by C. A. Pack
Mal gazed at the sleeping tot. “No wonder overseers are banned from having families. Not only could their children be traumatized by the ever-changing properties of the various libraries, but overseers—as parents—could lose focus of their duties as deans when distracted by their children.”
Pru Tellerence subtly redirected the conversation. ★You’ve no children of your own, Mal?
“No. I’ve never had the pleasure.” His memories carried him back to another place and time and he sighed. “But it almost happened. I did meet someone special a few centuries ago. Unfortunately, she lost her life in a fire.”
★What a terrible way to die.
He nodded. “She was the love of my life.”
★I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.
“It was long ago.”
★What was her name?
“Elizabeth.”
★And no one else has ever come close to capturing your heart?
“No. She was the one.” He smiled. “She was very outgoing, and keeping the Library of Illumination and its gifts to herself would probably have been a burden for her. Although I’m sure she would have found a way to keep our secret if she had lived.”
★Were you already a curator then—when you met her?
“Yes. Her father was a scholar and often borrowed books from us. I met her one day when I dropped off a collection of research materials. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted her to be my wife. Still, I was wary at first, because of the longevicus charm. I didn’t know what she would think about getting older, while I barely aged. I never got the chance to find out.”
★It’s just as well. I see you joining the ranks of overseers one day, and the attachment would have thwarted your chances.
“It was long ago. She would be only a distant memory.”
★
Johanna wanted to talk to Jackson, but not in the company of Beck. “You know, you really don’t have to go out of your way to escort us. I’m sure we can find our way back to Marloes.”
“I’m not going out of my way. I have to go back to Marloes, too.”
“Is that where you’re from,” Jackson asked, “Marloes? I know you said you’re from Pembrokeshire, but you didn’t state where, specifically.”
“Funny,” Beck said, totally serious. “I don’t remember meeting you two, at all. And I have a really good memory.”
“You were a flight attendant on our plane,” Jackson answered. When I told you I was coming to this area, you told me it’s where you’re from and gave me a Pembrokeshire beer.”
“The airline I work for doesn’t serve Pembrokeshire beer.”
“I know,” Jackson continued. “You mentioned that. You told me you took it out of your private stash.” He nodded at Beck, hoping he would realize it was true. Beck grew silent but kept on walking. By the time they reached the boat ramp, a boat awaited them.
“You’re lucky,” the captain said, helping them board. “I’d just dropped off a few crates of supplies when I got called on the radio to pick you up. So I waited here, or else you would have had to wait and see if they could send another boat out. The wind is rising, so we’d best move on.” He started the engine and pulled away from Skokholm. No one said a word during the return trip. Johanna thanked the captain as she disembarked and took Jackson’s arm as she pulled him toward the path.
“What’s your hurry,” he asked.
“I want to beat Beck to the top, just in case he gets any ideas about confronting us on the cliff walk,” she whispered.
Together they made record time up to the road, while Beck hung back to talk to the captain.
“That was too strange,” she whispered.
“What happened, exactly?”
“I don’t know, but it was enough to wipe the tattoo from your neck and end a raging storm.”
“Do you think this is an alternate universe?”
She started to mock him, but stopped short. What if he’s right?
★
The overseers looked up in unison when the lights inside their chamber flickered.
δWe just recharged the generator fifty or sixty years ago.
⌘I don’t believe the generator is at fault. I believe the Terrorians are wreaking havoc.
⧳Yes. But where?
⌘We must all make contact with our curators, immediately.
Moments later, Ryden Simmdry sat alone in the chamber. It didn’t take long for his fellow overseers to return one by on. The earliest returnees reported no change as far as they or their curators could tell. However, Artemus Rexana returned with worry and concern etched across his already heavily lined face. ∑I spoke with Prophet IAN c. and he said nothing had changed, but then as we walked back to the portal, I saw, just for a moment, a pair of Terrorians who immediately disappeared through a portal. I came back as quickly as I could. It seems the portals have been breached.
⌘Plato Indelicat, I believe you said there has been no change on Terroria.
ΩNone that I could see, however, I did not speak directly to Nero 51. I was told he is away on important business.
The electricity in the air increased, fueled by the overseers’ reaction to the news that the Terrorian curator was not at his post.
§What business would Nero 51 have on Adventura?
⌘None. Terroria, Adventura and Mysteriose have been banned from direct contact with one another since the Two Millennia War.
ΩHow shall we proceed?
⧳We haven’t all returned. Pru Tellerence has not reported back from Dramatica.
≎Was she here before, I don’t remember seeing her?
⌘She is on Fantasia. I will visit Dramatica in her stead.
★
Ryden Simmdry did not immediately transport to Dramatica. Instead, he stopped in his personal workroom to invoke a spell that would protect him. He remembered the Terrorian debacle from a few weeks before and knew he needed protection from their weapons. It did not take long for him to complete his task and transport to the Dramatican library.
Furst’s soldiers opened fire as soon as the overseer set foot in the cupola.
