A musical interlude
[Hm. That's not Sheska... Unless something turned her into a cat-- oh, no, it moved and there's Sheska, standing with her back to the screen, looking over a room chock full of bookshelves. She's musing to herself.]
Maybe they're right. Maybe there is something wrong with me. I just don't see... how owning more books can be bad. [Sheska begins to wander through the shelves, caressing spines, smiling at her favorite titles, to an accompanying ripple of music. She sings without realizing that she's doing so.]
Look at this room: isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection complete? Wouldn't you think I'm a girl... A girl who has... everything? Look at this trove - treasures retold. How many wonders can one bookshelf hold? Looking around here you think - sure - she's got everything!
I've got Shakespeare and Byron a-plenty. [She carefully removes a book or two from a few different shelves.] I've got Mark Twain and Dickens galore. You want dictionaries? [Her fingers run along an entire shelf of books that even from the camera's vantage point look like thick hardcover volumes in sets of twos and threes.] I've got twenty! But who cares? No big deal... I want more... [Her expression has a wistful hunger to it as she returns to the desk by the camera to set down the stack she's gathered. She stares at the stack, but she isn't really seeing them.]
I want to read some off-world books. I want to speak - want to hear their poems. To hear them aloud after, oh, years! I want to learn a few languages. More are required for understanding; researching the cultures and legend lore. [Selecting one of the books, Sheska opens it to a Mercator projection of Earth, tracing the continents with a fingertip, pausing when she recognizes a name of a country she's met.] How do they live? What do they eat? How do they practice magic among their elite? What do they love? What do they hate? Out in their world...
[Restlessly, she turns back to the shelves, pacing their lengths, not certain of herself, but a-fire with the passion of her cause.] What would I show if I could know some of their stories? What would I pay to spend a day in their libraries? I'd bet somewhere out there that sells only books and naught else. If I could find it... then I could bring back... something for all!
[Back to the desk and its encyclopedia, flipping through the pages.] I'm ready to know what those people know - ask all my questions and look up answers: what's Niflheim and who were the - what's the word? Norns? [She snaps the book shut, staring at it as though the answers could rise up from the covers. The next words are certainly not about the Norse, but about these books she lacks.] Where are they found? What do they cost? How can I transport them here from worlds 'round? From there to me... so they can be my own library? [The fanaticism has died, leaving a bare, lonely need to shape her features. A last arpeggio and the music fades as well. It releases its hold, and she finally sees the recording symbol on her laptop. With a puzzled look, she turns it off.]
Maybe they're right. Maybe there is something wrong with me. I just don't see... how owning more books can be bad. [Sheska begins to wander through the shelves, caressing spines, smiling at her favorite titles, to an accompanying ripple of music. She sings without realizing that she's doing so.]
Look at this room: isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection complete? Wouldn't you think I'm a girl... A girl who has... everything? Look at this trove - treasures retold. How many wonders can one bookshelf hold? Looking around here you think - sure - she's got everything!
I've got Shakespeare and Byron a-plenty. [She carefully removes a book or two from a few different shelves.] I've got Mark Twain and Dickens galore. You want dictionaries? [Her fingers run along an entire shelf of books that even from the camera's vantage point look like thick hardcover volumes in sets of twos and threes.] I've got twenty! But who cares? No big deal... I want more... [Her expression has a wistful hunger to it as she returns to the desk by the camera to set down the stack she's gathered. She stares at the stack, but she isn't really seeing them.]
I want to read some off-world books. I want to speak - want to hear their poems. To hear them aloud after, oh, years! I want to learn a few languages. More are required for understanding; researching the cultures and legend lore. [Selecting one of the books, Sheska opens it to a Mercator projection of Earth, tracing the continents with a fingertip, pausing when she recognizes a name of a country she's met.] How do they live? What do they eat? How do they practice magic among their elite? What do they love? What do they hate? Out in their world...
[Restlessly, she turns back to the shelves, pacing their lengths, not certain of herself, but a-fire with the passion of her cause.] What would I show if I could know some of their stories? What would I pay to spend a day in their libraries? I'd bet somewhere out there that sells only books and naught else. If I could find it... then I could bring back... something for all!
[Back to the desk and its encyclopedia, flipping through the pages.] I'm ready to know what those people know - ask all my questions and look up answers: what's Niflheim and who were the - what's the word? Norns? [She snaps the book shut, staring at it as though the answers could rise up from the covers. The next words are certainly not about the Norse, but about these books she lacks.] Where are they found? What do they cost? How can I transport them here from worlds 'round? From there to me... so they can be my own library? [The fanaticism has died, leaving a bare, lonely need to shape her features. A last arpeggio and the music fades as well. It releases its hold, and she finally sees the recording symbol on her laptop. With a puzzled look, she turns it off.]