Tweed stared at me as Libris went on to his third point.

'UltraWord™ is too important to be loused up by you,' said Tweed with a sneer. 'I agree there might be certain downsides but overall the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks.'

'Benefits to who, Tweed? You and Kaine?'

'Of course. And you too if only you'd stop meddling.'

'What did Kaine buy you with?'

'He didn't buy me, Next. We merged. His contacts in the Outland and my position at Jurisflction. A fictional person in the real world and a real person in fiction. A better partnership it would be hard to imagine!'

'When they hear what I have to say,' I replied calmly, 'they'll never give you the vote.'

Tweed smiled that supercilious smile of his and stepped aside.

'You want to have your say, Thursday? Go ahead. Make a fool of yourself. But remember this: anything you say we can refute. We can modify the rules, change the facts, deny the truth, with written proof. That's the beauty of UltraWord™ — everything can be keyed in direct from Text Grand Central and, as you've so correctly gathered, everything there is controlled by Kaine, Libris and me. It's as easy to change the facts as it is to write a stub axle failure on the Bluebird — or unlock a padlock, or spill mispeling vyrus. Merely keystrokes, Next. We have the Great Library within our control — with the source text at our fingertips we can do anything. History will be good to us because we are the ones who shall write it!'

He laughed.

'You might as well try and canoe up a waterfall.'

He patted me patronisingly on the shoulder.

'But just in case you've got something up your sleeve,' he added, 'seven thousand highly trained Mrs Danvers are on call, ready to move in on my word. We can even write a rebellion if we want — the Council won't be able to tell the difference between a real one and a written one. We will have this vote, Thursday.'

'Yes, you might,' I conceded. 'All I want is for the characters to have their say with all the facts, not just yours.'

I looked at Libris on the stage.

'Point ten,' he went on as Heathcliff looked at his watch impatiently, 'all characters wherever they reside will be given four weeks' holiday a year in whichever book they choose.'

There was a roar of applause; he was offering everything they wanted to hear, buying the inhabitants of the BookWorld with hollow promises.

Tweed spoke into his mobile footnoterphone.

'Miss Next wants to have her say.'

I saw Libris touch his ear and turn round to stare at me contemptuously.

'But before the vote,' he added, 'before you say the word and we move upwards into broad sunlit pastures, I understand we have a Jurisfiction agent who wants to offer a counterpoint to my statement. This is her right. It is your right to ask for proof if you wish — and I most strongly request that you do so. Ladies and gentlemen, things — Miss Thursday Next!'

I murmured into my mobile footnoterphone.

'Go, Mimi, go!'[25]

Everyone in the Starlight Room reacted slightly to the distant explosion. Tweed steadied himself and spun round to glare at me.

'What was that?'

I patted him patronisingly on the shoulder.

'It's called levelling the playing field, Harris.'

33

UltraWord™

Hamlet and Jude Fawley exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders as I walked up the steps and looked out at the crowd. Heathcliff, for whom all of this was merely delaying his moment of honour, glowered at me angrily. Oddly, I didn't feel at all nervous — only a sort of numb elation. I would do some serious throwing up in the toilets later, but for now I was fine.

'Good evening,' I said to the utterly silent audience. 'No one would deny that we need more plots, but there are one or two things about UltraWord™ that you should know.'

'Grand Central?!' said Tweed uselessly into his mobile footnoter-phone. 'Tweed to Text Grand Central, come in, please!'

I didn't have long. As soon as TGC knew what had happened they could write themselves another footnoterphone link.

'First, there are no new plots. In all the testing that has been done, not one has been described or hinted at. Libris, would you care to outline a "new" plot now?'

'They won't be available until UltraWord™ is online,' he said, glaring at Tweed, who was still trying to contact Text Grand Central.

'Then they are untested. Second,' I went on, 'UltraWord™ carries a thrice-read-only feature. This means no more book lending. Libraries will close down overnight, second-hand bookshops will be a thing of the past. Words can educate and liberate — but TGC want to make them a saleable commodity and nothing more.'

The crowd started to murmur to one another. Not one of those murmurs you usually get in the BookWorld, just a descriptive term, but a real murmur — seven million people all discussing what I had just said.

'Orlick!' I heard Tweed shout. 'Get to TGC — run if you have to — and get the footnoterphone repaired!'

'This is preposterous!' yelled Libris, almost apoplectic with rage. 'Lies, damnable lies!'

'Here,' I said, tossing Deane's copy of The Little Prince on to the table right at the front. The displacement field technology worked perfectly — a single book landed on each of the hundred thousand tables.

'This is an UltraWord™ book,' I explained. 'Read the first page and pass it on. See how long it takes before you can't open it.'

'Tweed!?' yelled Libris, who was still next to me on the stage and becoming more agitated by the second. 'Do something!'

I pointed at Xavier.

'WordMaster Libris could refute my arguments with ease, simply by rewriting the facts. He could have unblocked the book already but for one thing — all the lines are down to Text Grand Central. As soon as they are up again, each of these books will be unblocked. Perkins was murdered when he found out what they were up to. He told Snell and he was killed too. Miss Havisham didn't know but TGC suspected that she did, so she had to be silenced.'

The Bellman had risen to his feet and was walking to the front of the stage.

'Is this true?' he asked, eyes blazing.

'No, Your Bellship,' replied Libris, 'on my honour. As soon as we get back online we will refute every single claim the misinformed Miss Next has made!'

The Bellman looked at me.

'Better get a move on, young lady. You have the crowd but for how long I have no idea.'

'Third, and more importantly, all books written using the UltraWord™ system can be fixed direct from Text Grand Central — there will be no need for Jurisfiction. Everything we do can be achieved by low-skilled technicians at TGC.'

'Ah!' said Libris, interrupting. 'Now we get to your real point — fearful of your job, perhaps?'