It was a long autumn and a long winter and a long spring that year, unwiring the Market. Alan fell into the familiar rhythm of the work of a new venture, rising early, dossing late, always doing two or three things at once: setting up meetings, sweet-talking merchants, debugging his process on the fly.His first victory came from the Greek, who was no pushover. The man was over seventy, and had been pouring lethal coffee and cheap beer down the throats of Kensington’s hipsters for decades and had steadfastly refused every single crackpot scheme hatched by his customers.“Larry,” Andy said, “I have a proposal for you and you’re going to hate it.”“I hate it already,” the Greek said. His dapper little mustache twitched. It was not even seven a.m. yet, and the Greek was tinkering with the guts of his espresso delivery system, making it emit loud hisses and tossing out evil congealed masses of sin-black coffee grounds.“What if I told you it wouldn’t cost you anything?”“Maybe I’d hate it a little less.”“Here’s the pitch,” Alan said, taking a sip of the thick, steaming coffee the Greek handed to him in a minuscule cup. He shivered as the stuff coated his tongue. “Wow.”The Greek gave him half a smile, which was his version of roaring hilarity.“Here’s the pitch. Me and that punk kid, Kurt, we’re working on a community Internet project for the Market.”“Computers?” the Greek said.“Yup,” Alan said.“Pah,” the Greek said.Anders nodded. “I knew you were going to say that. But don’t think of this as a computer thing, okay? Think of this as a free speech thing. We’re putting in a system to allow people all over the Market—and someday, maybe, the whole city—to communicate for free, in private, without permission from anyone. They can send messages, they can get information about the world, they can have conversations. It’s like a library and a telephone and a café all at once.”Larry poured himself a coffee. “I hate when they come in here with computers. They sit forever at their tables, and they don’t talk to nobody, it’s like having a place full of statues or zombies.”“Well,sure,” Alan said. “If you’re all alone with a computer, you’re just going to fall down the rabbit hole. You’re in your own world and cut off from the rest of the world. But once you put those computers on the network, they become a way to talk to anyone else in the world. For free! You help us with this network—all we want from you is permission to stick up a box over your sign and patch it into your power, you won’t even know it’s there—and those customers won’t be antisocial, they’ll be socializing, over the network.”“You think that’s what they’ll do if I help them with the network?”He started to say,Absolutely, but bit it back, because Larry’s bullshit antennae were visibly twitching. “No, but some of them will. You’ll see them in here, talking, typing, typing, talking. That’s how it goes. The point is that we don’t know how people are going to use this network yet, but we know that it’s a social benefit.”“You want to use my electricity?”“Well, yeah.”“So it’s not free.”“Not entirely,” Alan said. “You got me there.”“Aha!” the Greek said.“Look, if that’s a deal breaker, I’ll personally come by every day and give you a dollar for the juice. Come on, Larry—the box we want to put in, it’s just a repeater to extend the range of the network. The network already reaches to here, but your box will help it go farther. You’ll be the first merchant in the Market to have one. I came to you first because you’ve been here the longest. The others look up to you. They’ll see it and say, ‘Larry has one, it must be all right.’”The Greek downed his coffee and smoothed his mustache. “You are a bullshit artist, huh? All right, you put your box in. If my electricity bills are too high, though, I take it down.”“That’s a deal,” Andy said. “How about I do it this morning, before you get busy? Won’t take more than a couple minutes.”The Greek’s was midway between his place and Kurt’s, and Kurt hardly stirred when he let himself in to get an access point from one of the chipped shelving units before going back to his place to get his ladder and Makita drill. It took him most of the morning to get it securely fastened over the sign, screws sunk deep enough into the old, spongy wood to survive the build up of ice and snow that would come with the winter. Then he had to wire it into the sign, which took longer than he thought it would, too, but then it was done, and the idiot lights started blinking on the box Kurt had assembled.“And what, exactly, are you doing up there, Al?” Kurt said, when he finally stumbled out of bed and down the road for his afternoon breakfast coffee.“Larry’s letting us put up an access point,” he said, wiping the pigeon shit off a wire preparatory to taping it down. He descended the ladder and wiped his hands off on his painter’s pants. “That’ll be ten bucks, please.”Kurt dug out a handful of coins and picked out enough loonies and toonies to make ten dollars, and handed it over. “You talked the Greek into it?” he hissed. “How?”“I kissed his ass without insulting his intelligence.”“Neat trick,” Kurt said, and they had a little partner-to-partner high-five. “I’d better login to that thing and get it onto the network, huh?”“Yeah,” Anders said. “I’m gonna order some lunch, lemme get you something.”
