Rebel in the Library of Ever

by Zeno Alexander

  “Yes,” replied Zenodotus. “Yes. I think I can.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lenora Loses

  “Good!” said Lenora to Zenodotus, who was still staring at the faint glow coming from his hands. “You can come with us, and we’ll get Malachi, too, and then we’ll take down the Director and the Board—” She stopped at the distraught look on Ada’s face.

  “You wouldn’t hurt Daddy, would you?” Ada said, tearing up. “I know he’s—made some mistakes, but … he means well. I think.”

  Lenora softened. “Of course not,” she said. “We aren’t going to hurt anyone. But we must take back the Library, Ada. You know this. And we cannot do this with your father giving the orders.”

  The girl nodded, wiping her arm across her eyes.

  “Well?” said Lenora to Zenodotus, whose tears had dried up. “Let’s go!”

  To her surprise, the ancient librarian sat down heavily in his chair, the faintest smile on his face. “Oh, Lenora. I’m afraid I cannot. For many reasons.”

  “But why? Your light has returned! And you said you would help us.”

  Zenodotus nodded. “And I will. But Lenora, you must understand—you are much stronger than me. And though you have given me much, it is your time to defeat the Forces. Even if I had your full strength, which would be extraordinary, I would be doing the Library a disservice by stepping in your way. You represent the future, Lenora. You must now learn to lead the battle on your own. If you do not, there is no future for the Library.”

  “Then how are you going to help us?” cried Lenora in desperation. “I can’t defeat the Forces on my own!” She did not see how she could possibly do this, when even Malachi could not.

  Zenodotus leaned back in his chair, put his fingers to his temples, and closed his eyes. “What do you mean, alone? What about the army you have assembled?”

  “Army?” said Lenora, puzzled. “I don’t have any army.”

  Zenodotus looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean? They are gathered in Googology, waiting for you.”

  “Lenora’s rebel base!” said Ada.

  “Yes, Lenora,” said Zenodotus. “You seem unaware of the success of your efforts to guide librarians to safety. Word of your—rebel base, as Ada says—spread rapidly from one librarian to the next. The ones who remain are all there now.”

  “So they can defeat the Forces?” Lenora asked.

  Zenodotus shook his head. “No,” he said. “They are still greatly outnumbered. And the Director still holds thrall over the Library’s patrons.”

  Ada made a strangled cry at these words.

  “I am sorry,” said Zenodotus to Ada. “But even as the Library is coming apart, many patrons believe it is not only improving, but becoming stronger. Your father is telling them this. As long as they still listen, he is in control.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” said Ada desperately. “He’ll listen once I’ve explained everything.”

  Lenora gave a weary sigh. “Is there anything else you can do to help?” she asked Zenodotus.

  Zenodotus nodded. “Yes.” He reached behind his neck and loosened a small chain, and then drew from within his robe an object that was clearly a Tube key—but this one had an air of great age, and strange runes were carved all over it. “This is my Tube key. I have not used it in many years. You can have it. It is a key like no other. You will find that it will take you anywhere in the Library you want to go. You are no longer limited by section. Which is well, as the lights are going out all over the Library, section by section. There is a tube right outside those doors. It has not been used in a long time, but I expect it will still operate. They were built well.”

  Lenora accepted the key with great reverence, feeling it tingle in her palm. “Thank you,” she said. “But what are you going to do? You really ought to contribute to the fight somehow. You can’t just sit here. Also, you need to move those papers away from those candles unless you want to burn the place down.”

  Zenodotus chuckled and slid the stacks around to wiser positions. “Yes. I have decided exactly what I will do. The best way for me to contribute to the fight against lies, fear, and hate is to tell your story.”

  “My story?” asked Lenora. She had not realized she had a story. But looking back, she supposed she did.

  “Yes. It has been centuries since I put quill to parchment. But you have inspired many here, Lenora. It is my hope you will now inspire others.” He took a deep breath. “Next, I must decide on a pseudonym. None in the world beyond will believe that Zenodotus, first librarian of Alexandria, still lives.”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” said Lenora encouragingly. “But now—I think we really must get moving. Can you let us out?”

  “Of course.” Zenodotus stood and proceeded to the padlocked doors, the girls following.

  “Do you think he’ll put me in the story?” whispered Ada to Lenora.

  Lenora smiled. “Of course. You’re an important part of it, after all.”

  The girl beamed in pleasure, though Lenora could still see deep sadness in her eyes.

  They came to the doors. Zenodotus produced a very large and old key from within his robes and opened the padlocks. The big wooden doors swung open, protesting all this with an enormous creaking.

  The corridor beyond was dark, and smelled damp and musty in a way that told one the place had not been entered in a long time. But at a great distance down the corridor, Lenora could see the glint of light on copper. A tube.

  Zenodotus turned to the girls with a smile. “Thank you, Lenora. And thank you, too, Ada. You are right. I need to get this place cleaned up. Now, off you go. The Library needs you.”

  Lenora and Ada nodded. There seemed little more to say, and so Lenora made her way cautiously down the long corridor, wary of running into anything. Ada crept along beside her. Behind them, the doors closed with a creaking crash, and Lenora could hear the sound of padlocks locking.

