television, radio, and shortwave signals along with digital/analog telephone. And a pager. You can web surf for hours and listen to, say, the BBC World Service at the same time. It’s designed so well that the transmission signals don’t interfere with one another. The TV doesn’t get lines across it from the shortwave radio band. It can handle wireless fax. It’s got DVD, infrared, serial, and parallel connectors and a USB port. It’s set up for GPS, walkie-talkie, still
and
motion picture camera, voice recorder, video games with stub or touchpad joystick; it’s got e-book capability, and it can carry up to 20 amenity cards—like grocery store and department store passes—in a password-accessible database. Practically every electronic gadget there is, in miniature. They’re working on scanning capability, too. I think,” Keith said, dreamily. “I’ll call her Doris.”

Dola looked at Keith, met Holl’s eyes and shook her head.

“Haven’t you already got pride of ownership already?” Holl asked. “You’ve given it a name.”

“Origami is the brand name,” Keith corrected him. “If I owned something this wonderful, it would deserve a personal name. Even the power source is new. It can last practically forever between charges. I wonder if I can make up a slogan to relate to that?”

“And if this is such a marvel that a man can’t resist owning one the moment he sees it, why doesn’t everyone know about it?”

“Well, because it’s not on the market yet. The campaign won’t get under way for a couple of months. Nobody knows about it. That’s why we had to sign nondisclosure … oh.” Keith felt his cheeks burn. “I suppose I shouldn’t even be telling you.” For the first time he seemed aware that he was surrounded by dozens of people, all listening intently with hearing far better than his. Tay, nearby, tipped him a sly wink. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’ll get into incredible trouble. You ought to read the form they made me sign.”

Holl chuckled. “You can rely upon our discretion. But this must chafe at your open-hearted soul, not being able to talk. You can hardly restrain yourself now.”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I have to learn to keep my mouth shut. I must have babbled at Dola for more than three hours solid. Sorry, honey.”

“Well, it was better than the terrible music on the radio,” Dola said, graciously.

“Dola will have to go back in a couple of weeks or a month to film commercials,” Keith told Holl and Tay. “They only needed her for a day this time to photograph her with the new season’s shoes for the Fairy Footwear catalog. They’ll do anything to keep her. She’s a natural in front of the camera.” Dola preened.

“I am glad you’re enjoying your job, daughter,” Tay said. “I don’t see it lasting forever.”

“Nor do I,” Dola said, with a maturity beyond her years. “Big Folk have no attention span at all. Even while I speak to them they are thinking of a dozen other things. They will find another face to sell their product. In the meantime I like seeing the city.”

“It gives you a good connection to the outside world,” Holl said. “I prefer gentle interaction to the fearful avoidance we’ve become accustomed to practicing.”

“Take care, uncle,” Tay said with a wry smile. “You preach an ultra-Progressive lifestyle, and it will enrage the elders.”

Holl shook his head. “No matter what I say it will enrage them. They do not like Dola going among the Big Ones. They’re afraid one day she will not come back.” Keith felt ice in his belly as Holl said that. It had happened before, and turned the whole village upside down.

“Well, I’ll take Dola up and back whenever I’m around,” Keith said. “I’ll make sure she’s all right.”

“We appreciate that. Even the Conservatives acknowledge that you can be trusted—a main objection is with Dola allowing herself to be photographed in the first place.”

“You don’t know about advertisers,” Keith said cheerfully. “They have no idea that she’s the real thing. They assume she’s a kid who likes to play dress-up. Everything in their world is artificial.”

“Are you certain you can exist within that culture?” Holl asked. “You are the one who insists that things be real.”

“I’ll be fine,” Keith assured him. “I can always find a job in a different field if it goes sour, but for now I like advertising. It’s fun.”

“And what about school? The Master will expect you to attend classes and produce your homework on schedule no matter where you are—and no more last-minute transmissions, either. But what about your regular program?”

“I already called my advisor. I’ve got an appointment in the morning to talk about changing my program to Saturdays from full time,” Keith said. He took a sheaf of much-folded papers out of his pocket and flipped through them until he found what he wanted. “You see? This’d be much neater if I could keep all my lists on a PDA,” he said. “I could have it search my lists for keywords.”

Dola groaned and threw up her hands.

“… Here it is,” Keith said, finding the right note. “Ten thirty. I’ve checked the schedule, and I’ve got it all planned out. It may be a struggle to fit me into the classes, but they should understand about job offers that can’t wait. It might take me five years to earn my degree instead of two, but I can’t let an opportunity like this get away. It’s the fast escalator to a job with PDQ. Dorothy thinks my chances are great even if the client changes its mind. It’ll mean a lot of commuting, and a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it. I think it will be fun.”

Dola, becoming bored with adult talk, stood up from the couch.

“Thank you, Keith Doyle, for taking care of me and driving me up and back and taking me to the shopping center.” She gave him a sly smile, a conspiracy between friends. She pitched her voice louder. “I am sure everyone will like their presents.” At the word “presents,” heads began to perk up all over the workroom. She dragged her duffel bag from where she had dropped it near the door to the center of the room. Her father watched over her shoulder as she zipped it open.

