“That’sbullshit,” Kurt said. “Christ, those people—”“I assumed that there was some kind of politics,” Austin said, “and I didn’t want to get into the middle of it. I know that if I could get a chance to present to the whole group, that I could win them over.”Kurt shook his head angrily. His shop was better organized now, with six access points ready to go and five stuck to the walls as a test bed for new versions of the software. A couple of geeky Korean kids were seated at the communal workbench, eating donuts and wrestling with drivers.“It’s all politics with them. Everything. You should hear them argue about whether it’s cool to feed meat to the store cat! Who was working behind the counter?”“He wouldn’t tell me his name. He told me to call him—”“Waldo.”“Yeah.”“Well, that could be any of about six of them, then. That’s what they tell the cops. They probably thought you were a narc or a fed or something.”“I see.”“It’s not total paranoia. They’ve been busted before—it’s always bullshit. I raised bail for a couple of them once.”Andrew realized that Kurt thought he was offended at being mistaken for a cop, but he got that. He was weird—visibly weird. Out of place wherever he was.“So they owe me. Let me talk to them some more.”“Thanks, Kurt. I appreciate it.”“Well, you’re doing all the heavy lifting these days. It’s the least I can do.”Alan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “None of this would exist without you, you know.” He waved his hand to take in the room, the Korean kids, the whole Market. “I saw a bunch of people at the Greek’s with laptops, showing them around to each other and drinking beers. In the park, with PDAs. I see people sitting on their porches, typing in the twilight. Crouched in doorways. Eating a bagel in the morning on a bench. People are finding it, and it’s thanks to you.”Kurt smiled a shy smile. “You’re just trying to cheer me up,” he said.“Course I am,” Andy said. “You deserve to be full of cheer.”
“That’sbullshit,” Kurt said. “Christ, those people—”
“I assumed that there was some kind of politics,” Austin said, “and I didn’t want to get into the middle of it. I know that if I could get a chance to present to the whole group, that I could win them over.”
Kurt shook his head angrily. His shop was better organized now, with six access points ready to go and five stuck to the walls as a test bed for new versions of the software. A couple of geeky Korean kids were seated at the communal workbench, eating donuts and wrestling with drivers.
“It’s all politics with them. Everything. You should hear them argue about whether it’s cool to feed meat to the store cat! Who was working behind the counter?”
“He wouldn’t tell me his name. He told me to call him—”
“Waldo.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that could be any of about six of them, then. That’s what they tell the cops. They probably thought you were a narc or a fed or something.”
“I see.”
“It’s not total paranoia. They’ve been busted before—it’s always bullshit. I raised bail for a couple of them once.”
Andrew realized that Kurt thought he was offended at being mistaken for a cop, but he got that. He was weird—visibly weird. Out of place wherever he was.
“So they owe me. Let me talk to them some more.”
“Thanks, Kurt. I appreciate it.”
“Well, you’re doing all the heavy lifting these days. It’s the least I can do.”
Alan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “None of this would exist without you, you know.” He waved his hand to take in the room, the Korean kids, the whole Market. “I saw a bunch of people at the Greek’s with laptops, showing them around to each other and drinking beers. In the park, with PDAs. I see people sitting on their porches, typing in the twilight. Crouched in doorways. Eating a bagel in the morning on a bench. People are finding it, and it’s thanks to you.”
Kurt smiled a shy smile. “You’re just trying to cheer me up,” he said.
“Course I am,” Andy said. “You deserve to be full of cheer.”