  Then Lenora groaned. She had completely forgotten to ask Zenodotus what had really happened to the Library of Alexandria. Oh, well. Another time …

  Onward they went.

  They walked for a long time. Somehow it seemed they were never getting any closer to that glint on copper. But at last, Lenora could see they were drawing near. And then—

  Goose bumps on her arms.

  Blinding lights all around.

  A terrible crashing.

  A hard shove from behind, propelling Lenora forward with a stumble.

  And she thought, her eyes closed tight against the glare:

  Something fell.

  Ada was screaming. “Lenora! Help!”

  Lenora whipped around, blinking, trying to see.

  Metal bars had crashed down, separating her and Ada. And beside the girl were two of the Forces, the man in the green raincoat and the woman in the red, grinning sharp-toothed grins and gripping Ada by the arms as she struggled and kicked. Lenora realized that they’d have had her, too, if not for Ada’s shove. And as she realized that, she also realized that panic was surging through her and her feet felt rooted to the floor, just as had happened when she first met the woman in the red raincoat.

  “Lucky you had your friend here to save you,” the woman said to Lenora, “but you will have her assistance no longer.”

  “We’ll be back for you,” said the man.

  With three popping sounds, they vanished.

  Her fear evaporating just as quickly as it had come, Lenora threw herself against the bars, reaching for where her friend had been only moments before. “Ada!” she screamed. “No!”

  But she was gone.

  Lenora was alone.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lenora Wins

  She raced to the tube and threw open the door.

  She had to rescue Ada. Zenodotus had said his key would take her wherever she wanted, and she wanted Ada. And so there was, of course, a label blinking ADA with a slot below it.

  Lenora fumbled for the key,
then thrust it forward.

  And stopped, inches away from plunging the key into the slot.

  Something felt wrong. Lenora thought hard. She did not know where the Forces had taken Ada. She did not know how many of them were there, or what traps might await her. Though she longed desperately to hurry to the rescue, it would be terribly stupid to rush in without knowing what she was up against.

  She slumped back in the seat, desperate. Ada’s cries for help still echoed in Lenora’s mind. Should she go back and ask Zenodotus? No, there wasn’t time, and the corridor was blocked anyway. The Forces had said they were coming back for her. She had to get out of there.

  And then she had it. She knew where she wanted to go. And so, naturally, the ADA label changed:

  THE DIRECTOR.

  Lenora thrust the key home, and shot off into the darkness.

  When she got to the Director’s office, she was ready. The moment the door opened, she bolted from the tube and straight up the golden staircase, right past a startled member of the Forces, who made a grab for her but lost his balance and tumbled down the steps as Lenora thought, They’ve got to start protecting this place better, and then she was in the office of the Director, surrounded by Forces, all closing in on her.

  And just as they were about to snatch her, she yelled, “Princess has been kidnapped!”

  The Director, who had been smiling giddily and polishing his platinum DIRECTOR badge while he watched one of his own speeches on the transmission console, instantly went grim. “What?” he said, looking straight at Lenora. “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing, sir!” said a member of the Forces, this one having the appearance of a teenage girl who had hold of Lenora’s right arm. “This girl is crazy.”

  “She’s lying,” said a man who had Lenora’s left wrist. “You know how females are.”

  “Then where is she?” shouted Lenora. “Where’s Princess?”

  The Director stood, his voice booming. “Let go of her! Now!”

  With great reluctance, one by one, the Forces released Lenora, glaring as she glared back.

  “Now,” said the Director with great authority. “Where is my daughter?”

  “I saw her just now, playing with the dinosaurs,” said a woman. “She’s fine. Very happy.”

  The Director paused. Lenora could see he was becoming confused. “Why don’t you ask them to get her, then?” Lenora asked. “She can go back to the dinosaurs when she’s done.”

  “She’s very happy,” said the woman soothingly. “Why would we interrupt your precious Princess over this disrespectful, loud little girl?”

  Lenora saw the Director hesitating, unsure. “Princess hasn’t seen you in a while,” she said carefully. “That poor girl … imagine how hard it must be to be away from a father as wonderful as you.”

  The man behind Lenora hissed. She did not flinch.

  “Of course!” said the Director, straightening. “She must miss me terribly! Go fetch my Princess at once!”

  None of the Forces moved. Instead, they all looked at one another. And Lenora saw things begin to slither under their clothes.

  “Did you hear me?” shouted the Director, coming around his desk to the front of the dais. “I order you to bring me Princess!”

  The Forces faced the Director. “We can’t do that,” one of them said. The usual tone of fake respect was fading. “The presence of your daughter … distracts you. Interferes with your judgment. Causes you to forget the Plan.”

  The Director’s fists began to shake. His face turned red, then purple. The veins in his neck and forehead bulged. Lenora had seen this before, and knew he was about to fly into a rage at such disobedience.

  And she knew exactly what to do.

  The attention of the Forces was entirely on the Director. And so she slipped away, then sidled along the wall until she came to the Transmission Console. And flipped a switch from OFF to LIVE.

