Rebel in the Library of Ever

by Zeno Alexander

  Then a door burst open a few yards down another corridor, and a man rushed out, his arms full of books. He looked in both directions, then ran toward the intersection. He seemed quite out of breath, with a flushed face and drips of sweat running down his temples. And he had a badge that Lenora could make out as he came closer:

  PAOLO

  ASSISTANT TO THE ASSISTANT ANSWERER

  Lenora knew that this was a real librarian. She could tell with a glance, though she still didn’t know how. Perhaps it came with her promotion. At any rate, she quickly surmised that if Paolo was the Assistant to the Assistant Answerer, then he could tell her where the Assistant Answerer was, and that person could tell her where the Chief Answerer, Malachi, was. And so even though Paolo was about to run right past her, she put out a hand and cried “Wait!”

  Paolo stopped instantly, nearly dropping all his books, which were really too many for one person to try to carry at a run.

  Lenora could tell he was in a hurry (who couldn’t?), so she spoke quickly. “Where is the Assistant Answerer?”

  The man’s eyes widened in alarm. He looked up at the ceiling, then in all eight directions, before looking back at Lenora and, awkwardly, putting one finger to his lips. Lenora caught two of his books as they fell.

  Paolo pointed down one of the hallways, then reached for the books. Lenora handed them back silently. She wanted to offer to help him with whatever was wrong, but he had indicated silence, and so she said nothing. Once he had the books, he took off running in another direction.

  Lenora went down the hallway she’d been pointed toward. She walked past one door after another, until she reached one with a placard that read ASSISTANT ANSWERER. The door was closed. She raised one hand to knock, but before she could, a voice spoke from behind the door.

  “Come in, Lenora.”

  The voice was Malachi’s.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lenora Listens

  Lenora threw open the door. “Malachi!” she cried to the dark-skinned woman, before pausing to take in the scene.

  She had never seen the Chief Answerer’s office before (and wasn’t sure that Malachi had ever had or needed one in the past), but this did not seem at all like a place Malachi would choose to work. It was little different from the other small offices she’d seen, except that there were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering the walls, all groaning under the weight of hundreds of books. Lenora sighed with relief at the sight of the first proper bookshelves she’d seen since entering the Library.

  The desk was just the same as the desks she’d seen elsewhere, and so naturally it was far too small for the ten-foot-tall Chief Answerer. Her head, with its perfect bun held in place with two ever-so-sharp pencils, almost brushed the ceiling even though she was sitting in her little chair, her knees poking up higher than Lenora’s head. Down the length of her sharp nose she peered at Lenora, and if Lenora didn’t know better she’d think there might be a twitch of a smile at one end of her lips.

  “It is good to see you, Lenora,” she said primly. “And I see you’ve grown.”

  That was true. Lenora, always the shortest in her class, had undergone something of a growth spurt lately, and was now perhaps only the fifth- or sixth-shortest. But Malachi often said things that had more than one meaning, and Lenora suspected this was one of them.

  Then she saw it, and gasped. Malachi’s badge. It read, against all sense:

  MALACHI

  ASSISTANT ANSWERER

  “Assistant Answerer!” cried Lenora. “But—” And then she was instantly silenced by Malachi’s long finger going to her lips.

  The Chief—Assistant?—Answerer pointed slowly to all four corners of the ceiling, then pointed to her ears, then back. Lenora understood immediately what she’d begun to guess from Paolo.

  Someone was listening. And so Lenora must be very careful what she said.

  Malachi spoke in a rather flat tone unlike her usual speech. “It’s quite simple, Lenora. There is new leadership on the Board.”

  The Board! Lenora had heard that term right before she left the Library the first time. But she still had no idea what it was.

  “The Board determined that the Library needed to modernize,” Malachi continued. “Needed outside-the-box thinking and innovation. Synergy. Paradigms.”

  Again, Lenora had no idea what Malachi was talking about. But she suspected, strongly, that Malachi was simply speaking for whoever was listening and didn’t believe a word of it herself.

  “And they brought in a new Director to run the Library. He had, as we were told, a vision. A very great vision.”

  Malachi leaned into the word great with such force that Lenora almost took a step back.

  “And so there has been a reorganization. My duties have been … changed … in keeping with the vision. Many librarians, who were no longer a good”—and here Malachi paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath—“fit, were offered the opportunity to seek new jobs elsewhere. Away from the Library.”

  (I’ve been fired, Lenora remembered the weeping Aaliyah telling her earlier.)

  “New librarians have been hired as well.” Malachi looked at her intently. “Some of them you have met before.”

  Lenora understood, though she almost collapsed at the thought that the Forces of Darkness were working as “librarians” now.

  “But one must adapt, Lenora. There is still much work to be done. In fact, there is more to be done than ever before.”

  Lenora was not sure what she could say and what she couldn’t, so she asked tentatively, “What should I do, then?”

  “As it happens, you’ve shown up at exactly the right time. I have an extremely important task, and therefore you are precisely the right librarian to handle it.”

  Lenora’s heart swelled at the words, but she was worried she might let Malachi down. After all, she still did not fully understand what was going on.

