Kristeen woke up refreshed, and despite the strangeness of the meeting ahead of her, she calmly sipped her morning coffee and munched on toast. Standing before the mirror, she noted that she hadn't lost weight in the past few days, but fortunately, she hadn't gained any either. She had grown accustomed to the extra pounds she'd put on over the past few years. If not satisfied, she was at least accepting of her body. Out of habit, she ran her fingers through her hair, not that she could do much with the cascade of hair reaching her shoulders.

  “What motivates Daan? Why is he doing this? Attacking the Bhicoog is complete madness and futility. A clever narcissist? Is that all there is to it? Or is there something to be learned and taught from this?” She smiled to herself. With these questions, it was as if she had returned to her roots. And the excitement of potentially getting answers pushed the emotional rollercoaster of the past few weeks into the background.

  She was glad Daan was sending a private carrier, and she wouldn’t have to use public transportation. Lately, rumours had resurfaced that some carriers simply disappeared, removing themselves from service. In worse cases, they would take their passengers captive. The authorities didn't publicize it, but some people had dug it out of the official reports. Besides, a private carrier gave one a certain status. Let the neighbours be envious for a little longer!

  “Time to go, the carrier has just turned the corner,” her assistant warned.

  There was nothing luxurious about Daan's carrier. Perhaps it was a bit cleaner than average, and the soft autumn sun shone pleasantly through the sunroof.

  “How long will the journey be?” Kristeen asked the machine.

  “One and a half hours. Would you like anything to eat until then?”

  As they spoke, the capsule trembled and set off. Its movement was imperceptible, neither heard nor felt. The synchronized movement and suspension of its legs were perfect. “Yes! This was worth it,” Kristeen felt increasingly better. Public carriers often swayed and gasped for air.

  “I’ve just eaten, thank you, perhaps later. Could you tell me something about Daan?”

  “I can only tell you what Judy could have already told you, should I repeat it?”

  Kristeen leaned back sadly. Of course, she knew that assistant intelligences communicated in the background, but she wasn’t always happy about it. “I hope she didn’t mention the ‘pompous jerk,’” She cleared her throat awkwardly.

  “Judy?” she asked her assistant.

  “I only mentioned your specific questions and my answers to them, not the pompous jerk,” she heard Judy’s reassuring voice through the comms built into her clothing.

  “Alright. Carrier, do you know why Daan called me?”

  “He saw you in an interview and thought you could help him. New-Humanity is committed to books.”

  “So, it’s professional, that’s good. If it’s professional, then it’s a negotiation.” Kristeen looked into her bag. Fortunately, her beta-aspirant was there.

  “Alert me fifteen minutes before arrival!” she instructed the carrier, then took out her reader and searched the network for a summary of New-Humanity.

  The carrier glided on almost silently. The district where Kristeen lived slowly receded behind them. Kristeen occasionally looked out. She rarely had to leave. But, as she suspected, there wasn't much variety elsewhere either. The cities were designed so that the necessities of life were easily accessible everywhere. Residential buildings organized around schools, services and entertainment centres were small self-contained cities within the city. But every district was built more or less the same way. The trees integrated at a cellular level into the walls of the houses were already bare everywhere. Fallen autumn leaves covered everything. The biomechanical legs of the carriers handled the unevenness of the roads well; traffic functioned excellently even in this disorder. Beauty was no longer represented by straight streets and squares, but by sustainability and defiance of the forces of nature. Of the torrential rains, the tornadoes, and the summer heat.

  By the time they left the denser city and glided past the detached houses of the wealthier, Kristeen was engrossed in her reading.

  “Fifteen more minutes,” she heard the carrier’s voice an hour later.

  Kristeen automatically took out the aspirant and chewed it thoroughly. She didn't like the cold metallic taste, but she knew she’d be better off taking one before negotiating. The aspirant shut down her emotional centre and made her as logical as possible. She hated it because it wasn’t her, but the results always showed up in her bank account.

  “Where are we?” she asked the carrier.

  A map of the city appeared on the table. The carrier marked Kristeen’s residence, Daan’s, and the carrier’s current location. Daan lived east of the city, on the hill.

  “Quite swanky!” Kristeen clicked her tongue, but immediately felt it was an exaggeration. The aspirant was beginning to take effect; she knew that for the next four hours, she would be as rational as a calculator.

  However, this way she could better summarize what she had just read about New-Humanity. Their main argument was that the society created by Bhicoog was overly balanced. Their reasoning was that humanity would develop more slowly this way, if it didn't degenerate in comfort. Therefore, a controlled but dynamic balance was needed, where extremes would be greater, but selection would also accelerate. One tool for this was the concealment of the Knowledge Stamp, which was otherwise mostly considered a hotbed of lies. They would have placed much greater emphasis on individual interest and knowledge than the system currently allowed.

