Moretta

Moretta had waited most of the morning to talk to Center City’s Master of Trade. Apparently Master Earnest also held various other offices and had many pressing duties. His secretary, Katelin, had been making Moretta comfortable in the small anteroom to his office in the City Hall.

“Master Earnest should be here soon. He almost always stops by at least two fists before noon to see if there’ve been any messengers.” It was the first thing the secretary had said in almost a fist. They had both been delicately reading crumbling paperbacks from a shelf that lined one wall of the anteroom.

Moretta read very slowly and had only finished a few pages. Though she had been reading it for the better part of an hour, she decided she would not finish it, and slid the book into the space it had left. They were pre-end books. Pre-end books were not necisarrily difficult to find. But in a world where only a few people could actually read, only a few people had any intrest in them. There were some places, Moretta knew, that would buy books that intrested them. Terrapin Station had a library; they would buy things in good condition, and pay extra for hardback books and discs. There were several stalls at the Hot Springs Market that dealt in books. White River and Memphis were the only two other places Moretta could think of off-hand that might buy books. She could not think of anybody that would want these old paperbacks though. They were all sex books; on their covers were spread beautiful scantily clad women, and strong handsome men. They were not nearly as racy as some of the old skin mags she had seen in Memphis, though a few were close.

“How many of these have you read?” Moretta asked the secretary, not really expecting a reply. The girl had been quiet all morning.

“I’ve read a little bit of all of them. Just the dirty parts, mostly. He hasn’t brought in any new ones in quite a while though. The collection started off as his grandmother’s or something.”

It was the most she had said since Moretta had gotten there earlier. Moretta did not like to have her ears talked off, but silence sometimes bothered her just as much. Katelin even moved around quietly as she worked. She had gone through several stacks of papers and entered data into some wide ledgers.

“Lemme ask you something,” Moretta said, sitting down in the chair in front of the secretary’s desk.

Katelin lowered the romance novel, her finger marking her place, eyebrows raised. “Go ahead.”

“Obviously Center City’s got beer to trade, but what else does it really have to offer in trade?”