The Live-Forever Machine Read Online Free Page A

afternoon,” said Eric. “Must be the heatwave.”
    “For most people,” a dignified off-screen voice said, “shopping is not simply a pleasure, but a way of life. Here, in the heart of downtown, next door to the museum, a new shopping experience is about to be forged. More than four hundred new shops under one magnificent roof for the discriminating consumer. It’s the mall of the future, for the way of the future, designed as a series of figure-eight patterns to encourage maximum shopper participation. Three kilometres of enclosed floor space, much of it totally underground, will take you effortlessly through an incomparable collection of the finest boutiques and eateries inthe world. You’ll be dazzled by neon, soothed by the sounds of our in-house music. It’s all there for you, waiting. Elegance, simplicity, complicity. The new mall. Opening this fall.”
    “Complicity, for sure,” growled Eric’s father, shaking his head in disgust.
    “Just another mall,” Eric said with a shrug. “Chris told me this was one of his Mom’s deals.”
    A news reporter appeared, standing across the street from a building that was spewing out smoke and flames. Eric recognized it as the rare-book library. He walked past it practically every day.
    “The fire,” the reporter shouted, “started early this morning at the corner of Main and Kierkegaard, and spread quickly out of control through the entire library. Firefighters have been working to stop the blaze, but many of the water hydrants in the immediate area have run dry. Filled with so much paper, this building is like a giant tinderbox. Just look at those books burn! This is the second fire in the downtown area within a week. Only three days ago, a well-known antiques dealership was the scene of a similar blaze, which destroyed most of the shop’s merchandise and did millions of dollars of damage.”
    The reporter paused to watch as part of the library’s wall collapsed outwards onto the street.
    “At the scene,” he said, turning to face the camera, “I’m Stuart Daw for Split Second News.”
    “Thanks, Stuart,” said the studio anchor. “Just an incredible fire. And who needs it in this heat? Next, the latest in wrestling. Bob?”
    “Well, Dirk, it was a good, good day for the Beast—”
    It took Eric three tries to switch off the TV . When he turned around, he was startled by the pallor of his father’s face.
    “It’s a terrible thing,” his father was saying. “One of the finest libraries in the world.”
    Eric watched his father.
    “Floors and floors of books rising up all around you. They don’t let you just browse, of course. You have to ask one of the librarians to get a particular book for you—and then you look at them under glass most of the time. But sometimes, you get to hold one. You can touch it, feel the old leather binding and the brittle pages, smell the old paper.” A small smile fluttered across his mouth. “Once your mother—” He stopped suddenly and looked back down at the typewriter.
    “What?” Eric said. He sat forward slightly.
    But his father just shook his head. “Nothing.”
    Eric slumped back into the tattered upholstery of the sofa. It wasn’t fair, he fumed inwardly. Why wouldn’t he talk about her? Ericknew hardly anything about her; he’d never even seen a photograph. He suddenly thought of the locket, the tiny portrait inside.
    “I wonder if they’ll be able to save any of the books,” his father muttered. “The worst thing is hardly anyone cares. Most people would rather watch the library burn on TV than read a book.”
    “Chris is probably watching it right now, eating popcorn,” Eric said to annoy his father.
    His father just nodded sadly.
    “The whole city’s been changing so fast, it’s frightening,” he said. “It’s all so different from what it used to be.”
    “Lots of construction,” Eric said.
    “It’s not just the construction,” his father replied, waving his hand dismissively.