“What have you done, daughter?” Tay asked indulgently as the girl ostentatiously removed package after package from the suitcase. “Bought out the whole of the fabric store?”

“Fabrics?” asked Candlepat, abandoning the music box she was assembling. Even dour Catra left the bookkeeping on her desk to gather around the little girl, who handed out bundles right and left. The recipients cooed and exclaimed over the parcels, holding up the lengths of colorful cloth against themselves, bursting out with ideas about clothing and fashions. In the middle of the rainbow, Dola sat happily dealing out presents.

“Boy,” Keith said. “I could learn a lot about advertising from her. She’s a natural. Look at her grab their attention with one word.”

“Like advertisers, she plays upon their self-interest. She brought them presents.”

“What a memory she has, too,” Keith said. “She dragged me all over the place picking things out. She went out of there with a pack on her back with something for everyone, just like Santa Claus.”

“Ah, well, they’re her wages,” Holl said. “She knows some of it must go for the support of us all, but the rest is hers to enjoy as she wishes. And she enjoys sharing. She hasn’t a single selfish cell within her.”

“I have notions and buttons. I did not forget the elastic this time, Aunt Maura,” Dola said with authority, handing over a flat package. “It is white. I hope that is what you wanted.”

“Perfect, my darling,” Maura said, hefting Asrai to her other hip. Quick as lightning, the two-year-old reached past her mother’s hand for the paper-wrapped packet and unwrapped it. She looked at the stringy tape and tried to pull it off the card. It snapped back into shape. Asrai regarded it with a puzzled expression so funny Keith laughed. “Thank you so much. Is that the flannel for Asrai’s sleepers?”

“Yes,” Dola said. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. I can’t quite see it.” Maura twisted, trying to maneuver a very active baby on her hip and unwrap a package at the same time. Marcy came to the rescue.

“I’ll take her, Maura,” the dark-haired girl said, kneeling down. The baby leaped into her arms, cooing. She loved Marcy. All the children did. Asrai snuggled close to the much bigger human, chattering out a running commentary on the present-giving.

“Not long before Asrai’s running everywhere,” Holl said, watching with parental pride. “And she talks like a magpie, though I can’t understand nineteen out of every twenty words.”

“Maybe she’s speaking magpie,” Keith said. Marcy’s great with her. Holl saw her cradle the little one with an expression of hungry yearning.

“Aye, it wouldn’t surprise me about my little sprite.… I wonder how long she and Enoch will wait to have their own babes.” The Big student beside him nodded, knowing Holl wasn’t talking about Asrai.

Holl was sorry for Enoch, even as he rejoiced that his enigmatic brother-in-law had found the lifemate of his heart. The Big Ones did not live as long as his kind. Still, as Shakespeare put it so well, t’was better to have loved and lost.… Marcy was a good addition to the village, whatever protests her family and the Conservatives might put forward. She fit in
well with the personalities, some of whom were strident and difficult enough that even their relatives found them trying. She was biddable but not easily pushed when she chose to stand her ground, took instruction, had a scholarly mind and a sense of humor, though very gentle, and liked a good discussion. It was sad that her family wasn’t taking her romance seriously. He couldn’t have borne that himself, though that was just the opposite of his own life, where everything he did was taken too seriously indeed. But he’d always been taken a mite too seriously, perhaps. A more pompous soul would have taken advantage of that. Holl grinned. He’d been pompous enough with Keith Doyle, but the boy did invite it, acting as foolishly as a colt.

“I don’t think it’ll be too long,” Keith said, watching Marcy dandle the child, who was so small in proportion to her. “But I know her: not until they get married. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her folks yet, but I’ll have plenty of opportunities now that I’ll be up there most of the week. I’ll be in at PDQ full time, for now. I’ve arranged to move into the Crash Site with Pat and Dunn. Poor Pat thought he’d gotten rid of me, but at least I can take on part of the rent and lift the burden off Dunn and his venture capital.”

“That’s a very heavy schedule,” Maura said sympathetically. She came over to show Holl the fabric for baby clothes. “Are you sure you can do it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said, blithely. “I’ve got it all worked out. Dunn’s working on this voice-recognition software that ignores exterior noise. I’m testing it for him in my car—you know what kind of a rumble my engine makes. So far it’s terrific. I can do my homework while I drive. If I install it in your computer or Diane’s I can print out at either end of my trip. It’s perfect. No down time. Chicago on weekdays, college on weekends. See, everything’s under control.”

“And where will you live on these weekends?” Maura asked. “You are giving up your rooms here to pay for your share of the apartment.”

Holl had to laugh at the stricken look on Keith’s face. “You can stay here, widdy. We’ll find a bed for those long shanks of yours.”

“Thanks,” Keith said, wiping imaginary sweat off his face. “I thought for a moment I was going to have to ask Diane for the use of her couch. She’s not going to be happy with the situation anyhow.”