  When she got out of the carrier, a simple robot was waiting. Its grown winter fur was thick and shiny.

  “Good day, Kristeen! I hope you had a pleasant journey. Daan is waiting for you, please follow me.”

  “Coming, coming. I figured I wasn’t important enough for him to come out personally, but it would have been nice.”

  “Don’t take it personally, he usually sends me. In the past five years, he’s only come out to greet arrivals once, and those were ambulances,” the escort replied.

  Kristeen’s interest was piqued. “Must have been quite a party!”

  “I am not authorized to provide further information on that topic. I apologize. But we’ve arrived, Daan is waiting at the end of the path to your right,” the robot said, bidding farewell.

  The path led into a garden, with the silhouette of the city visible in the distance. The garden was magnificent, even now, at the end of autumn. Kristeen, like everyone else, had everything she needed. She didn't live in great luxury, but she got everything she desired. This closeness to nature, this autumnal riot of colours, this air, the silence—it was incomprehensible. “So, this is true wealth!”

  Daan was reading and taking notes in an arbour heavy with grape clusters. He was reading a paper book and writing on paper with a pen. Kristeen was overcome with envy, but only for a moment. The aspirant wouldn't let it linger. “Paper… what did he have to do for this?”

  She was still quite far away when Daan noticed her. He immediately stood up and hurried to greet her. Compared to pictures, he looked older, but somehow taller than she expected. “Others would have corrected these skin imperfections by now,” Kristeen thought, and it made her host seem a little more sympathetic.

  “Good day! I’m glad you could come!” Daan greeted her.

  “The pleasure is mine. This place is beautiful!” Kristeen extended her hand. His handshake was firm, but not too strong. “He doesn’t want to dominate; he sees me as a partner. Good sign, or a good actor. Someone this rich is obviously a good actor. Be alert! It’s not good to be this conscious,” Kristeen thought.

  “Thank you! You must be very busy these days! What you’ve given these children is truly fantastic!”

  “Teaching them self-expression, creation, the use of words, thinking. The most beautiful task. You can be proud and happy!”

  Kristeen would have been completely moved if she hadn't been under the influence of the aspirant.

  “I really love it, I’ve actually been doing it for many years, but I still get a lot of joy from it. Although it’s very difficult to drag this age group away from games, from the precisely dosed endorphin rushes, and to impart the joy of creation and discovery, which comes with effort and failure.”

  “And even then, I often hear back the answers from the Knowledge Network; mediocrity has covered everything. Seriously, sometimes even below average is a relief.”

  “I never would have thought we’d think so similarly!” Daan’s enthusiasm seemed genuine.

  “Can I offer you something?”

  Kristeen pondered. “This could be a trap. He gives me an inhibitor, and I agree to something for free.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Unfortunately, from the invitation, I couldn't tell if I was coming for a business meeting or a friendly chat.”

  “The point, of course, is the point. How about this: it would be a friendly chat, and if all goes well, then a business visit at the end?”

  “You only have three hours left, then the deal won’t be good. Trap!”

  “I’ll feel awkward until I know what this is about.”

  “In the interviews, you were a bit—how shall I put it—more relaxed. But I suspect what the problem is. The negotiation, right? You’ve taken a beta-aspirant.”

  Kristeen nodded. She had never been found out before. True, she had never before conversed with an A+BBA person.

  “I understand. I would have done the same. Let’s do this: I’ll write down a daily rate here right now, and if I want to offer you work after our conversation, that will be the fee. If that suits you, then the job is yours; if not, then we’ve had a good chat.”

  “Emotions, emotions again. If he offers a job I like, I’ll take it anyway.”

  “Can I have a piece of paper too?” Kristeen asked.

  “Of course.” Daan handed over the pad of paper as naturally as if he did it every day. Even with the aspirant, Kristeen was embarrassed. She ran her hand over the paper; it was smooth and white, slightly rough. In another situation, she surely would have smelled it. She took the pen and wrote down a number herself, then folded it and put it away.

  “If your number is higher than mine, I’ll take it. If my number is higher, you can decide whether to accept it or not. And yes. I’ll have some fruit. Perhaps a light lunch.”

  “Will you take the inhibitor?”

  “Of course!” Kristeen agreed, chewing the inhibitor.

  “Ted, could we have some fruit and something light for the mill?”

  “Understood,” a voice came from somewhere.

  “Let’s take a walk, just ten minutes! I can think better on the move,” Daan said, but he didn’t wait for a reply, setting off purposefully on a path among the trees.

