Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom by Cory Doctorow (book series for 12 year olds .txt) 📖
- Author: Cory Doctorow
Book online «Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom by Cory Doctorow (book series for 12 year olds .txt) 📖». Author Cory Doctorow
The profs brought University security out to help them regain their lecterns, only to be repelled by ad-hoc security guards in homemade uniforms. University security got the message—anyone could be replaced—and stayed away.
The profs picketed. They held classes out front attended by grade-conscious brown-nosers who worried that the ad-hocs’ classes wouldn’t count towards their degrees. Fools like me alternated between the outdoor and indoor classes, not learning much of anything.
No one did. The profs spent their course-times whoring for Whuffie, leading the seminars like encounter groups instead of lectures. The ad-hocs spent their time badmouthing the profs and tearing apart their coursework.
At the end of the semester, everyone got a credit and the University Senate disbanded the Sociology program in favor of a distance-ed offering from Concordia in Montreal. Forty years later, the fight was settled forever. Once you took backup-and-restore, the rest of the Bitchunry just followed, a value-system settling over you.
Those who didn’t take backup-and-restore may have objected, but, hey, they all died.
The Liberty Square ad-hocs marched shoulder to shoulder through the utilidors and, as a mass, took back the Haunted Mansion. Dan, Lil and I were up front, careful not to brush against one another as we walked quickly through the backstage door and started a bucket-brigade, passing out the materials that Debra’s people had stashed there, along a line that snaked back to the front porch of the Hall of Presidents, where they were unceremoniously dumped.
Once the main stash was vacated, we split up and roamed the ride, its service corridors and dioramas, the break-room and the secret passages, rounding up every scrap of Debra’s crap and passing it out the door.
In the attic scene, I ran into Kim and three of her giggly little friends, their eyes glinting in the dim light. The gaggle of transhuman kids made my guts clench, made me think of Zed and of Lil and of my unmediated brain, and I had a sudden urge to shred them verbally.
No.
No. That way lay madness and war. This was about taking back what was ours, not punishing the interlopers. “Kim, I think you should leave,” I said, quietly.
She snorted and gave me a dire look. “Who died and made you boss?” she said. Her friends thought it very brave, they made it clear with double-jointed hip-thrusts and glares.
“Kim, you can leave now or you can leave later. The longer you wait, the worse it will be for you and your Whuffie. You blew it, and you’re not a part of the Mansion anymore. Go home, go to Debra. Don’t stay here, and don’t come back. Ever.”
Ever. Be cast out of this thing that you love, that you obsess over, that you worked for. “Now,” I said, quiet, dangerous, barely in control.
They sauntered into the graveyard, hissing vitriol at me. Oh, they had lots of new material to post to the anti-me sites, messages that would get them Whuffie with people who thought I was the scum of the earth. A popular view, those days.
I got out of the Mansion and looked at the bucket-brigade, followed it to the front of the Hall. The Park had been open for an hour, and a herd of guests watched the proceedings in confusion. The Liberty Square ad-hocs passed their loads around in clear embarrassment, knowing that they were violating every principle they cared about.
As I watched, gaps appeared in the bucket-brigade as castmembers slipped away, faces burning scarlet with shame. At the Hall of Presidents, Debra presided over an orderly relocation of her things, a cheerful cadre of her castmembers quickly moving it all offstage. I didn’t have to look at my handheld to know what was happening to our Whuffie.
By evening, we were back on schedule. Suneep supervised the placement of his telepresence rigs and Lil went over every system in minute detail, bossing a crew of ad-hocs that trailed behind her, double- and triple-checking it all.
Suneep smiled at me when he caught sight of me, hand-scattering dust in the parlor.
“Congratulations, sir,” he said, and shook my hand. “It was masterfully done.”
“Thanks, Suneep. I’m not sure how masterful it was, but we got the job done, and that’s what counts.”
“Your partners, they’re happier than I’ve seen them since this whole business started. I know how they feel!”
My partners? Oh, yes, Dan and Lil. How happy were they, I wondered. Happy enough to get back together? My mood fell, even though a part of me said that Dan would never go back to her, not after all we’d been through together.
“I’m glad you’re glad. We couldn’t have done it without you, and it looks like we’ll be open for business in a week.”
“Oh, I should think so. Are you coming to the party tonight?”
Party? Probably something the Liberty Square ad-hocs were putting on. I would almost certainly be persona non grata. “I don’t think so,” I said, carefully. “I’ll probably work late here.”
He chided me for working too hard, but once he saw that I had no intention of being dragged to the party, he left off.
And that’s how I came to be in the Mansion at 2 a.m. the next morning, dozing in a backstage break room when I heard a commotion from the parlor. Festive voices, happy and loud, and I assumed it was Liberty Square ad-hocs coming back from their party.
I roused myself and entered the parlor.
Kim and her friends were there, pushing hand-trucks of Debra’s gear. I got ready to shout something horrible at them, and that’s when Debra came in. I moderated the shout to a snap, opened my mouth to speak, stopped.
Behind Debra were Lil’s parents, frozen these long years in their canopic jars in Kissimmee.