  “I would like you to go to the Philosophy section as quickly as possible. There, you will find a girl, ten years of age. It is vital that you help her.”

  Then Malachi reached out her palm, revealing a familiar object—a metal fob the size of a domino, dangling from a necklace. A Tube key. Lenora took the necklace and with great solemnity put it over her head, leaving the key to dangle just next to her badge. Then Malachi opened a drawer and removed an object that Lenora knew quite well—her old notebook! She grasped it eagerly and flipped through, seeing that all her notes were still there. She dropped the notebook into one of the large pockets that she had begun insisting be included on all her dresses, along with a couple of sharp pencils from a box on the desk.

  While Lenora did this, Malachi wrote something on a piece of paper. (Her desk was neatly arranged with several stacks.)

  She held up the paper to Lenora. On it Lenora read:

  YOU MUST REMEMBER THREE THINGS. THE FIRST IS YOUR OATH.

  Lenora remembered. Do you swear to follow the librarian’s oath? Do you swear to work hard? Do you swear to venture forth bravely and find the answer to any question, no matter the challenge? Do you swear to find a path for those who are lost, and to improvise and think on your feet and rely on your wits and valor? And, do you swear to oppose the enemies of knowledge with all your courage and strength, wherever they might be found?

  She had given a solemn “I do” to every question, then done her very best to stay true to her promise.

  Next was this:

  THE SECOND THING—NEVER LIE TO HER, LENORA. NO MATTER HOW MUCH EASIER IT MIGHT MAKE THINGS IN THE TIMES AHEAD, ALWAYS TELL HER THE TRUTH.

  Lenora said nothing, but gave a firm nod, which Malachi returned just as firmly. Though Lenora did not know exactly who “her” was, it seemed very likely it was this mysterious girl in the Philosophy section.

  And finally:

  THIRD: HELP ZENODOTUS!

  Lenora had no idea who that was either, and though she wanted desperately to ask, she knew she could not.

  “Now go,” said Malachi.
“Make a left and head all the way to the end of this hallway. You’ll find a door that says DO NOT ENTER. Go through that and you’ll find a Tube station nearby.”

  Lenora nodded, and knowing there was, as usual, no time to waste, dashed out of the office and down the hallway at a dead run.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lenora Leans In

  Lenora was nearly out of breath, wondering if this hallway would go on forever, when she finally saw the door marked DO NOT ENTER at the end. And when she pushed through she knew she was back in the real Library at last.

  She was on a high balcony overlooking a long room that went farther into the distance than she could see. Its floor was divided into lanes of water, sort of like a swimming pool for racing, but the lanes were divided by solid floors in which massive metal gears were set. The gears churned slowly, for what purpose Lenora could not say. The lanes of water had gondolas moving along them. Most were empty, but a few were steered by librarians holding long paddles, and had books piled in them.

  To her left, she heard the familiar whooshing sounds coming from what could only be a Tube station. She turned and noticed something even stranger than this room. Where before there had been bookshelves, now all along the walls were computer monitors, dozens upon dozens of them. And all of them were showing the same thing—a pasty-faced yet handsome man in an expensive-looking suit and tie, a man with perfect salt-and-pepper hair who looked as though he might have stepped off a movie screen. He seemed to be giving a speech. Lenora listened.

  “… as you can see from the changes around you, I’ve been keeping my promises as Director. The Library is making money for the first time…”

  Making money? thought Lenora. Libraries didn’t exist to make money. And then a tremor went through her. The man’s voice …

  “… and patron fees for Library use have been lowered under my leadership…”

  Lenora recoiled. Patron fees? Patrons had never paid fees. Libraries were free! And she was beginning to remember where she had heard this voice before, talking about the Library making money …

  “… as we continue to trim down our excessive and expensive book collection…”

  And Lenora remembered.

  His voice.

  She’d heard him through a listening tube before, talking over Malachi and interrupting the Chief Answerer whenever she tried to speak:

  … The Library simply isn’t making money … (Lenora remembered well Malachi’s reply, that the value of libraries could not be counted in money) … run it like a business … get rid of the unprofitable books …

  Now Lenora knew who Malachi must have been speaking to. The Director. The man on the monitors.

  She shook herself, realizing that she had no time for this mystery quite yet. She had to get to the Philosophy section as quickly as possible. So off she flew in the direction of the whooshing Tube station.

  As she ran, she heard snatches of conversation from various patrons, to her dismay:

  “The Library is changing, but he says he’s making it better…”

  “Making money is good, isn’t it? But I do wonder how people will pay their fees…”

  “He seems to know what he’s doing, though it is a bit harder to find books these days…”

  But then she reached the Tube station, and her heart leapt at the sight of the old familiar tubes, wonderful as could be—giant, rugged glass cylinders, bound in rings of sturdy copper, capsules within them shooting past, whisking librarians to their destinations all through the vast Library.

  The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Something was wrong. Lenora looked around. There was one other librarian waiting for a tube. A tall, tall man in a heavy black overcoat that went down over his shoes, whose head was slowing turning toward Lenora. In one hand he held a basketful of books and in the other a box of matches.

