“Its an interesting debate though?” continued Penn.
“Absolutely,” agreed Vickers. “From stone tablets at Sumer, to early collections in Ancient Egypt and Nineveh, to the great libraries of Alexandria and others. The drive was often to organise and collate, but when does cataloguing start to become focussed? Controlled? Limiting?”
There was another pause. Yas and Sam looked at each other.
“Early libraries,” whispered Yas to Sam.
“Yes,” replied Sam. “Do you think these could be...?”
“You and I are not that different, Ms. Vickers,” said Penn.
“How so?” Vickers replied.
“We both want what’s best for knowledge...”
Yas and Sam were interrupted by a rustle behind them, further along the aisle. They turned around and were both startled to see a young man making his way awkwardly along. Penn and Vickers conversation continued, but Yas and Sam were no longer paying attention to what was being said.
“Wesley?” whispered Yas, as loudly as she dared. He displayed the same awkwardness that she had seen before, but he also looked exhausted.
“You know him?” asked Sam.
“He was in the shop on Saturday,” she whispered in reply. “With Penn. Or at least, minded by him.”
“What do you mean, minded?” Sam replied.
“Penn said he was his charge,” Yas said. She walked over to Wesley, trying to meet his eyes.
“His charge?” repeated Sam, incredulously. “What does that even mean?”
Wesley was too interested in the books on the shelves to acknowledge Yas. He reached down to pick one up, then opened it and nodded. “Hmm. Good? Not good?”
Yas immediately felt full of sympathy for him. She didn’t know what had happened since Saturday but was appalled to see him acting this way.
“Wesley,” she whispered again, grabbing him gently on the arm. “What do you have there?” She found herself talking to him as she would a small child.
Wesley turned and faced Yas, then looked down at the book in earnest again.
“Good? Yes?”
“Yes. Urban fantasy,” she replied. “Good.”
Wesley looked at the book again then closed it and replaced it on the shelf.
“Not good,” he said and reached for another.
“Who’s telling you its not good?” Yas asked desperately. It was as if a coping pattern had formed as a result of ongoing conditioning, but it had only been two days since she saw him last.
“Good?” he asked her. She looked at him, desperately wanting to help.
“Not good,” he said again and put the book back on the shelf. He made to reach for another.
“Wesley, its me,” Yas said, grabbing his hand with hers. “Yas. From the bookstore.”
He looked at his hand, puzzled. Then he looked at her face. There was a slight change in his demeanour. Yas noticed it.
“Upstairs,” he said, with a slight smirk on his face. “I heard you.” He looked from Yas to Sam and then back again. “You want to go to places.”
“Sorry?” asked Yas.
Sam seemed to understand. “I think he heard us talking upstairs,” he added.
“Oh,” replied Yas. She wondered how much he had heard.
“We were just talking,” she replied, to try to downplay it. “Sam’s my friend,” she added as breezily as she could.
“Libraries,” Wesley said softly. “Alexandria has answers.”
“Alexandria?” asked Yas, shocked. “How do you know?”
“He said so.” Wesley pointed along the end of the aisle.
“He?” asked Yas.
“Yes,” replied Wesley. “Sending others.”
“Who?” asked Yas. “For what?”
“Answers,” Wesley looked down at his hand and then took it away from Yas’s and reached forwards for another book. Whatever had changed within him had gone. He repeated the same pattern he had before.
“Good? Yes?”
Yas looked sadly at Wesley, smiling and nodding. “Thank you.”
“Not good,” and he replaced the book on the shelf.
He nodded awkwardly in her direction while looking at the floor and moved away, back the way he had come and around the corner into another aisle.
Yas and Sam moved back to the opposite end of the aisle and returned their attention to the conversation between Penn and Vickers.
“Exactly,” replied Penn. “I do so enjoy debating important topics with the informed. Will you do me the honour of being my personal guest on Wednesday?”
“I’ll think about it,” said Vickers, being non-committal.
“Good, good,” soothed Penn. “I’ll have a car sent for you then. Shall we say seven o’clock?”
He turned, looking around him, not waiting for an answer.
“I’ll make my own way,” countered Vickers. “If I decide to come.”
“Wesley,” Penn called. There was a familiar thump from an aisle or two away as Wesley dropped a book in surprise, followed by rushed and clumsy footsteps.
“I hope you didn’t cause any trouble?” they heard Penn say as he started moving away from them.
“No,” replied Wesley.
They made their way towards the exit.
“Alexandria?” Sam said to Yas quietly.
“It’s a clue?”
“Or a trap,” countered Sam. “You heard what he said. Something’s happening there.”
They then heard Vickers talking to herself.
“Now’s the time,” suggested Sam.
Yas wasn’t sure. “What do we say?”
“Let’s follow up on the clue.” He moved forwards and tugged on her sleeve. “Come on.”
He appeared at the end of the aisle in direct line of sight of Vickers.
“There you are,” she said curtly, her tone very different from that of the conversation they overheard previously. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”
“We need to talk with you,” said Sam. “About Alexandria,” he added before she could say anything more.