  Unbeknownst to anyone but Lenora, the scene was now broadcasting to the entire Library.

  “I am the Director!” the Director shrieked at the Forces. “Do you know how many companies I’ve run? Do you know how much money I make? You work for me, and you do what I say!”

  The man facing him continued calmly, “This girl is destroying the Plan—”

  “Don’t you tell me about the Plan!” screeched the Director. From the color on his face to his bulging veins, Lenora was worried that he might explode. “The Plan was my idea!”

  “Was it?” mused the man. “I seem to recall visiting you and telling you that we could make you the biggest, most important, most famous librarian of all time. You were quite pleased at the notion.”

  Lenora did not think it possible to screech at a pitch any higher than the one he already had, but the Director found a way. “I don’t need you idiots! I’m the smartest genius in the world. I could do this all by myself. You’re fired! You’re all fired! Now where is my daughter?”

  “We took her to the Board. They can protect her.”

  “I can protect her better than anyone! Bring her to me!”

  “No,” said the man, quite simply.

  And that was when something inside the Director broke loose. With incoherent screeching, he turned to the nearest portrait of himself, tore it from the wall, and hurled it at the man, who easily ducked under it.

  The Director stalked around the room, ripping each portrait from the wall and throwing them at the Forces. His rage grew ever wilder as they easily dodged these attacks.

  “I am the Director!” he continued to screech. “I’m the smartest! You’re all idiots! Everyone is an idiot! Everyone except me!”

  At last, the final portrait was hurled. The Director, panting and purple, looked around for something else to destroy, then slumped against the wall, exhausted.

  “I’m the Director,” he croaked.

  “You see,” said the man, “this is why you have us. We need you to appear to everyone as the tough, confident leader of the Library. And you need us to protect you from being seen like … this. You are fortunate such outbursts are kept hidden.”

  “No,” said Lenora. All heads turned to her, only now noticing her next to the transmission console. She gestured to the panel. “Everyone has seen it. Everyone in the Library. All the Library’s patrons. You put those monitors everywhere, because you wanted everyone to see all of your lies. But now they have seen the truth.”

  The face of every one of the Forces went ashen. “No,” a man said. “The Board … they’ll—”

  As one, all of them opened their mouths to scream. And then each of them was—Lenora was not able to describe it quite like anything else—pulled from the room, as though pulled through keyholes. Like the opposite of a balloon popping, she’d later say. Only the beginning of their screams was left.

  “Help me,” choked a voice from behind her.

  She turned to see the Director on his knees, his face white, his hands clasped, imploring. “Help me,” he said again to Lenora. “You have to help me get Princess back. I’m the Director … I’m the Director…”

  “Not anymore,” Lenora said, pointing to his chest. His glittering platinum DIRECTOR badge was gone. “You’re fired.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Lenora Flies Again

  The Not-Director gaped helplessly. “I can’t … they can’t … you can’t … I order you to … to…”

  Lenora drew back in disgust. It was hard for her to believe that she had ever thought this man would have the authority to force Ada’s return. But now she knew where Ada was, and what she would have to do.

  “Did you hear me?” rasped the Not-Director. “I order you to—”

  “You’re not ordering me to do anything,” said Lenora. “I’m going to face the Board and save Ada—you’re not calling her Princess anymore—because she’s my friend. And I’m going to restore the Library. And I’m not going to do it alone.”

  She cleared her throat, then spoke to the transmission console. “
Message to Googology. This is Lenora. Everyone—the Director has been fired. It’s time for us to bring the fight to the Forces of Darkness. While I’m dealing with the Board, I need the rest of you to start putting books back on the shelves.” And then, hoping against hope that she was right, she continued, “We’re going to win today, and the Forces will not soon forget it.” She had no idea what she would find when she met the Board, but she had learned early on that it was important to project confidence in the face of fear. And though she was indeed afraid, she knew she had no choice but to find a way to win. She reached behind the machine and pulled the plug because, after all, it would no longer be needed when the monitors were gone and the books and everything else in the Library were returned to their proper places.

  She turned to leave, and to her surprise, the Not-Director was gathering himself. He was back on his feet with a savage expression on his face, straightening his tie. He seemed to have forgotten Lenora was there. “Can’t fire me,” he was muttering to himself. “I’m the Director. I’m the best, smartest librarian. I’ll tell the Board a thing or two about those disloyal employees they gave me. Tell ’em they’d better remember who’s in charge, or they’re all fired! All of them!”

  Lenora sighed and strode through the doors and down the steps. To her annoyance, she found the Not-Director was following her. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  The Not-Director, who obviously still considered himself to be in charge, stuck his finger in Lenora’s face. “You’re taking me to the Board.”

  Lenora did not have time to argue. She turned to the open tube. “Fine. Squeeze yourself in behind the chair and get ready for a rough ride.”

  “I am taking the chair,” said the Director. “You sit in back. You work for me.”

  Lenora looked at him. “Do you know how to operate the tubes?”

  He looked at Lenora.

  She looked at him.

  They looked at each other.