“Oh God.” Serenity sat up. “Where’s a mirror? I thought we were going to add a mirror in here?”
“You decided to put it in your new office. A supermirror, remember? But not here.”
“Just as well. I’m not sure I want to see myself right now. Hold them off while I run home and get a shower.”
A young woman with purple hair elbowed past Joy. “No time. We’re on deadline.”
“Who are you?”
She pushed up to Serenity and kneaded her face like it was a clay statue. “GMA hair and makeup. We can fix this.”
“Five minutes,” she yelled. “Jake!” A young man with hair like a rooster’s comb slid into the room with a makeup case, clucking disapproval. They poked and prodded at her face for four minutes and fifty-nine seconds until someone yelled, “Time,” and the woman said, “It’ll do.” The boy said, “Glad it’s not my face,” and Serenity was herded out the door and across to the new MAD.
The Forbes reporter met her at the entrance and shook her hand enthusiastically. “Thanks for doing this so early. Our photographer wanted to capture this early shot with you in front with the sun coming up.”
Through the grogginess, Serenity said, “Sure.” She shook her head hard enough to shake as much clarity as she was going to get into it today. “But no. Not me. Don’t make me the story. Back up and get the full MAD gleaming in the sun with workers still climbing around the top floor and that line of people fighting to get in early. We’re not even formally opening today, just letting a limited number into the first two floors. Despite that, it looks like half of North Alabama wants to get in. That’s the story.”
The Forbes photographer faded and a tall black woman stepped in.
“You’re Robin Roberts,” said Serenity.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I’m an Alabama girl just like you. It’s good to see a story like this in my home state. Here’s what we’ve planned to do: A quick intro with you out front, talking about the library. Then we’ll follow you in and get you to show us the first floor. We’ll throw it back to New York while we go up to the second floor. We’ll break the story into seven quick pieces spread out over the hour.”
“They’re still working on the top floor today, so it’ll be a mess.”
“Perfect ending.”
“And until tomorrow, nothing’s functional—except the first floor.”
“Even better. Chaos sells.”
Serenity smiled. “Then you’re going to get rich here. Let me suggest two things. Focus on the MAD, not me. And do your intro out here, without me. Come inside, I’ll greet you and we’ll do the first floor.”
“That’s what we had planned on. We have a camera setup on each floor. And thing two?”
“It’s not ‘the library’ anymore. This is the MAD.”
Serenity went inside and scampered to the coffee bar. “Depth Bomb, Tom. Fast, and in a MAD mug.”
She took the mug and walked over to the door where she practiced a smile that made her feel like her face was cracking. She took as big a sip as she could and turned it into a cracked smile with a scalded windpipe.
The entourage came in and she held the smile.
“Welcome to the MAD,” she said after Roberts introduced her. “This is our welcome floor. This desk is where a patron can bring any question to our help desk librarian like Ms. Doom here and she’ll have a librarian—a MADman or a MADwoman—take them to the right floor to get started. People can bring us anything they need help with—educational, business, medical, life. We won’t solve it, but we’ll make sure they get hooked up with whatever knowledge they need.”
She laughed. “And, also here on the first floor, we’ve got community spaces. You can ask Ms. Doom where to get a good grouper sandwich…” Doom pointed to the cafe door, and Serenity hoisted her cup into the shot. “…or MAD coffee…” Doom pointed to the coffee shop. “…or just a good place to hang out with friends or business colleagues. Years ago, coffee shops in the Northwest hit on the idea of making their stores a kind of third place, something different from both home and work, but with characteristics that include a little of both. Our MAD will be a third place on a grand scale.”
She smiled and motioned the Forbes guy into the frame. “This is Bruce Bowden from Forbes magazine. We wanted to get his take on the MAD from a business angle.”
Bowden said, “Ms. Hammer has her take on the value of all of this, but we at Forbes have a different reason why we’re excited: we see this as the next stage in American business. Business is often done away from work at parties and bars. This unites all that: work, family, and community, with more knowledge power than ever before. If two guys are having a beer in the brewpub and wonder if the idea they’ve just come up with is feasible, they can walk up a flight of stairs to the business center before they even finish the first beer. There’s nothing like this anywhere else.”
The director signaled cut and they all took the elevator up a floor.
“Second floor,” said Serenity when the cameras were rolling. “This is our semi-traditional library itself. Books and knowledge technicians and who knows what else.”
Roberts said, “This doesn’t seem that much bigger than your old library.”
“It’s not. Yes, we have a few more paper books here than we had in the old library—or will, when we get them all moved in. Books will still be around for a long, long time. But we’ve got connections to everything else: the internet, databases, even video connections to experts across the world. And, knowledge technicians of every specialty, and no specialty at all.”
“That might be a future show,” Roberts said. “We might come back here one morning to take questions on-line and see what MAD can do for our viewers.”
“Anytime.”
“The first floor seemed to have customers—”
“Patrons. Customers are people who shop at someone else’s store. This is their MAD, and we are grateful every time they come here. Yes, we have a few patrons downstairs. The MAD doesn’t open until tomorrow morning—but we’re doing a soft launch today. We’re letting a few people in at a time to the first floor now. That’s what the line is outside. At noon, we’re going to open up the second floor on a limited basis.”
Third floor. Serenity showed the business and employment center with mostly open desks and computers with plastic still on them. She gave a run-through and turned to Bowden.
“See, this is what is new and—we hope—revolutionary. We’ve tried business incubators before, and they tied corporations and entrepreneurs together. But this ties it all together: businesses, potential employees, and the services needed to make it work, all together. Maker spaces with three-D printers and other tools so people can prove their concepts without spending a ton of start-up cash. When the businesses get big enough, they’ll move out on their own.”
“And we’ll be there with them even then,” Serenity said, “helping them find or build space, and making sure that they stay connected. Once they’re up and running, every business will have a librarian assigned as their contact, with an office here at the MAD and, if the business chooses, an office at their business making sure that they have all the knowledge they need. And, all the data connectivity they need will be free, coming through the MAD.”
Bowden said, “We’ve had models where we offered free utilities and such in a business zone, but never a city built on free knowledge, of every kind.”
Fourth floor. Serenity showed them the education center, with college prep and early learning centers. A man was testing a camera in the media center and Serenity motioned Roberts into the chair behind the news desk. “And this, Robin, is where we’ll train your replacement.”