Vickers looked at him, then at Yas and then down into the cup she had picked up in her hand.
“Well, it will have to wait,” she said. “I’m late for my break as it is.”
“Your break?” countered Sam. “This is important!”
Vickers held her other hand up to her forehead and sighed. Then she looked at Sam.
“Is someone injured or sick?” She made the point of looking around the entrance hall.
“No, but,” said Sam, trying to interrupt.
“Then its not getting between me and my next cup of coffee!” She walked off in the direction of the staff room.
Sam looked at Yas, raising his hands to indicate that he was at a loss of how to get her attention.
“What do we do now?” asked Yas.
“I’m not sure,” replied Sam, looking a little defeated. “I’ll go and try again. She’ll probably just give me a hard time for leaving the desk unmanned though.”
“Its worth a try,” agreed Yas. “I’ll go and do some research.”
“Good idea.”
She turned and headed back to the stairs.
Halfway across town, in a multi-storey parking lot sat a large black SUV. The driver was visible, wearing shades even though the position of the car meant that he was not in direct sunlight. Suited, much like a nightclub bouncer, he regarded the man approaching with very little interest. His only gesture was to thumb to the man to indicate that he should get in the right-hand side. Clearly, someone else was already in the back, invisible through the privacy glass.
The man, wearing a raincoat with a suit underneath, carried a briefcase. He opened the right rear door and climbed in. The driver started the engine and the SUV moved off.
“It is done,” he said to the man sitting beside him.
“Good, Detective Wheeler. Good,” replied the other man. He was thin, rakish, and had a sinister look. There was darkness
there. It was unnerving.
“I trust it went according to plan.” The SUV moved down one level of the parking lot.
“Yes,” replied Wheeler. “There was a girl too,” he added. In retrospect, he wasn’t sure why he said that.
“A girl?” questioned the rakish man. He searched Wheeler’s eyes for a moment. “You say it as if it might...” the man paused for a moment to choose his words deliberately, “...complicate matters?”
“No. I just don’t want any comebacks. The job is done, now you release my son.” The SUV went down another level. The driver cruised along the rows of parked cars looking for a new place to park.
“Yes,” replied the rakish man. He pulled out his phone, tapped long fingernails on the screen, opened a photograph and showed it to Wheeler. “Was this the girl?”
“Yes,” replied Wheeler, looking confused. “I don’t understand. Where is my son?”
“He’s safe, and in disguise,” said the rakish man cruelly. “It seems he’s taken a shine to this young lady and we need his services a while longer.”
“What have you done with him, Orfeo?” asked Wheeler, angrily. He was starting to feel out of his depth. This was supposed to be a one job deal and then he was done. One job, one payment. This was getting messy.
The driver turned the SUV into a new parking space.
“Let’s just say we need his services.”
“No,” shouted Wheeler. “What the hell are you playing at? You took my son! You don’t trust me? I did what you asked, now fulfill your end of the bargain! I’ll have the full force of the law on you if you don’t!”
The SUV came to a stop and the engine went silent.
Orfeo laughed, brushing it off. “And how will you explain away the significant sum of money you have been paid recently? Come now Mr. Wheeler, we both know that its an empty threat.” He licked his lips for a moment. “He will come to no harm if you do what we ask.”
Wheeler paused for a moment. “And what’s your great leader have in mind now?” he countered. “My end of the bargain was done.” He made to reach for the door handle to get out.
Orfeo grabbed hold of Wheeler’s wrist and prevented him from leaving. Wheeler looked at him with a mixture of shock and trepidation.
“You should not question our leadership,” Orfeo said severely. “Don’t push us Mr. Wheeler. It may take you to places where you do not get to see your son again.”
“No...” replied Wheeler, wanting the grip on his wrist to end. For a thin man, he seemed to possess an inhuman strength, crushing his wrist through both his raincoat and suit sleeve. “I just want my son back, that’s all. This wasn’t part of the agreement.”
The grip on his wrist was released. Wheeler continued to look directly at Orfeo’s eyes. They relaxed a little. Wheeler felt a bead of sweat making its presence known on his forehead.
“Agreements change all the time, Mr. Wheeler,” Orfeo continued. “You should be more adaptable. Anyway, what’s the rush? Surely you can negotiate more time on your gambling debts?”
The two men sat watching each others’ expression for a moment. Wheeler realised that Orfeo knew more about him than he had thought. He had little choice but to play along, for now.
“I hope that this does not change your mind about...” again Orfeo paused, selecting the right word carefully, “...working with us.”
“I just don’t like unwarranted attention,” replied Wheeler trying to retain some authority in the situation.
“Then we are on common ground.” He looked down at his phone again, swiping from the photograph to messages. Wheeler chanced a look down but couldn’t make out anything specific.
“We need your troops to mobilise to Alexandria,” said Orfeo, matter-of-factly.
“What for?” Wheeler asked.
“Your next task.”
“Fine,” Wheeler grumbled.
“We need you to question someone.”
“Who?” challenged Wheeler. He was annoyed and unaware he was treading on thin ice.
