Possible Scenario 'C'edited 09jan08: 09:40pm cavern time
- 01 StBd Shemansky BkStore -2.png (272.7 KiB) Viewed 5680 times
Shemansky looked up from his stack of letters to absently contemplate the graduate student staring through the small panes of his front window. He did not have to wonder about her being an architecture student because they were the only ones who bothered to personally find his book store.
She was tall. All the young ladies were so tall these days. It reminded not so much of his own short stature, as of a time when all Europeans were no taller than himself. She had Northern European blood in her, not Mediterranean. Wearing those puffy pants lined with flannel that New Englanders wear in the snow, it was clear that she was not all that concerned with mere appearances. He liked that. And she was wearing those funky looking Bean's ankle high rubber lace up moccasins. But why not? Here, they are the uniform. Enough musing. He had to finish these letters so he left the front to go to the upstairs computer.
Being a student of architecture, she did not mind the two hours she had spent in Shemansky's shop searching for the Beaux-Arts bible, Julian Guadet's, Elements... These old book stores were such mysterious places; besides, no one would want to go back out into that awful Nor'easter outside. And Shemansky did not keep his shop at 80 degrees like so many Bostonian shopkeepers do. She was thinking that it must be better storage for his books to be in a cooler climate; then too, it saved a bit of fuel cost.
Sipping the book store's coffee, she focused upon the small panes of the window. Must be actual 18thC fenestration, judging by the jointure of the muntins around the small wavy panes. It seemed more comforting to be looking out upon wicked squalls behind this window than being exposed through the ubiquitous plate glass.
Ah well, she sighed. Couldn't spend all day here, no matter the weather. Bending over to retrieve her heavy coat and muffler, she noticed they had been tossed over a crate of new books which Shemansky had not gotten around to cataloging. The lid was loose.
Cradling her foul weather gear over one arm, she laid aside the lid with her free hand and looked at the large folio sized book beneath the oil paper wrappers. The title was in Greek , maybe Cyrillic – the difference was unimportant to her because she read neither language.
She pushed aside the oil paper sheets to lift the cover of the top volume and – wow! In the center of those large folio pages was a neat hole let in, about six by nine inches, containing another book. She looked up to ask Shemansky about this curiosity, but he was upstairs.
The young architect pried the encased book out of its nest with her free hand and opened it atop her coat – the opening fell naturally to a thickened part in the middle. It appeared to be a hologram picture of some oriental city. And then she became seriously startled. Without realizing it she had touched the hologram and it began to move. Watching in total disbelief as the picture swirled around, she grew dizzy and nauseous before blackness enveloped her.
........
She could not have known that it had been this very same experience for previous explorers, century after century.
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see next: [B1] MOTHERCITY