  “This place is a bit like an old estate from before the Age of Inventory. Huge. It isolates and protects. I love nature, I love being here. The lease costs a fortune, and keeping it green and fertilized costs another, but it’s worth it.”

  “The mill we’re walking to, of course, isn’t really a mill, but you’ll see. But now tell me a little about yourself; you said many interesting things in the interview. Can you really trace your family tree back to the 1800s?”

  It was a lush garden, beautiful even at the end of autumn. “How much water does he spray every day? My annual salary is one watering. I should have written a bigger number on the paper.”

  “Our family is neither too large nor too noble. It’s simply well-documented. We’ve lived here for a long time. We’re sort of natives. That’s quite rare after the Great Migration. In fact, over the elapsed time, we could have networked the world.”

  “Roughly four hundred years, roughly sixteen generations. Well, I don’t think I could tell you exactly how many people that means. But it’s certainly many more than the five people I know about.”

  “The roots are interesting mostly because we still had books at home. Not just digital ones, but old, real, paper-based ones too. We inherited them, from here and there. But then when my younger brother was born, we didn’t have enough space, and we gave them to the Church. Of course, they remained digitally.”

  They walked slowly. Daan apparently paid attention to her.

  “If we assume two offspring per generation, which is a good approximation, then it’s 216. Obviously a lot of previous generations have died, but for the sake of the game, let’s just say the last two generations are still alive: 216+215.”

  “Ted?” Kristeen didn’t hear the answer, just a mumble from Daan’s clothing.

  “Nearly 100,000. It would be hard to keep track of birthdays.”

  “You also come from an old family?”

  “Noooo. Both my father’s and mother’s families appeared almost out of nowhere. They have no traceable past. They are among the few survivors of the Great Migration. My father had an incredible career, and so, I also started from a pretty good position.

  But even so, it took a lot of work to reach my current position at Mechanical Helper. It helped a lot that I had some good inventions. My greatest innovation was in the field of biological robots. Thanks to this, we can grow them like living organisms, and they are also capable of regeneration. This makes them much more durable than their predecessors.

  My eyes widened when I saw my fee; I’ve been spending that ever since. Now our robots are used by the AP in the outer asteroid belt and in the planet mines, but we also created your household robots,”

  Summarized Daan.

  “Surely, I never looked into it. But if you’re so smart, why didn’t you stay with the company? You surely would have had more good inventions. We need good scientists!”

  “I feel that there’s something wrong with the system. With Bhicoog and the AP. But Mechanical Helper isn’t working well either. I think there’s a problem. That’s why I founded New-Humanity. Anyway, I am working on innovations. But I’d like to ask more questions! I heard that you read almost everything. Novels, poems, technical descriptions. Is that really true?”

  “Oh, yes! Since childhood, I’ve loved the special terminology of various technical texts. They are very entertaining. Though instruction manuals and legal texts not so much, but technical ones, for example, yes.”

  “And you remember everything?”

  Kristeen burst out laughing honestly. “Of course not! Processes, cause-and-effect relationships, emotions, maybe, a little. But I’m very bad with names, for example.”

  “Excellent! What I invited you for is tied to reading, to books, in many ways. I mentioned earlier that I don’t particularly like the Knowledge Network and the artificial intelligence. I mean, the operating system that controls robots is useful, but this Knowledge Network that Bhicoog maintains… Well, I think it’s downright harmful. They label every statement as true or false. That should be people’s job, not machines’! But I don’t want to give a campaign speech now; suffice it to say, I believe that reading, books, and developing our memory are very important. This is part of being human. It’s good that people still read. It’s good that there are people who write down their thoughts. And that’s why I was very happy when I saw your successes.”

  As they walked, they reached the mill. There was an old, cool pine forest behind it; in front of it, a small stream powered the mill wheel.

  There were fruits, a simple cold platter, and some drinks on a table.

  “Bon appétit, and cheers!” Daan offered Kristeen, pouring from a bottle.

  “Thank you!”

  “Do I remember correctly that you said your family is so old-fashioned that you don’t even have an implant?”

  “I’m not that old. I have an old, passive marker too,” she poked towards her hand, where, like everyone else, a small scar and bump indicated the implant. “But this newer, active implant somehow eluded me. And now I don’t consider it necessary; voice control and other things work great anyway. I’ll stay as I am.”

  “Of course, of course, I thought so too, obviously everyone has the old one. I don’t know how interested you are, but I’d be happy to show you the inside of the mill. It’s quite modern, it cost a fortune, I’m very proud of it. Come.”

  The Daan Kristeen had read about on the way here was not like this. This Daan was kind, attentive, and clearly very proud. Kristeen followed him curiously. A small door opened in the old, leaning wall of the mill. When they stepped inside, it was as if they had entered another world. Beyond the door, two steps away, a railing blocked the way, behind it a shaft plunging into the depths. From the upper level of the mill, shiny copper pipes and cable bundles ran down into the depths. A faint hum filled the room.

