Mute (Muted Trilogy Book 1) (6 page)

Yeah. I mean, he got like instafamous overnight. It sounds JUST like when they talk, and this says that it’ll work on any program, so you just have to have Word open or whatever, don’t have to type into the program itself. And then if you’ve got enough money, you can even get one personalized. If you’ve got recordings of yourself, of course.

And then it’s your voice?

Yeah
, Jill answered.
It’s pretty cool. I mean, it costs like megabucks. I think I heard it was ten grand for the most basic one? But then it sounds just like you. I’d totally get it if I was rich.

Doesn’t sound too bad.
She looked over the list of celebrity voices.
Who would you pick? David Tennant probably wouldn’t be the easiest for most people around here to understand.

Ha! Nobody would be able to understand him except you and the people who watched that show. I dunno who I would pick. You want someone easy to understand, right? What about like Oprah?
Jill typed.

Jemma thought. She’d start with one app, and she could get more if she got tired of the voice. She scrolled down the list, then smiled, pointing. Jill nodded, grinning back, and clicked to download the voice app for LeVar Burton.

While Jemma entered her payment information, Jill picked back up her phone and started typing. Carolyn glanced at the girls, then went back to her romance novel. When the download had finished, Jemma opened the program and went into the options. She told it to read anything typed into the computer, and she agreed to the standard pace of speech for the celebrity. She minimized it, as the directions indicated, then switched back to Word.

“Testing,” blared Burton’s voice, and Jemma jumped, quickly fumbling for the volume buttons. When she looked up, Jill was glaring at her, and her mother had her hand over her mouth, book hanging loosely from the other hand. Jemma checked the volume before typing again. “Sorry!”

Carolyn looked intrigued, if still a little too pale, and she got up to come see. Jemma typed again.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mother smiled and reached over her to type on the keyboard. “Never expected to be the mother of Geordi.” She paused. “Oh, this is weird. Are you planning to talk this way?”

“Just at work,” answered Jemma.

Jill typed furiously on her phone again, then reached over to the keyboard.

“OMG, there’s totally an angry librarian version,” said Burton’s voice, and Jemma laughed silently.

“That might not be the most soothing. Reading Rainbow voice, this works,” Jemma typed.

Matthew came into the room, looking curiously at his family around the tablet. Jill reached over and pulled it more firmly in front of her, slowly enough that Jemma didn’t worry about the expensive electronic.

“Dad, you said I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up, so I grew up to be the Reading Rainbow guy!”

Their father smiled and joined them.

“Pretty neat,” he typed, “But I think I’ll stick to writing. At least I can picture the real voices that way.”

Jemma nodded. It felt bizarre, her words being spoken by the voice of someone else, even if it was a familiar voice from multiple childhood favorite shows. She looked at her family members to see whether they had anything else to say, then deactivated the speaking app. She would try this tomorrow. She put away the tablet and grabbed the whiteboard from the center of the table.

You guys have anything planned for the day?
she wrote.

Three heads shook, and Carolyn reached for the board.
Stay for lunch? Tuna melts.

Okay
, Jemma answered. Matt went back to the living room, and Carolyn and Jemma followed. When her parents both sat down with books, Jemma took her e-reader out of her purse and curled up on the loveseat.

After a few minutes, her father reached for the remote and turned on the television. Jemma looked up and saw it was the news anchors they’d settled on that first night.

Still no updates from WHO regarding whether this was a disease, whether it has affected us physically in any way. So far, studies have shown that everything is functioning perfectly,
read Gina’s speech bubble.

There appears to be an undetectable film at the back of the mouth, but it isn’t showing on any tests. Sound shot into the mouth disappears there, and a microphone inserted into the throat catches no noise, from either lungs and throat or from the mouth
, wrote Rob.

Riots have finally been completely quelled in major cities in the US, though some of these might be only temporary as many larger cities remain under martial law
, wrote Gina, looking at the camera rather than at the keyboard.

Officials say that they are not yet ready to leave the citizens of the cities unprotected. Meanwhile, locally, we have seen a minimal military presence, despite the many nearby bases
, typed Rob, glancing at his keyboard periodically.

MREs are still being provided at local police and fire departments on an as-needed basis
, said Gina.
Stay tuned for weather after a message from our sponsors.

Jemma tensed, ready for a loud commercial, but instead, the ad was text-based, words flashing and scrolling, changing colors for emphasis, explaining how their fruit juice, which was 8% real fruit, could make you feel as good as if you could sing, sing, sing!

Jemma returned her attention to her book, reading with a smile on her face. She was soon fully immersed in the story, and when her mother tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped.

Carolyn made the sign for “eat,” one of very few signs Jemma had learned years ago during her mother’s brief infatuation with American Sign Language. Jemma nodded. She got up, stretched, and followed her mother to the kitchen, retrieving plates from the cupboard and taking them to the toaster oven her mom preferred for tuna melts.

The timer’s “ding!” was even more jarring than usual. Jemma grabbed napkins while her mother put the food on plates. Jill came out from her room, saw the table already set, and sat. Once everyone had gotten positioned in their seats, Jemma took a bite, closing her eyes to enjoy the flavor. This wasn’t something that she ever actively craved, but there was something about the way her mother made them; nothing else quite hit the spot in the same way.

Jemma opened her eyes and saw her mom watching her, pleased, and her father watching Carolyn. Jemma smiled and looked at Jill, who was typing away at her phone again. After a silent laugh, Jemma decided to focus on her food. After she finished, she leaned back, comfortable.