The master felt the energy of the firearms that bombarded him as Dramaticans targeted him with their Terrorian weapons. He raised his left hand palm out. ⌘I am in charge of the College of Overseers. Please take me to Furst immediately.
At first, the Dramaticans appeared confused and angry when their weapons didn’t work. Ryden Simmdry quickly informed them their weapons did indeed work, just not on him. The Dramaticans told him Furst had gone “below” to hunt for “monsters.”
★
The library on Lumina differed from all others in the Illumini system in its design and layout. The Ancients fabricated the massive round building entirely out of diamond, because wood was unavailable when the library was created. It was inarguably the oldest structure in Lumi but not the grandest—by choice. The rest of the capital city wore a cloak of sophistication, however, the Library of Origination, the basis for Libraries of Illumination on twelve worlds, could be called understated in its simplicity. Even though the shelves glinted like diamonds and reflected light in a brilliant display of color, very few people—other than the College of Overseers—knew of its existence. A high wall protected it from prying eyes on the outside and its roof did not rise into a dome like surrounding buildings—specifically to not draw attention to its existence. The deans considered the Library of Origination their most precious gem, even though the exterior of the diamond structure would not be considered extravagant or special by Lumi standards.
One of the traits it did share with the other libraries was the dozen portals connecting it to libraries on other worlds. However, instead of a cupola, this library had the equivalent of the top of a large crystal egg jutting out of the center of its main floor, and portals danced around the egg in an undulating design.
On this particular morning, the overseers gathered in the vicinity of the egg, awaiting Ryden Simmdry
’s return, and in their long robes with their flowing hair and beards, they seemed to compliment the design and blend in.
Visitors, on the other hand, stuck out like inflamed pustules, so when Nero 51 popped up in the middle of the Library of Origin, he had no way to escape unobserved.
★
Furst, Bangor and Mudge slowly worked their way around sub-level six, looking for Terrorians. Furst felt certain at least one invader lurked on one of the 1,306 subterranean floors of the library, but it was an immense space to search with thousands upon thousands of stacks of books. It could take months.
Still, they had no choice. He must secure the library at all costs.
Dark corners in a labyrinthine maze did not make the search any easier, and each floor below grade possessed the same convoluted design. Shadows lengthened and crawled as the trio of Dramaticans made their way around the dimly lit space.
Furst soon adapted to the changing patterns of light and dark. He silently held out his arms to stop Bangor and Mudge when he noticed an odd shadow. It moved even when they stopped, and Furst raised his weapon in anticipation.
★
Johanna stared at the proprietor of the Tafarnwyr Inn. “What do you mean you don’t have our reservations? I realize we couldn’t return last night because of the storm, but we didn’t check out.”
“You never checked in. Perhaps you’re staying at a different inn and got lost? I can tell you for a fact there was no storm near here last night.”
“This is the Tafarnwyr Inn, isn’t it?”
“Aye. If you want a room, I do have one available, but only the one, not two like you said you had.”
“Fine,” she answered.
“We’ll take it,” Jackson agreed.
“I’ll need to see your passports.” Johanna and Jackson handed them over. “You can pick them up tomorrow.” She showed them to their room and left.
“This place is giving me the creeps,” Jackson said. “Let’s get in the car and explore.”
“Do you think anyone else around here would know about Eahta Frean fram Drycræft?”
“I don’t know, but I’d be very careful about talking about it too freely. Something weird is going on.”
They reached the car park but found their exploration curtailed when they discovered their rental car missing.
LOI
CHAPTER 31
Jackson stood in the empty space where they last parked their vehicle. “You know, we’re gonna get a bad rep for borrowing transportation. First the time machine is stolen, now our rental car is gone. Don’t be surprised if you wake up tomorrow and find your shoes missing.”
“My shoes…”
“Yeah. You use them to get around, don’t you?”
“Let’s get serious. Something major has happened, and we need to figure out what that is.”
“Do you have your diary with you?”
“Yes.” Johanna rummaged inside her backpack, removed the diary, and wrote: Mal, something weird is going on and we don’t know what it is, but a tattoo Jackson got just before we left has disappeared from his neck, the rental car we rented is gone (possibly stolen) and people we met don’t remember us? Is it a conspiracy?
It didn’t take long for Mal to get back to her. You must return immediately. Someone has interfered with the space-time continuum and nothing is as it was.
Jackson read Mal’s entry over Johanna’s shoulder. “That can’t be good.”
“We need to find a way back to the airport. Now.” Johanna walked inside and found the proprietor of the inn. “We’ve just found out my grandmother is deathly ill and need to go home immediately. We won’t be staying the night. Could you tell us how to get transportation back to Cardiff?”
They soon sat in a hired car en route to the airport. Johanna used her cell phone to book their tickets, and a few hours later, they boarded a flight back home.
★
The ray from Furst’s weapon did nothing to stop the advancing shadow. He wanted to retreat to take stock of the situation, but felt like his feet were glued to the floor. Fortunately, it wasn’t a threat at all, but Ryden Simmdry.
⌘Tell me what has happened here.