  “This is our latest development, this is the prototype. Here, we don’t produce sugar with the energy of sunlight, like plants, but from the Earth’s heat. We extract carbon from the carbon dioxide in the air, and hydrogen from water, just like in photosynthesis. But the energy for the conversion comes from heat, so it works at night too. Until now, we haven’t been short of energy, but if this works, we will never be.”

  “Won’t the resulting oxygen be dangerous?”

  “Ah, yes. I somehow expected a question like that! You don’t just read; you also understand what’s around you.”

  Kristeen straightened up at the compliment.

  “Well, the process is not very concentrated at the moment, so the oxygen is also produced diffusely, and therefore it doesn’t cause any harm. But we hope that in the future, it can be collected and incorporated into other energy-producing processes.”

  Daan looked at the plant with visible pride, then turned back to Kristeen.

  “I’d like you to work for me. I bought a library. Thousands and thousands of books, but they haven’t been processed. I need someone to be there for the cataloguing.”

  Kristeen clutched the railing. Her knuckles turned white. “Well… what exactly do you want?”

  “Alright, I’ll tell you the details. In the library, the categorization is done by robots, but they need to be supervised. Roughly two weeks, maybe a day or two more. While supervising, you can read whatever and however much you want, and you can choose 10-15 books to take home with you. I’ll provide accommodation, equipment, and everything else. However, you cannot bring in any electronic devices. You’ll have to leave your assistant outside too.”

  Kristeen felt almost dizzy. “In an unknown library, completely alone. Like a dream come true.” She was speechless.

  “I guarantee you won’t regret it.”

  “That’s it?”

  “No. You’ll have to report daily on what you’ve read, what the library is like. I want everyone to long for books. Minimum 100-200 words. And at least every other day, a video check-in of 3-5 minutes.”

  Kristeen still didn't understand. She could write that much between two spoonfuls of soup. There was something else here. Surely there was something else here. He wouldn't need her for this. Robots could do this.

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re popular now, and that’s important to me. Books are important, and so you’ve become important too. You know, advertising isn’t what it used to be. You need a credible person. Someone whose enthusiasm breaks through walls. You are that kind of person.”

  Kristeen understood this now; she would be the face of the campaign.

  “Alright. So that’s it? A public diary and on-site reports?”

  Daan shook his head carefully. Then he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

  “There’s a list here. They might not be there, but if they are, you need to handle them separately. They need to be archived on a different device. You cannot write about these, nor can you say their titles aloud while you are connected to the Knowledge Network.”

  “When you’re done, you’ll bring them back personally.”

  Daan looked at Kristeen very seriously. When the woman nodded, he handed her the paper.

  Kristeen unfolded the list. There were six titles on it; five were unknown, but she had read one of them.

  “I’ve read this one!” she said. “If you want, I can tell you what it’s about now.”

  Daan became rigid as a statue. “No need. I’ve already told you what I want.”

  Kristeen swallowed, but this was still a pretty good offer.

  “Anything else?”

  “The library is in the zone. About 800 kilometres from here.”

  Of course. Judy even said he had just bought a library in the zone. But still! This hurt. This really hurt. Kristeen had never been outside the city before. The very thought of the cruel, wild world of the zone filled her with dread.

  “But…”

  “There are such collections like this only out there. I’m sorry. I’m glad I have found this, and that Bhicoog hasn’t snatched it from under my nose. They’ll be dismantling the building soon, as well as the city around it. And again, my robots are doing most of the work. But even they cannot see these books! And one more thing! There will be another person there; I have no secrets from him. You can talk to him about anything you want, even about these books, but only in the library. I trust him.”

  “Someone else?” Kristeen didn’t know whether to be happy about this news. It would have been good if she hadn't taken the inhibitor.

  “Brin Kovalszky, a close colleague of mine, a friend. He’ll be there if anything goes wrong.”

  The zone, trouble… This was sounding worse and worse. But the library, a real, fragrant old library…

  “There’s nothing else, is there?”

  Daan reached into his pocket and took out his paper. “I wrote a daily rate, I hope you did too.”

  Kristeen let go of the railing and took out her own paper. Daan had won, by four times Kristeen’s number.

  “One last thing, before you say anything. You need to leave within two or three days, because the demolition is very close. Can you prepare?”

  “We’ll see, I think I can do it…”

  “Then we have a deal?”

  “Then we do,” Kristeen extended her hand.

  “I think we’ve clarified everything. Let’s go out and see if there’s any snack left, or if the birds have eaten everything.”