by Franc Ingram
"Guess it's too late to throw you back and get a new son, one that's less trouble," Oleana said, wrapping her arm around her son for a quick hug, the warmth of him reassuring her.
"Yup sorry, you're stuck with me," Lorn replied with a broad grin.
"We hope to see you two around," the young man said, interrupting their private moment.
Oleana turned back to afford him a smile. She could at least pretend to be a normal, sociable person as they were leaving. "Hope you enjoy the city. Take care,” she called brightly.
The young man seemed taken aback by Oleana's sudden jovial disposition, but the girl waved back, even giving Oleana a polite smile. Lorn started rumbling around in his pack, pulling Oleana's attention back to him. "We're all out of snacks, and I'm so hungry,” Lorn grumbled. “I didn't have time to grab any food before we left. How can we be out already?"
"Check my bag. I have two grain bars left," Oleana said pointing to her back.
"I ate those in the carriage,” Lorn said sheepishly. He shrugged. “Well, it was a long ride!"
"How did you...," Oleana didn't bother finishing. She had been so concerned with keeping her eye on the road, she couldn't remember half of the ride into the city. Lorn had a habit of treating her stuff as if it were his.
Being back in Solon unnerved Oleana. It made her skin feel tight, her tongue too heavy, and her eyes fogged up by the pain of the past. Lorn was right in what he said back at the Solon Inn, she needed a clear head. Even without the liquid morning pick-me-up, that was proving harder to accomplish than Oleana would have thought.
"Can we please go eat?" Lorn said.
"Library first. Then we fill that pit that is your stomach."
CHAPTER TWO: THOUSAND YEARS LIBRARY
Legend had it that the Thousand Year Library was the first library ever built on the planet Euphoria. It was the second oldest building ever, next to the Crystal Tower. Looking up at it, Oleana always got the feeling that she was staring at something that could stand up against the onslaught of time. The gray stone library, with its little round windows like dozens of curious eyes, looked like something carved straight from the mountain looming behind it.
The Twelve, the collective of A.I.s that ruled over the planet, commissioned the ultra, Cornelius to build the library so all who wanted to learn about the history of humanity as far back as ancient Earth, and of the new home of humanity the planet Euphoria, could come and immerse themselves.
It didn’t take Cornelius, being a slave to his lust for power, long to learn the true power of knowledge is money, and he restricted access to those who could afford to pay for the privilege. Going to the library became a reward for being one of Cornelius’ sycophants, and the books gathered dust. The progress of man slowed to a crawl.
The benevolent Twelve, tasked with saving the last remnant of humanity couldn’t stand for such treatment. They gathered all those willing to help fight to kick Cornelius from his self-appointed position as dictator. Thus began the war between humans, and the militant ultras. The bloody conflict lasted seventy-five years, leaving thousands dead and the world changed. When the dust settled and the blood dried, the new age of enlightenment began, and the boundaries of the five realms were set.
Oleana told her son the legends as bedtime stories for years, but she knew how true they were. She also knew that the end of ultra rule was only the start of mankind’s problems. Separating humanity into realms encouraged conflicts over territory and resources. The ultras, with their impossibly long lives were willing to sit back and wait for the right moment to strike back. The Twelve could see the conflict brewing. They took steps to give humanity a chance. They created the Heirs of Eternity, enhanced humans blending the abilities of the Twelve and the vulnerability of humanity that the ultras lacked. Oleana didn’t know the ending to that story, she was living it.
Lining the steps of the Thousand Years Library were statues of the heroes of Solon. Oleana was particularly amused by the one in front of the library. Its bronze surface had gotten a fresh polish since the last time she saw it. The plaque beneath was new as well.
"Champion of the right to be taught by the Twelve, Daycia invites all truth seekers to enter these ancient halls and find enlightenment," Lorn read. "That is so amazing. I can't believe we're actually here. Goodness. We're actually going to meet...,"
"Lorn." Oleana glared at him. She hoped one day he would learn to control his tongue.
Lorn hung his head. "Sorry,” he sighed, “calming down."
Two guards stood at the thick red oak doors leading inside the library, each one of them as tall as Lorn and twice as wide, with stoic expressions chiseled on hard faces. They tensed, and Oleana realized that being so obviously armed might present a problem. Going without a weapon wasn’t an option, she would just have to turn on the charm to get them through.
