"12 - Murder@Maggody(dot)com" - читать интересную книгу автора (12 - Murder@Maggody(dot)com)

Ruby Bee rumbled, but held her peace. Mrs. Jim Bob (aka Barbara Ann Buchanon Buchanon) produced a frigid smile, in that she-and everyone else-knew what Jim Bob would rather be doing at the moment. Lace nighties rather than flannel pajamas may have been in more than one individual's thoughts, and no one was including Mrs. Jim Bob in the scene.

"Lottie," he went on, "has, without so much as consulting the very school board that pays her salary and retirement benefits, applied for and received a grant in the sum of fifty thousand dollars to put in a computer lab at the high school. Sounds good, don't it? Free money to buy all kinds of equipment and give our kids a chance to get their butts kicked into the new millennium."

Mrs. Jim Bob stood up and snatched the microphone out of his hand. "I feel sure Mayor Buchanon could have phrased that better. Nobody in Maggody wants our youth to be at a disadvantage when they go out to find gainful employment, marry, and start families. We want them to have a solid education based on decency and a healthy fear of eternal damnation should they stray into wickedness."

She sat down and crossed her arms, daring anyone to contradict her.

"Amen!" boomed a voice from the back of the room. None of us bothered to turn around, since we'd all recognized the resonating timbre of Brother Verber, guardian of the flock at the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall. Despite its name, Mrs. Jim Bob pretty much ran the show.

It was time for Lottie to seize the floor, if not the moment. She rose, flapping her hands as if she might stir up enough agitation to send all of us swirling into each other like autumn leaves. "This is ridiculous!" she said. "We have the grant. The money is available. Why would we not want to accept it? Our youth need to become computer literate. Where does wickedness come into this?"

Mrs. Jim Bob cocked her head like a greedy robin. "I have been told that pornography is easily available on the Internet."

Before Estelle could prompt me with her elbow, I stood up. "I've been told pornography is easily available-period. Should I shut down the post office?"

"We don't have a post office, missy," Mrs. Jim Bob said, then realized she'd been baited and shot me a beady glare before resuming the pulpit. "But I do think we have to share a concern that our youth might find themselves staring at pictures of naked people. We cannot allow such a thing."

Lottie flapped harder. "We have the funds to hire a teacher to oversee the program, and I've found the perfect candidate. He has assured me that he'll be able to block access to pornography. Our students will be reading government studies and downloading images from museums."

Mrs. Jim Bob turned up her nose as if she'd caught a whiff of sour milk. "There are graven images to be found in many a museum, Lottie. There are portrayals of bare-breasted women engaged in licentious behavior, condoned by the secular humanists but potentially destructive to the innocent children stumbling across them."

"Hey," I said, "buy me another box of bullets and I can shoot all the curates."

"We are not discussing health care," Mrs. Jim Bob countered coldly. "Unless we can feel confident that our teenagers will not-"

"May I speak?" said a young man who was obviously going to do so with or without her blessing. "My name is Justin Bailey. I have a degree in computer sciences from Farber College, and I'm currently doing research in preparation to begin a graduate degree. Miss Estes has tentatively offered me a position as lab supervisor and systems administrator. In that capacity, I can assure you that filtering software will ensure no one can access-"

"Speak English!" Jim Bob snarled.

We all turned around to stare at the alien from cyberspace. He had thin brown hair that allowed a mild glimmer on his scalp, and eyeballs that seemed a tad too conspicuous behind wirerimmed glasses. His short-sleeved white polyester shirt and clipon bow tie did not make a compelling fashion statement. Had I encountered him on a Manhattan sidewalk, my instinct would have been to cross the street. Then again, his fingernails were clean and the corners of his mouth free of saliva.

Rare traits in Maggody.

"Inappropriate web sites will be blocked," he said. "Some students will attempt to circumvent my restrictions, but I'll monitor their activities and cut them off within a day. Those who persevere will be kicked out of the lab."

"He has excellent credentials," gushed Lottie. "I see no reason why our youth should go out into the world without the best possible-"

Jim Bob banged his fist on the table. "It's a matter of money! You may have this goddamn-fool grant, but we have to provide the facilities and the utilities and all kinds of expensive things. We can't afford a crossing guard at the intersection by the Pot O' Gold. The football team's playing in last year's uniforms. The table saw in the shop is duller than a widow's ax. Now why should we use this windfall so's our students get to stare at buck-naked ladies when we could be buying a real nice van to transport the basketball team to out-of-town games?"

Justin grimaced. "You could use the money for cases of canned corn in the cafeteria, for that matter. The Internet is here and now, however, and those who don't have a clue are going to be sucking up exhaust fumes as the rest of the world drives by."

"It's clear nobody is stopping around here," Ruby Bee contributed. She may have expected some show of support, but the silence was on the profound side. "Lottie's right. We can't be sending out our youngsters without what they need to succeed. I don't see why utility bills should be more important than being able to compete in college. You ask Arly here how she fared when she-"

"I fared," I said hastily. "I agree that this computer lab is a good idea. As alarming as the concept may be, it's reality. We can't ignore it."

Lottie beamed at me. "What's more, we can all venture onto this mysterious Internet. Justin will teach classes during the school day, and then share his expertise with adults in the evening. All of us can learn to"-she giggled in what struck me as a vaguely unbalanced way-"surf the net. Our little community can have its very own web site, where we can share the particular delights of Maggody. Merchants like Jim Bob and Ruby Bee can advertise their specials. Estelle can let everyone know when she's having a sale on cosmetics and perms. Brother Verber can put up photos of activities at the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall and cite Bible verses for daily meditations. Tourists will come swarming in to appreciate our uniqueness."

"Or to stare at Raz," someone muttered from the back of the room. "Him and that sow make a better sideshow than anything in a museum, buck-naked or not."