Armed guards marched on the rooftop of the whitestone ring that surrounded the main road into the Municipal District. The street had long since been cleared, the trees removed, and the windows reinforced with rebar beams. With the way that traffic was funneled into the entrance, there wasn’t a single place one could stand without being the target of three or more snipers.
There was nowhere in the world more secure than Pandemonium’s central bank.
“I am still unsure what your goal is here,” Mastermind said. “What book will help to overcome our current impasse?”
Leah smiled below her scarf. “You’ll see.” It wasn’t everyday that she beat Mastermind to a solution and got to enjoy the smugness that came with it. I could get used to this.
“At least let us recover our fellow compatriots before proceeding.”
“I sent Runners to find them. We’ve wasted enough time as is.”
He rolled his eyes. “If you insist, mum.”
A fusion of Gothic arches and modern design rose above a giant enclosure inside, pristine white like the walls around, with millions of books lining the shelves between the main room and the many adjacent storage cells. Most areas were off limits, save the entrance, and had been cordoned off with a chain-link fence, capped with barbed wire. Guards patrolled the top of the aisles, reminding anyone that they were ready to execute those who attempted to steal a book. All patrons were channeled straight to the main desks, where they would try in vain to haggle their way out of getting robbed blind.
Leah ignored the normal fray and went straight for the intranet stations nearby. Few places in Pandemonium had working computer networks given the high electric cost, but the bank was the exception that proved the rule. If it wasn’t for the ability to search their inventory quickly, the city would collapse overnight.
The routine of finding the copy she needed was all too familiar, and so she quickly navigated the site.
“Hah! We’re in luck.” Leah scribbled down the ISBN number and title. Mastermind tried to catch a glimpse of what she’d been searching, but his efforts failed as she blocked him out. This self-satisfaction was just too much fun.
More than twenty minutes came and went as the pair waited in line. The usual discord of pleading, yelling, and crying grew and waned as each teller imposed the cost of exchange. There was nothing to prevent anyone from trading their book for another on the street, but because all books were different and they changed hands so frequently, it was nigh impossible to find the right one conventionally. That left most at the mercy of the central bank, which imposed exorbitant taxation to cover the exchange. ‘Funding Municipal projects’ was the cover story they fed to the masses, but Leah was convinced that they were just sadists.
It couldn’t be helped. What if someone finished a story and wanted the sequel? Only the bank was guaranteed to have it in stock. A new business opened, and the owner needed technical information? That was in the bank. A freshie looking to swap their fantasy novel for a romance? A Hunter in need of a wilderness guide? A collector trying to expand? Bank, bank, bank.
“Next!” Fran shouted.
Figures I get her. Someone kill me! Of all the dreads that could be faced in this world, there was none more objectionable than going toe-to-toe with Fran, the Head Librarian. Rumor had it that she’d hollowed in this very library after losing both her legs, then rebuilt her Rez soon after, all without ever leaving that chair. Wouldn’t have surprised Leah. If there was anyone with a perpetual log up their ass, it was that miserable cunt.
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Leah handed over the notation she had written and went into her backpack for the books she’d brought to trade. Exchange rates were based on word count, with the standard “Book” having one hundred thousand words, or the value equivalent of one hundred pics. Since books had many different sizes and shapes, different brackets were created to better organize the exchange. Leah had guesstimated the copy she needed would be in the “Huge” bracket for a city the size of Lakewood. Huges were the most steep.
Fran spent a moment typing into her work station as she made the calculation, her wrinkled face locked in a perpetual scowl. “Eight-hundred-and-twenty-five pics.”
Leah’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? More than eight Books for a single copy of a Huge!?”
“Huge and Rare,” she declared without remorse.
Leah wanted to puke. Leave it to her to miscalculate the added rarity surcharge. The thugs also tabulated copies they’d received to regulate how many went back into circulation, ranging from “Abundant” to “Exotic”. “Rare” was on the higher end.
Now her six measly Books weren’t near enough, even with the extra pics on hand. Leah snatched her note with clenched teeth. “I’ll be back.”
“Next!” Fran shouted.
Another hour passed before Leah could run back to the Lodge, comb her own bookshelves for something she was willing to part with, and return to Municipal. In the end, she was back to where she started, facing Fran yet again. How could fate be so cruel?
Leah handed over the note, the eight Books she needed, and the added twenty-five pics, with more of both in reserve. Fran went through the same routine, typing into her computer yet again.
Her face tightened an inch further. “Fifteen-hundred pics.”
“What!? You told me this was eight-twenty-five!”
“That was then. It’s Exotic now.”
Leah couldn’t believe it. This was the ultimate scam. The injustice of a century. “Fran, are you seriously trying to tell me that, in the span of an hour, someone else waltzed in here, traded for the exact same book – which, for the record, nobody in existence would care about, other than me – and now there’s a single copy left? Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”
Fran shrugged. “Could’ve happened last night for all I know. The system just updated. Oh well. The cost is the cost.”
“I only need it for five fucking minutes. There’s a single line in there that matters!”
“Don’t care. Trade or leave.”
Mastermind tugged at her leg. “Let’s just get more b–”
But Leah wasn’t having it. “So help me, Fran. One of these days, I’m going to drag you into the desert, slice you open from waist to neck, and feast on your entrails! I won’t let you drain either. You don’t get to be that fucking lucky! I’m going to transfuse blood and grey matter directly to your brain, a year’s worth for every pic you’ve ever made me waste, just to make sure you can’t get a moment of peace as I fuck you to death, over and over for fifteen-hundred-fucking-years!”
“So no deal?” the bitch asked, uncaring.
“Fuck you!”
She grinned. “Next!”
When Leah returned later, a box filled with books in her arms, and another on Mastermind’s shoulders behind, she was about ready to burn Pandemonium down and everyone in it. The increased line did little to placate her fury.
A Runner darted by, a delivery in arm. “Package for Leah!”
Great. What now? “That’s me.”
Leah presented her identification, filled out the contract form, and tossed the Runner some pics. There was a single long-range radio inside the parcel, with an attached note.
‘Stay in touch,’ it read. Signed by Mother.
I’ll deal with this later. Whatever bullshit machinations Mother had going on, there were more pressing concerns, the primary one being to get this one fucking book without purging everyone else here.
“Next!” Fran shouted.
Just one good hit, Leah fantasized. That’s all it would take, and we’d be free of her forever. She marched to the counter, threw the note in Fran’s face, and poured a box filled with books, mags, and pics onto the counter.
There was only the final appraisal of her own stock left. In their infinite malevolence, the bank imposed an exchange penalty for books they had in surplus, and though they offered better rates for rarer books, they seemed to always be overstocked whenever Leah traded in, and never when she traded out. It was funny how the house didn’t lose in that way, if “funny” had red skin and horns, anyway.
The exchange was made, and Leah brooded at the sight of two empty boxes. A guard made the long walk into the library proper. When the treasured prize finally came her way, it couldn’t have been soon enough. Leah stomped straight for the door.
Mastermind trailed behind. “I give up! What have you discovered? Where has our human ally gone?”
Leah chucked the White Pages address book at his chest.
“He went home, genius.”