bookcases against the
wall."
"No, I mean why are they writing the translation with
pens on paper?"
"How else would you do it?"
"I would type the translation into a word processor
program."
"I saw a book about one of those. I read the first
chapter and couldn't make sense of it. Assuming we had a word processor, which
we don't, how would we get the translation on paper, so others could read
it?"
"You would use a printer. A device that prints words
on paper."
"I've seen such a device on an upper deck, but we've
none here. The only printers we have, in this room, are my workers."
"What do you do if you need another copy?"
"Someone copies the original. We have to, anyway, at
least once. We can't allow anyone to take the proof."
"There's got to be a better way. What books are they
translating? Do you mind if I look?"
At Valin's nod, he circled the table, checking each title.
"You picked these at random, didn't you?"
"We had no other method of doing so, without your
help."
Tommy picked up one of the notebooks--it had University of
Connecticut printed on the cover--and compared the first few pages of the
translation with the book. He shook his head. "You know, guessing
doesn't help with this. Valin, do you remember seeing computer books with
'Idiot' or 'Dummies' in the title?"
"Yes, I remember seeing those."
"Why didn't you pick any of those to translate?"
Valin's sniff was audible. "The titles were insulting,
since we are neither idiots nor dummies. The books I did choose were
weightier, with more content."
Tommy shook his head. "Yes, they are, and they're
beyond you at the moment. The idiot and dummy books are for beginners. The
language is simple, and they have lots of diagrams. If your assistants
translate those, they might learn something, then the weightier books will be
easier." A thought occurred to him. He looked at the door to the room
containing the dead computers. "Even better, you won't need as much of my
help for the translations, and I'll have time to do other things."
"What else will you be doing?"
"All of this will be much easier if you have a computer
to work with. If you'll let me, I'll be building a system from a few of those
spare parts in the warehouse."
Valin made another call to Feron, and, after the midday
meal, Tommy was again in the storage room, unwrapping pallets of computer
equipment. He looked up from tearing off the plastic wrap on a pallet to Feron
who had let him in. "It would help if you had a list of all this
stuff."
"We do. Several. At least for part of what is
here."
"You do! Why didn’t you give it to me when we were
here before? A list would have saved time."
"That never occurred to me. You seemed to know what
you were doing. I didn't want to interfere."
When Feron returned with a stack of paper six inches thick,
Tommy stopped opening pallets and spread the stack on the floor. As he studied
the lists, he smiled. The smile became, "Yes! Yes!" when the last
page was turned.
"I hope that means good news," Feron said.
"I think it does. As best I can tell, two-thirds of
what you have in this room is from two companies that went out of business
after the last Christmas I was on Earth. Both companies were on-line suppliers
and had a little bit of everything. These papers say your agent bid on and won
their entire remaining inventory. What's here was already six months out of
date when you brought me here, but that doesn't matter to you. It certainly
doesn't matter to me. The computer I was using at home was eighteen months old
and wasn't the fastest one available. Somewhere in this room are pallets of
PC's up to 3.2 GigaHertz, tower servers, laptops, printers, disk drives,
monitors, switches, routers--whatever we could wish for. We even have two thousand
cases of printer paper."
"You should realize I have no idea what any of that
means. Will that help us use Earth computers on this ship?
wall."
"No, I mean why are they writing the translation with
pens on paper?"
"How else would you do it?"
"I would type the translation into a word processor
program."
"I saw a book about one of those. I read the first
chapter and couldn't make sense of it. Assuming we had a word processor, which
we don't, how would we get the translation on paper, so others could read
it?"
"You would use a printer. A device that prints words
on paper."
"I've seen such a device on an upper deck, but we've
none here. The only printers we have, in this room, are my workers."
"What do you do if you need another copy?"
"Someone copies the original. We have to, anyway, at
least once. We can't allow anyone to take the proof."
"There's got to be a better way. What books are they
translating? Do you mind if I look?"
At Valin's nod, he circled the table, checking each title.
"You picked these at random, didn't you?"
"We had no other method of doing so, without your
help."
Tommy picked up one of the notebooks--it had University of
Connecticut printed on the cover--and compared the first few pages of the
translation with the book. He shook his head. "You know, guessing
doesn't help with this. Valin, do you remember seeing computer books with
'Idiot' or 'Dummies' in the title?"
"Yes, I remember seeing those."
"Why didn't you pick any of those to translate?"
Valin's sniff was audible. "The titles were insulting,
since we are neither idiots nor dummies. The books I did choose were
weightier, with more content."
Tommy shook his head. "Yes, they are, and they're
beyond you at the moment. The idiot and dummy books are for beginners. The
language is simple, and they have lots of diagrams. If your assistants
translate those, they might learn something, then the weightier books will be
easier." A thought occurred to him. He looked at the door to the room
containing the dead computers. "Even better, you won't need as much of my
help for the translations, and I'll have time to do other things."
"What else will you be doing?"
"All of this will be much easier if you have a computer
to work with. If you'll let me, I'll be building a system from a few of those
spare parts in the warehouse."
Valin made another call to Feron, and, after the midday
meal, Tommy was again in the storage room, unwrapping pallets of computer
equipment. He looked up from tearing off the plastic wrap on a pallet to Feron
who had let him in. "It would help if you had a list of all this
stuff."
"We do. Several. At least for part of what is
here."
"You do! Why didn’t you give it to me when we were
here before? A list would have saved time."
"That never occurred to me. You seemed to know what
you were doing. I didn't want to interfere."
When Feron returned with a stack of paper six inches thick,
Tommy stopped opening pallets and spread the stack on the floor. As he studied
the lists, he smiled. The smile became, "Yes! Yes!" when the last
page was turned.
"I hope that means good news," Feron said.
"I think it does. As best I can tell, two-thirds of
what you have in this room is from two companies that went out of business
after the last Christmas I was on Earth. Both companies were on-line suppliers
and had a little bit of everything. These papers say your agent bid on and won
their entire remaining inventory. What's here was already six months out of
date when you brought me here, but that doesn't matter to you. It certainly
doesn't matter to me. The computer I was using at home was eighteen months old
and wasn't the fastest one available. Somewhere in this room are pallets of
PC's up to 3.2 GigaHertz, tower servers, laptops, printers, disk drives,
monitors, switches, routers--whatever we could wish for. We even have two thousand
cases of printer paper."
"You should realize I have no idea what any of that
means. Will that help us use Earth computers on this ship?
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