"I don't like to give out my name," the anarchist said. "Call me Waldo,
all right?"
"All right," Andy said smiling. "That's fine by me. So, can I ask why
you decided not to do it?"
"It doesn't fit with our priorities. We're here to make print materials
about the movement available to the public. They can get Internet access
somewhere else. Internet access is for people who can afford computers,
anyway."
"Good point," Art said. "That's a good point. I wonder if I could ask
you to reconsider, though? I'd love a chance to try to explain why this
should be important to you."
"I don't think so," Waldo said. "We're not really interested."
"I think you *would* be interested, if it were properly explained to
you."
Waldo picked up his paper and pointedly read it, breathing heavily.
"Thanks for your time," Avi said and left.
#
"That's *bullshit*," 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."
#
"Don't bother," Andy said. "Seriously, it's not worth it. We'll just
find somewhere else to locate the repeater. It's not worth all the
bullshit you're getting."
"Screw that. They told me that they'd take one. They're the only ones
*I* talked into it. My contribution to the effort. And they're fucking
*anarchists* -- they've *got* to be into this. It's totally irrational!"
He was almost crying.
"I don't want you to screw up your friendships, Kurt. They'll come
around on their own. You're turning yourself inside out over this, and
it's just not worth it. Come on, it's cool." He turned around his laptop
and showed the picture to Kurt. "Check it out, people with tails. An
entire gallery of them!" There were lots of pictures like that on the
net. None of people without belly buttons, though.
Kurt took a pull off his beer. "Disgusting," he said and clicked through
the gallery.