Mateo and Heath aren’t about to leave just yet. It will be at least another
week, possibly two. They’re pretty sure they’re going to do it, but they
don’t want to jump into anything without thinking it through. They’re going
to need a little time to plan out some kind of itinerary. Until then, Mateo
is going to continue to study at the library. Today, Angela is there for a
different reason, which is to become a volunteer. She doesn’t have a degree
in library sciences, so she isn’t seeking a paid position, and it doesn’t
bother her much that her alternate self is paying her way now, so this
should work out just fine. She isn’t worried that they’ll reject her, but
she still wants to look nice, and be professional. She’s wearing a slightly
frilly blouse, gray jacket, and a matching gray pencil skirt. Though, they
call that last one a slimmy here, which probably doesn’t sound funny to the
natives.
As the hour approaches, she finds herself to be more nervous than she
should. She knows the librarian, Madam MacDougas pretty well, and they seem
to have a good rapport, but now that she thinks about it, she’s never
interviewed before. Before she died, she wasn’t allowed to have a job. She
was always expected to meet a nice white man, and let him take care of her
financially—preferably someone with lots of slaves, since they add to the
profits, but not the overhead—while she handled the housework. When she was
on track to become a counselor in the afterlife simulation, she was just
promoted when it was time. Her past actions were enough to prove that she
was ready for the responsibility, and if they had not been, the people in
charge would have simply waited until they were.
Mateo senses her anxiety. “You. Are. One of the wisest, and kindest people I
know. You may be the best. You’re gonna do great.”
She smiles. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be in philosophy. You remember where that is? It might be on the
test.”
“I’ll see you later, Mateo,” Angela says. She breathes, and prepares
herself. Then she walks over to the counter, where Madam McDougas is opening
her daily computer programs. “Do you have time to talk?”
Madam McDougas stops what she’s doing, and places her hands on her lap.
“It’s about time.”
Angela looks at her watch. “You just opened.”
“No, I mean it’s about time you asked me for a job.”
“How did you know?”
“You’ve been spending most of your time recently scanning the shelves, and
taking notes. I gathered that you were familiarizing yourself with the
organization of the books, instead of studying the subjects inside. You
haven’t cracked a book in three days.”
“Oh. That’s quite observant of you. Well, I don’t need a job. I just wanted
to donate some of my time.”
“Are you sure? We do have a couple of open positions.”
“I’m not qualified for such things. I just like learning.”
“Maybe we could work something out. What if I took a look at your résumé?”
Angela grimaced.
“You don’t have one of those, do you?”
“My past is...complicated.”
Madam McDougas nods. “Like Azad Devi.”
“I don’t know who that is,” Angela apologizes, hoping to God that it is the
name of a person, though.
“Hm. You could stand to read a little more fiction. If you’re only a
volunteer, you’ll have time for that.”
“Anything. Shelving, cleaning; I’ll do whatever you need...except teach
fiction. Where I grew up, such media was scarce.”
Madam McDougas nods. “Some cults are more complicated than others. I don’t
need to hear the details.”
That’s a good thing to know, that people might stop asking questions if you
lead them to believe that your religion of origin was obscure, and limiting
in bizarre ways. Yeah, that’s it. She didn’t know that pencil skirts were
called slimmies because she was raised in a sheltered environment. That
makes sense. She’ll have to remember to pass this advice on to the others.
They just don’t want to be too specific, or claim a lie that can be too
easily refuted. “I appreciate your understanding,” Angela says, neither
confirming, nor denying, Madam McDougas’ assumptions.
“It will help to know more about what you know. Do you have any experience
in a library, or an educational setting?”
Yes, actually. There were plenty of such facilities in the afterlife
simulation. If someone at a higher level wanted to know something, they
could just ask, and an answer would come. For the rest, some of the more
fortunate strongly believed that they still deserved whatever education they
desired, so they built places of learning. Limiteds and Basics were
especially fond of these constructs, but they weren’t the only ones in need.
Level 3 Hock prisoners were mostly stuck in their cells and cell blocks.
Having access to the means of expanding their knowledge was fundamental to
maintaining their sanity under sentences of centuries, or even millennia.
Angela felt honored to help them through that in this way, and this attitude
is part of what promoted her to higher levels in the first place.
“I’ve volunteered at libraries before, and for continuing education
programs.”
Madam McDougas is pleased with this answer. “That’s all I need to know. We
already have plenty of volunteers, so I don’t have anything specific to
assign you. Why don’t you go meet with Doug, and see what he might have for
you to do.”
“Thank you for this opportunity,” Angela says graciously.
“Thank you,” she echoes.
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