Lil’s parents went into their jars with little ceremony. I saw them just before they went in, when they stopped in at Lil’s and my place to kiss her goodbye and wish her well.
Tom and I stood awkwardly to the side while Lil and her mother held an achingly chipper and polite farewell.
“So,” I said to Tom. “Deadheading.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Yup. Took the backup this morning.”
Before coming to see their daughter, they’d taken their backups. When they woke, this event—everything following the backup—would never have happened for them.
God, they were bastards.
“When are you coming back?” I asked, keeping my castmember face on, carefully hiding away the disgust.
’We’ll be sampling monthly, just getting a digest dumped to us. When things look interesting enough, we’ll come on back.” He waggled a finger at me. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you and Lillian—you treat her right, you hear?”
“We’re sure going to miss you two around here,” I said.
He pishtoshed and said, “You won’t even notice we’re gone. This is your world now—we’re just getting out of the way for a while, letting you-all take a run at it. We wouldn’t be going down if we didn’t have faith in you two.”
Lil and her mom kissed one last time. Her mother was more affectionate than I’d ever seen her, even to the point of tearing up a little. Here in this moment of vanishing consciousness, she could be whomever she wanted, knowing that it wouldn’t matter the next time she awoke.
“Julius,” she said, taking my hands, squeezing them. “You’ve got some wonderful times ahead of you—between Lil and the Park, you’re going to have a tremendous experience, I just know it.” She was infinitely serene and compassionate, and I knew it didn’t count.
Still smiling, they got into their runabout and drove away to get the lethal injections, to become disembodied consciousnesses, to lose their last moments with their darling daughter.
They were not happy to be returned from the dead. Their new bodies were impossibly young, pubescent and hormonal and doleful and kitted out in the latest trendy styles. In the company of Kim and her pals, they made a solid mass of irate adolescence.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rita asked, shoving me hard in the chest. I stumbled back into my carefully scattered dust, raising a cloud.
Rita came after me, but Tom held her back. “Julius, go away. Your actions are totally indefensible. Keep your mouth shut and go away.”
I held up a hand, tried to wave away his words, opened my mouth to speak.
“Don’t say a word,” he said. “Leave. Now.”
“Don’t stay here and don’t come back. Ever,” Kim said, an evil look on her face.
“No,” I said. “No goddamn it no. You’re going to hear me out, and then I’m going to get Lil and her people and they’re going to back me up. That’s not negotiable.”
We stared at each other across the dim parlor. Debra made a twiddling motion and the lights came up full and harsh. The expertly crafted gloom went away and it was just a dusty room with a fake fireplace.
“Let him speak,” Debra said. Rita folded her arms and glared.
“I did some really awful things,” I said, keeping my head up, keeping my eyes on them. “I can’t excuse them, and I don’t ask you to forgive them. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’ve put our hearts and souls into this place, and it’s not right to take it from us. Can’t we have one constant corner of the world, one bit frozen in time for the people who love it that way? Why does your success mean our failure?
“Can’t you see that we’re carrying on your work? That we’re tending a legacy you left us?”
“Are you through?” Rita asked.
I nodded.
“This place is not a historical preserve, Julius, it’s a ride. If you don’t understand that, you’re in the wrong place. It’s not my goddamn fault that you decided that your stupidity was on my behalf, and it doesn’t make it any less stupid. All you’ve done is confirm my worst fears.”
Debra’s mask of impartiality slipped. “You stupid, deluded asshole,” she said, softly. “You totter around, pissing and moaning about your little murder, your little health problems—yes, I’ve heard—your little fixation on keeping things the way they are. You need some perspective, Julius. You need to get away from here: Disney World isn’t good for you and you’re sure as hell not any good for Disney World.”
It would have hurt less if I hadn’t come to the same conclusion myself, somewhere along the way.
I found the ad-hoc at a Fort Wilderness campsite, sitting around a fire and singing, necking, laughing. The victory party. I trudged into the circle and hunted for Lil.
She was sitting on a log, staring into the fire, a million miles away. Lord, she was beautiful when she fretted. I stood in front of her for a minute and she stared right through me until I tapped her shoulder. She gave an involuntary squeak and then smiled at herself.
“Lil,” I said, then stopped. Your parents are home, and they’ve joined the other side.
For the first time in an age, she looked at me softly, smiled even. She patted the log next to her. I sat down, felt the heat of the fire on my face, her body heat on my side. God, how did I screw this up?
Without warning, she put her arms around me and hugged me hard. I hugged her back, nose in her hair, woodsmoke smell and shampoo and sweat. “We did it,” she whispered fiercely. I held onto her. No, we didn’t.
“Lil,” I said again, and pulled away.
“What?” she said, her eyes shining. She was stoned, I saw that now.
“Your parents are back. They came to the Mansion.”
She was confused, shrinking, and I pressed on.
“They were with Debra.”
She reeled back as if I’d slapped her.
“I told them I’d bring the whole group back to talk it over.”
She hung her head and her shoulders shook, and I tentatively put an arm around
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