  This was not a librarian. She could somehow simply sense it, the prickly feeling no accident. The man was now staring straight at her, and something slithered up the side of his leg, under his coat. Lenora headed straight for a tube on the other side of the station, head high and chin up, ignoring him completely. When a capsule arrived, she hopped up the steps and began to climb in. Just then, the man called out to her.

  “We’ve won, you know. It’s over.”

  A chill went through Lenora, but she neither paused nor responded. Relief washed over her as she settled into the usual single, reclining seat, with its lovely cracked leather upholstery, and the door to the capsule closed firmly. Lenora considered the capsule’s interior. There were thousands of slots all around her, each labeled with the name of a destination in the Library. She scanned them for the one that said Philosophy. She was disturbed to see that a large number of the slots, which normally all had brightly lit labels, had gone dark, and she resolved to look into that mystery as well, as soon as she could. At last she located Philosophy, thankful to see it was still lit, and plunged her key in straightaway.

  The capsule shooshed off, the force pushing Lenora back into her seat.

  The trip seemed to take longer than normal. Lenora wondered if something was Terribly Wrong with the tubes, too. And the entire journey took place in darkness. Normally Lenora was able to see new bits of the Library as she sped along (she still meant to visit that ice cave from last time whenever she could), but this time she couldn’t see anything outside the glass besides pitch darkness.

  However, the tube eventually slowed, her chair swiveling around in the other direction as she was again pushed back in her seat. The capsule came into the station, and light returned. The door slid open and Lenora exited to find, with much relief, that it had delivered her to the correct place: a massive stone arch with the word PHILOSOPHY carved above. In she went.

  As soon as she entered, an elderly woman hobbled rapidly over, moving with surprising speed for someone who used a cane. “Oh my, at last!” she said. “A librarian! I’ve been searching and searching for one. Can you help me, please?”

  Lenora was torn. On the one hand, she had to find that girl. On the other, she had vowed to help all those with questions. Hoping this was an easy one, she replied, “Yes, of course. How may I help you?”

  “Oh, thank you,” the woman said with a tremendous sigh of relief. “You see, several of my friends and I have pooled our money and bought an island. We plan to set up our own society there, but we don’t quite know how to go about it. I’m looking for a copy of Plato’s Republic.”

  “For ideas on how to set up a just, happy society,” said Lenora. “Of course.” With confidence (for this was an easy one), she led the woman down the correct row (she’d spent enough time in one library or another at this point that she could find most books with ease). But there was something strange about the shelves. Instead of books by and about people like Socrates, Rousseau, Al-Farabi, Confucius, Arendt, Leibniz, and Hildegard of Bingen, there were books by only one person.

  The Director.

  His face glowed out from every cover, with a smile that seemed just a bit too huge. There were dozens of different titles, so many that Lenora had serious doubts he had really written all of them. They had titles that had nothing to do with philosophy, like How to Get Incredibly Rich and How to Make Unbelievable Amounts of Money (Lenora wondered what was missing from the first book if he still had to write the second). She and the elderly lady walked past How to Be the Best at Everything and How to Be Smarter than Everyone Except Me and Why I Am the Greatest.

  Plato’s Republic was nowhere to be found.

  Crestfallen, Lenora turned to the woman. “I’m sorry,” she said, her heart breaking. “We don’t seem to have a copy.” She could not describe how very awful she felt at that moment.

  The woman’s face fell. “Oh,” she said. “Well, thank you for trying, dear. I suppose we’ll just have to make do.” And with that, she hobbled off.

  Lenora nearly burst into tears. But she managed to hold them in, because she had to find that girl. And, turning around, she did.

/>   A pasty-faced girl who appeared to be ten years of age was walking along the stacks farther down. She was dressed in the oddest way, with a multicolored scarf around her neck, a pink shirt covered in sparkles, and green pants that had been stitched with flowers. On her feet she wore enormous velvet platform shoes that made her, annoyingly, almost as tall as Lenora. Lenora hurried toward her. As she did, she could see the girl had a smile on her face as she looked at one book after the next.

  Catching up at last, Lenora said, rather breathlessly, “Hello. How may I help you?”

  The girl turned to her, beaming. “Oh, I don’t need any help.”

  “You don’t?” said Lenora in surprise. Did she have the wrong girl?

  “No,” said the girl. “I’m just admiring the books.”

  “Admiring them? Why?”

  “Because,” said the girl brightly, “my daddy wrote them all!”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lenora Counts

  “Your father is the Director?” Lenora gasped.

  “Yep!” announced the girl with obvious pride.

  “I see,” said Lenora. She didn’t want to say anything about her opinion of the Director to this girl, who seemed so happy and proud, so instead she said, “Are you sure you don’t need any help? The Chief—I mean, the Assistant Answerer told me you did.”

  “Nope,” said the girl. “Although … I suppose I’m a little bored. There’s not much to do around here.”

  Not much to do in the Library?!? thought Lenora. Then again, since so many books had been replaced by screens showing the Director giving speeches, the girl might be right. And Malachi had told her to help the girl, so perhaps giving her something interesting to do was exactly what the Chief … rather, Assistant Answerer meant.