Her neck and shoulders felt looser than usual. She didn’t feel stressed about being home, not that that was always her dominant emotion. Without the noise, the chatter, this place, being surrounded by her family, it could almost be actively relaxing. There was a light tap on the table, and Jemma looked toward her mother, who was holding up the whiteboard.

Have your other coworkers come in yet?

Jemma shook her head and took the board.

Just me. But that means I can adjust how I think is best. Kinda scary, kinda awesome
, she wrote. Carolyn beamed.
All I did was set new hours and borrow a tablet
, Jemma added, feeling her cheeks warm.

Carolyn reached for the board.
You’re running the place all by yourself, and you’re going above and beyond.
Matt looked at the board and then nodded in agreement, giving Jemma a thumbs up as he took his last bite. Jill, meanwhile, looked up, only halfway through her lunch, stared at the board, then at her mother and sister, raising an eyebrow. Jemma shook her head dismissively, and her sister shrugged, going back to her phone, eating with her left hand.

After everyone was finished eating, Jemma decided it was time for her to head home and familiarize herself with the app and get everything ready for work the next day. She wrote her goodbyes and got quick hugs from her father and sister, a lingering one from her mother.

Be safe
, her mother mouthed, and Jemma nodded, waving as she left for her car.

CHAPTER SIX:

A New Normal

There was one person already waiting outside the library when Jemma arrived the next morning, and she made a mental note to go back to using the employee entrance around back even though the main door was better lit. The patron, male, probably in his fifties, stayed for only about ten minutes before checking out a single book and leaving. Afterward, the library was silent until ten thirty. Overall, it was a much slower start to the morning than Jemma had expected after the busy Saturday.

Jemma made the best of her time, catching up on shelving and reports, some of which only needed to be done monthly. She checked to make sure none of the overdue books had been returned but not checked in properly, finding just one. She scanned that in, then emailed the patron to let him know to ignore the overdue notice he’d received, and she looked up when she heard the door open. She adjusted the tablet so that it was lying flat, on-screen keyboard ready, with the text-to-speech app turned on. Last night, she’d found an additional feature that allowed for the keyboard to change sides of the screen with the touch of a button, eliminating the need to spin the tablet or navigate to the screen orientation menu.

Jack came into sight, his hair cut short. Jemma smiled, and he waved, coming over to the circulation desk. He waggled his eyebrows at the tablet, then reached for it, watching her to make sure it was okay. She nodded, and he quickly typed into the document.

“Hey, you got a tablet,” announced LeVar Burton. Jack stopped to chuckle silently and continued typing. “Wow, it’s been so long since I heard my voice that I’d forgotten what I sounded like.”

Jemma flipped the keyboard to her side and responded.

“Yeah, not quite what I pictured. Soothing, though.”

“You didn’t think my voice would be soothing?” He held a hand to his chest as if injured. After a moment, he smirked and continued. “I’ve gotta admit, though, I didn’t expect your voice to be quite so deep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she typed. “Your hair changed so much I almost didn’t recognize you, and that was before hearing the new voice.”

He ran a hand over his head before typing again.

“Was getting in the way. Need my hands even more than before, couldn’t keep pushing it aside,” he replied.

“That’s logical. Anything I can help you with?”

He shook his head, then walked away, giving the Vulcan salute, smile still lingering. She waved, watching as he went up the stairs.

When he was out of her line of sight, she found herself thinking. He was a regular patron, at the library often enough that she knew his name and his general comings and goings. Yet, she had no idea what his voice had sounded like. Had he really not ever spoken? Judging by his friendly mannerisms this past week, she doubted that was the case. Instead, had she been that set against people talking, communicating aloud? If voices returned, would she be able to appreciate them better, or would it feel just as frequently jarring as it had before, as even the best electronic versions still did? Her mother’s voice, her father’s, she found herself missing those already, but she wasn’t sure whether the appreciation would continue when people were able to speak again. If people were able to speak again.

She was still frowning when she heard the library door open again. She ran a hand across her forehead, forcing herself to relax and to be ready to deal with the customers as they came.

***

The morning passed quickly, and her lunch break arrived. She decided not to make any present patrons leave. Instead, she set the door locks to allow people to exit but not enter. Only two others were in the building, Jack and another regular named Glenda. Jemma was about halfway through her sandwich - turkey and Monterey jack - when Glenda approached the circulation desk, wrinkling her nose at Jemma’s food.

Jemma swallowed her bite and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry about that,” she typed, ignoring Glenda’s raised eyebrows at the voice. “How may I help you?”

Glenda looked down at the tablet, then pointedly at Jemma’s hands, making a face again and crossing her arms.

“I didn’t get any food on it or anything. Can I help you with something?” she tried.

Glenda pulled out her phone and typed, turning the screen to face Jemma.
Can I talk to your supervisor? Where’s Cecily?

“I’m sorry,” relayed the tablet for Jemma, “but I don’t have a supervisor here for now. If you’d like to speak to someone higher up, Jessica is usually present at the downtown branch.”

Glenda typed again.
This is completely unprofessional.

“I’m sorry. The library is technically closed for my lunch break, but you looked comfortable reading, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Glenda snorted, or the closest she could manage since the voices had been lost, more a huff of air than anything, then turned and walked off, letting the door slam behind her.

Appetite dampened, Jemma remained facing the computer instead of turning back to her lunch. Why people insisted on acting that way completely baffled her. It hadn’t been as bad, not since she’d returned to work, but still, it really seemed pointless. Almost as pointless as it was to be upset about it, she supposed. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see Jack approaching.