The Waldos all showed up in a bunch, with plastic brown liter bottles filled with murky homemade beer and a giant bag of skunk-weed. The party had only been on for a couple hours, but it had already balkanized into inward-facing groups: merchants, kids, hackers. Kurt kept turning the music way up (“If they’re not going to talk with one another, they might as well dance.” “Kurt, those people are old. Old people don’t dance to music like this.” “Shut up, Lyman.” “Make me.”), and Andy kept turning it down.The bookstore people drifted in, then stopped and moved vaguely toward the middle of the floor, there to found their own breakaway conversational republic. Lyman startled. “Sara?” he said and one of the anarchists looked up sharply.“Lyman?” She had two short ponytails and a round face that made her look teenage young, but on closer inspection she was more Lyman’s age, mid-thirties. She laughed and crossed the gap to their little republic and threw her arms around Lyman’s neck. “Crispy Christ, what areyoudoing here?”“I work with these guys!” He turned to Arnold and Kurt. “This is my cousin Sara,” he said. “These are Albert and Kurt. I’m helping them out.”“Hi, Sara,” Kurt said.“Hey, Kurt,” she said looking away. It was clear even to Alan that they knew each other already. The other bookstore people were looking on with suspicion, drinking their beer out of refillable coffee-store thermos cups.“It’s great to meet you!” Alan said taking her hand in both of his and shaking it hard. “I’m really glad you folks came down.”She looked askance at him, but Lyman interposed himself. “Now, Sara, these guys really, really wanted to talk something over with you all, but they’ve been having a hard time getting a hearing.”Kurt and Alan traded uneasy glances. They’d carefully planned out a subtle easeway into this conversation, but Lyman was running with it.“You didn’t know that I was involved, huh?”“Surprised the hell outta me,” Lyman said. “Will you hear them out?”She looked back at her collective. “What the hell. Yeah, I’ll talk ’em into it.”
The Waldos all showed up in a bunch, with plastic brown liter bottles filled with murky homemade beer and a giant bag of skunk-weed. The party had only been on for a couple hours, but it had already balkanized into inward-facing groups: merchants, kids, hackers. Kurt kept turning the music way up (“If they’re not going to talk with one another, they might as well dance.” “Kurt, those people are old. Old people don’t dance to music like this.” “Shut up, Lyman.” “Make me.”), and Andy kept turning it down.
The bookstore people drifted in, then stopped and moved vaguely toward the middle of the floor, there to found their own breakaway conversational republic. Lyman startled. “Sara?” he said and one of the anarchists looked up sharply.
“Lyman?” She had two short ponytails and a round face that made her look teenage young, but on closer inspection she was more Lyman’s age, mid-thirties. She laughed and crossed the gap to their little republic and threw her arms around Lyman’s neck. “Crispy Christ, what areyoudoing here?”
“I work with these guys!” He turned to Arnold and Kurt. “This is my cousin Sara,” he said. “These are Albert and Kurt. I’m helping them out.”
“Hi, Sara,” Kurt said.
“Hey, Kurt,” she said looking away. It was clear even to Alan that they knew each other already. The other bookstore people were looking on with suspicion, drinking their beer out of refillable coffee-store thermos cups.
“It’s great to meet you!” Alan said taking her hand in both of his and shaking it hard. “I’m really glad you folks came down.”
She looked askance at him, but Lyman interposed himself. “Now, Sara, these guys really, really wanted to talk something over with you all, but they’ve been having a hard time getting a hearing.”
Kurt and Alan traded uneasy glances. They’d carefully planned out a subtle easeway into this conversation, but Lyman was running with it.
“You didn’t know that I was involved, huh?”
“Surprised the hell outta me,” Lyman said. “Will you hear them out?”
She looked back at her collective. “What the hell. Yeah, I’ll talk ’em into it.”