“A Terrorian invasion, it is. Theirs, these powerful weapons are. Lucky we did not hurt you, you are.”
⌘When did the invasion begin?
“Two days, it has been. Died, several Dramaticans have. Died, several Terrorians have.”
⌘Are there still Terrorians here?
“What we are trying to determine, that is. All levels, we must inspect.”
Ryden Simmdry held out his hand and closed his eyes. ⌘The levels are all clear. There are no Terrorians here.
Bangor and Mudge’s corkscrew curls loosened as they visibly relaxed.
⌘Where did you get these weapons?
“Dead Terrorians, we took them from.”
⌘How many do you have?
“Fourteen, we have. Thirteen, we are using. Taken one apart, Berra has. Replicate it, he wants to.”
⌘Take me to your leader.
“To see the Prime Minister, you want?”
⌘Is he in charge of the army?
“Died in the attack, the Military Provost.”
⌘Who is leading your people in battle?
“Found him, you have. Now in charge, I am.”
Ryden Simmdry smiled. ⌘Excellent. He paused. ⌘Did any Terrorians escape into the countryside?
“No. Dead, all who came out are.”
⌘Continue to do what you are doing, Furst, to protect the library and your people. I will take word of the attack to the College of Overseers.
“Many of our books, they have destroyed….” Furst’s shoulders slumped.
⌘We will help you replace them when the threat has ended.
“Expect that, when can we?”
⌘I wish I had an answer for you. Ryden Simmdry clasped Furst’s shoulder. ⌘ Carry on.
The overseer disappeared.
Both Bangor and Mudge let out a little yelp. “That, who is?”
“A long story, it is,” Furst replied as he made his way up the stairs to the main level.
★
Back on Lumina, the master of the College of Overseers found his fellow deans gathered in a tight circle around Nero 51 and another Terrorian. The overseers grew silent when they sensed Ryden Simmdry’s recount of the battle on Dramatica.
“Master Ryden Simmdry, I am glad of your return,” Nero 51 stated. “I am here to sadly report some of my countrymen have taken it upon themselves to attack one of the libraries.”
⌘How did they manage to breach the portals?
“I innocently informed some of our officials of the Fantasian’s sentence. Word must have leaked out to the general population, and some of them took it upon themselves to wage a private war.
⌘I see. Do you have proof to back up this claim?
“Yes.” Nero 51 turned to the other Terrorian. “General Lethro 814, tell them of the missing stun guns we created to capture live game for our food supply.” Before the general could say a word, Nero 51 waved one of his tentacles and continued. “Wild game is unpredictable, and rather than risk one of our own getting hurt while we hunt for food, we developed stun guns that allow us to quickly capture wild animals, and keep them alive until it is time to cook them, insuring freshness.” He turned, “Isn’t that right, General?”
“Absolutely,” the general answered. “I-I reported the missing guns to Nero 51 as soon as I discovered their absence.”
“And I,” Nero 51 said, “immediately came here to report the missing weapons.”
⌘And how do you know your kinsmen used them to attack a library?
The two Terrorians froze.
★
A taxi pulled up in front of the Fantasian Library of Illumination, and Johanna and Jackson climbed out, glad to be home, but none the wiser about who had tried to steal Myrddin’s memoir.
“Welcome home,” Mal said with a smile, when t
he teens walked in the front entrance.
“What happened?” Johanna asked.
★It seems the Terrorians have invaded Dramatica, and in so doing, have caused a temporal rift.
Jackson stowed his backpack behind the circulation desk. “What does that mean, exactly?”
★It means they have changed the past.
Johanna dropped her backpack next to Jackson’s. “I knew it. As soon as the time machine went missing, I knew Nero 51 would use it to invade other worlds.”
★Nero 51 claims some of his countrymen launched the assault without his knowledge after he let it slip that you would be arriving on Terroria to serve out a sentence.
“But I’ve already served my sentence.”
“No,” Mal said. “The temporal rift has jettisoned us back three weeks. You’re due to return home from Terroria tonight.”
“How can that be?” she asked. “I’m here.”
★The original Johanna Charette is here. A carbon copy of Johanna Charette from three weeks ago is on Terroria.
Jackson played with the gong on the circulation desk. “What if something happens to Johanna’s carbon copy? She would still be all right, wouldn’t she?”
Pru Tellerence looked from Jackson to Mal to Johanna. ★Johanna, you must get my miter hat out of the vault at once. I need to return to Lumi immediately. But you have to do me a favor and watch Bel while I’m gone. She’s protected here, but I’m afraid she may disappear if I try to take her to Lumina with me.
“Disappear?”
“Who’s Bel?” Jackson asked, before he saw a tiny face peek out from behind Pru Tellerence. He crouched down until he was eye level with the child and stuck out his hand. “Hi Bel, I’m Jackson.”
The youngster retreated behind Pru Tellerence.
“She only understands Russian,” Mal said.
“I guess it’s time to break out the interpreter on the iPad,” Jackson said, going behind the circulation desk to retrieve it.
“Is she the child you were looking for?” Johanna asked Pru Tellerence.