It was a long autumn and a long winter and a long spring that year, unwiring the Market. Alan fell into the familiar rhythm of the work of a new venture, rising early, dossing late, always doing two or three things at once: setting up meetings, sweet-talking merchants, debugging his process on the fly.
His first victory came from the Greek, who was no pushover. The man was over seventy, and had been pouring lethal coffee and cheap beer down the throats of Kensington’s hipsters for decades and had steadfastly refused every single crackpot scheme hatched by his customers.
“Larry,” Andy said, “I have a proposal for you and you’re going to hate it.”
“I hate it already,” the Greek said. His dapper little mustache twitched. It was not even seven a.m. yet, and the Greek was tinkering with the guts of his espresso delivery system, making it emit loud hisses and tossing out evil congealed masses of sin-black coffee grounds.
“What if I told you it wouldn’t cost you anything?”
“Maybe I’d hate it a little less.”
“Here’s the pitch,” Alan said, taking a sip of the thick, steaming coffee the Greek handed to him in a minuscule cup. He shivered as the stuff coated his tongue. “Wow.”
The Greek gave him half a smile, which was his version of roaring hilarity.
“Here’s the pitch. Me and that punk kid, Kurt, we’re working on a community Internet project for the Market.”
“Computers?” the Greek said.
“Yup,” Alan said.
“Pah,” the Greek said.
Anders nodded. “I knew you were going to say that. But don’t think of this as a computer thing, okay? Think of this as a free speech thing. We’re putting in a system to allow people all over the Market—and someday, maybe, the whole city—to communicate for free, in private, without permission from anyone. They can send messages, they can get information about the world, they can have conversations. It’s like a library and a telephone and a café all at once.”
Larry poured himself a coffee. “I hate when they come in here with computers. They sit forever at their tables, and they don’t talk to nobody, it’s like having a place full of statues or zombies.”
“Well,sure,” Alan said. “If you’re all alone with a computer, you’re just going to fall down the rabbit hole. You’re in your own world and cut off from the rest of the world. But once you put those computers on the network, they become a way to talk to anyone else in the world. For free! You help us with this network—all we want from you is permission to stick up a box over your sign and patch it into your power, you won’t even know it’s there—and those customers won’t be antisocial, they’ll be socializing, over the network.”
“You think that’s what they’ll do if I help them with the network?”
He started to say,Absolutely, but bit it back, because Larry’s bullshit antennae were visibly twitching. “No, but some of them will. You’ll see them in here, talking, typing, typing, talking. That’s how it goes. The point is that we don’t know how people are going to use this network yet, but we know that it’s a social benefit.”
“You want to use my electricity?”
“Well, yeah.”
“So it’s not free.”
“Not entirely,” Alan said. “You got me there.”
“Aha!” the Greek said.
“Look, if that’s a deal breaker, I’ll personally come by every day and give you a dollar for the juice. Come on, Larry—the box we want to put in, it’s just a repeater to extend the range of the network. The network already reaches to here, but your box will help it go farther. You’ll be the first merchant in the Market to have one. I came to you first because you’ve been here the longest. The others look up to you. They’ll see it and say, ‘Larry has one, it must be all right.’”
The Greek downed his coffee and smoothed his mustache. “You are a bullshit artist, huh? All right, you put your box in. If my electricity bills are too high, though, I take it down.”
“That’s a deal,” Andy said. “How about I do it this morning, before you get busy? Won’t take more than a couple minutes.”
The Greek’s was midway between his place and Kurt’s, and Kurt hardly stirred when he let himself in to get an access point from one of the chipped shelving units before going back to his place to get his ladder and Makita drill. It took him most of the morning to get it securely fastened over the sign, screws sunk deep enough into the old, spongy wood to survive the build up of ice and snow that would come with the winter. Then he had to wire it into the sign, which took longer than he thought it would, too, but then it was done, and the idiot lights started blinking on the box Kurt had assembled.
“And what, exactly, are you doing up there, Al?” Kurt said, when he finally stumbled out of bed and down the road for his afternoon breakfast coffee.
“Larry’s letting us put up an access point,” he said, wiping the pigeon shit off a wire preparatory to taping it down. He descended the ladder and wiped his hands off on his painter’s pants. “That’ll be ten bucks, please.”
Kurt dug out a handful of coins and picked out enough loonies and toonies to make ten dollars, and handed it over. “You talked the Greek into it?” he hissed. “How?”
“I kissed his ass without insulting his intelligence.”
“Neat trick,” Kurt said, and they had a little partner-to-partner high-five. “I’d better login to that thing and get it onto the network, huh?”
“Yeah,” Anders said. “I’m gonna order some lunch, lemme get you something.”