“If this is no longer acceptable, I can merely have your son dropped off...”
The two men’s eyes met. Orfeo belied no emotion in his voice.
“...in the nearest river,” he added.
“No!” Wheeler replied. “I’ll do it.” He gave in. “Who is it and where are they?”
“Rumour has it that there is still a keeper of the library in Alexandria.”
“You want me to go and find a librarian?”
“Of sorts.”
“What have they done?”
“Exactly. We need to know what they know.”
“About what?” Wheeler countered. He was letting irritation get the better of him.
“We just need to know what they know. Shouldn’t be too hard for someone who does this for a living, don’t you think?”
“Find the librarian and find out what they know,” confirmed Wheeler, reluctantly.
“Precisely,” replied Orfeo. “Oh, and Mr. Sleight will accompany you.”
“That blundering oaf?”
“Yes. Let’s just say that this matter has the attention of our leader.”
“I don’t need a chaperone. He’ll risk the mission.”
“See that he doesn’t.”
“Fine,” grumbled Wheeler. “Then I want my son back. No more delays?”
“Agreed,” replied Orfeo, smiling. He looked away. “I will contact you shortly.”
Wheeler opened the door, got out and slammed it behind him.
“I don’t need this crap!” he said to himself.
He walked away from the vehicle and along between parked cars as a safety measure. Orfeo’s word had come to nothing. He could no longer trust him and felt as though he no longer had the situation under control. He had to re-consider his options.
Sam caught up with Yas a little later. She was sitting on a chair by the large windows with several books around her.
“No luck with Vickers, I’m afraid,” he said.
“Oh,” replied Yas, looking up at him. “What did she say?”
“I tried to tell her about McVale’s disappearance. She wasn’t interested.”
“What do you mean?”
“She just said ‘better her than your friend.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She wouldn’t say. She just warned me not to go looking for my dad. Like I’m going to listen to her!”
“So, what do you want to do?”
“We need to find a doorway.”
He sat down beside her and looked across at the book she had open on her lap. “Any luck?”
“There’s so much I didn’t know about early libraries,” she started. She bent over to pick up one book and showed Sam the page that was open.
“It makes sense. Early libraries were initially recordings of trading transactions. “But then,” she paused, pointing to a picture on the page, “libraries started to provide a place where scholars could store and share their knowledge.” She put that book down and picked up another, page open, and handed it to him.
He looked down at it and read some of the text. “There were a number of ancient libraries, but Alexandria was the one that was perhaps the greatest. It became known as the capital for knowledge and learning.”
“My grandpa’s book mentions it also,” she said, picking it up from the chair and turning it to show to Sam.
“Ow!” said Sam and Yas at the same moment.
They each reached for their pendants.
Sam pulled his out of his T-shirt quickly and let go. “Its hot!”
“Of course,” said Yas, leaning forwards to prevent the hot pendant touching her. “McVale told me that the pendants would grow warmer when they are close to a door. We must be.” She looked at him expectedly.
“Did it do that before?” he asked. “When you were researching?”
“No.” Yas sat herself back on the seat. “Let me try on my own.”
“Okay.” Sam took a few
steps away from her. Yas held the pendant over the book open on her lap. “Nothing,” she said, guessing that it needed the two of them.
“So, what if my pendant is closer?” suggested Sam, clearly thinking the same.
“Let’s try,” agreed Yas, standing up. As they moved together, the pendants became hot against their skin, and there was a ‘whoomph’ in the air in front of them. A doorway appeared with a fizzing, popping, yellow surround. The light inside the doorway seemed intense, bright, and very yellow. It was exactly like Yas would have imagined a desert city to be.
“Alexandria!” they both exclaimed. Then Yas looked around her, cautiously.
“Can anyone else see it?” she said quietly to Sam.
Sam looked around. While they were in a visible area on the second floor, the lateness of the afternoon and being a Monday worked in their favour. There was no one else there.
“I think we’re good,” said Sam. “What now?”
“We put the book down...” said Yas, stepping forwards and putting the book down on the chair. “We leave it open,” she added, more to herself as a reminder. “Then we go through.”
“So, its as if both pendants were the key?” Sam asked, looking at her with excitement.
“Yes,” agreed Yas. “The museum symbols?”
“I guess so,” replied Sam. Yas could see he was excited.
“Shall we?” he suggested, holding out his right hand, for her to grasp.
“Yes,” she agreed, reaching out her hand to his, then pulled back in doubt.
“What about what Wesley said? Sending others? Could this be dangerous?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Sam suggested. “Besides, if there’s any danger, we’ll come straight back? Agreed?”
“Right,” agreed Yas. She was a little uncertain, but this was better than sitting back at the shop, waiting and wondering. She grabbed his hand and they stepped through the doorway together.
Chapter 5
Ancient Alexandria
The scene around Yas and Sam became intensely bright. The sky was a perfect blue, the sun shone down on them from directly above, and the air was warm and dry. They had stepped into a square enclosed by stone buildings.
The Word Guardians: and the Battle for the Peacekeepers Page 10