"State your purpose," the one on Oleana's right said, his deep voice as hard as the stone around him. He had a wide face, pinched brown eyes, and just a shadow of blond hair on his angular head.
"We have special passes for the library," Oleana said. She pulled them from her pocket slowly. The last thing she needed was an incident before she began.
Mister deep voice snatched them, the thick velvety feel of the envelope that held them accentuated how precious the cargo. He pulled out two cards, of heavy stock, with old embossed lettering on them and a red wax seal. He scanned it until his eyes hit the signature and seal. Oleana saw his eyes widen considerably. It wasn't every day that people came in with that kind of pass.
He handed them over to his partner who studied them carefully, as if he didn't really believe two strangers could have such a thing. "How did you get these?" number two asked, a touch of awe mixed in with his disbelief.
Oleana waved her hand as if they were nothing. "Just called in a favor from a very old friend," she said. If anonymity wasn't so required Oleana would have showed them who she was, and cut through all the questions, but safety came first.
"They're the genuine article," guard number one said, mister deep voice.
"But we can't just let them through with those," number two said pointing to the weapons.
"But it says free access," one countered.
Oleana didn't like being talked about while she was standing in front of them. Her jaw clenched tight against the rude words she wanted to spew all over them. "Why don't one of you go get Daycia, the Hero of Solon, and explain that you didn't trust her to decide who was worthy to come into the library armed,” Oleana said, sarcasm oozing from her every pore, “that what she wrote and sealed wasn't good enough for you!” Oleana waved her arm, pointing inside the library. “Tell the Fire Ultra’s child that you need further proof that she didn’t make a mistake. I'm sure that’ll go well for you.” She snorted, folding her arms in front of her, and leaning back against the doorway. “We'll wait right here." Oleana caught sight of Lorn who clasped his hand over his mouth, but his eyes glistened with his contained laughter. His leather soles squeaked against the stone steps as he shuffled awkwardly.
The guards exchanged looks. The Daycia, Oleana knew, was a mild tempered woman in general, but no one wanted to bother a legend no matter what their demeanor. Oleana hoped her bluff would cut through the hesitation. She had no intention of waiting around out in the open. If they didn’t decide soon she’d make the choice for them.
A group of students, evident by the robes they wore, approached the stairs. Now they had an audience. The guards looked between each other, and the incoming crowd of students. Guard number one’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. His wide nostrils flared and she could see the veins in his neck beginning to bulge. Oleana feared he might pick a fight with her.
"Go ahead through,” number one guard finally said. “Enjoy your time at the library," he added, forcing a smile. His partner moved aside just enough to let them pass. Oleana felt their eyes glued to her every step. Oleana stood even straighter. She wasn’t going to allow these men to get under her skin. Afte
r all, she’d won.
Pushing the heavy wooden doors open, the noise of the library came out to greet her. Even though it wasn't yet mid-day, the peak time for public access, the library was bustling with activity. Young men and women, proudly clad in their student robes, and arms laden with books of various sizes, scurried back and forth through the halls. They were worker bees doing the delicate dance of hard work.
The main entrance of the Thousand Years Library opened to a grand foyer with a circular mosaic tile floor. Off to the left sat a semi-circular desk large enough to fill the hotel room Oleana and Lorn shared the night before. Two men, both with heads of gray hair, helped the students gather and check out books, or directed visitors to where they needed to be.
Toward the center of the back wall, and off to the right, were archways framed with thick wooden beams that lead into other rooms. One labeled, ‘Science and Technology,’ the other, ‘Earth History.’ The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves could be seen through the openings.
Directly opposite the circular desk, lay a set of wrought iron stairs that spiraled intricately into the upper levels of the library. They were wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side comfortably. The spindles of the banister were shaped into different types of flowers from all over the world, crawling up twisting vines. Oleana had always thought it a shame that such a beautiful piece of art was relegated to a dim corner, although there were plenty of other works of art to appreciate, all over the library.
"It smells great in here, Lorn said in awe. “Like old books and freedom.” He inhaled deeply, adding mischievously, “Maybe a hint of sweat too." With wide eyes, he turned in circles trying to take it all in. "What are the different color robes for? What's in those rooms?” Lorn’s questions came like rapid-fire arrows as his excitement grew. “Those stairs are gorgeous! What could be up there? This place is massive!" Oleana laughed at her son’s exuberance, and placed a hand on his shoulders to slow him down.
Oleana took a deep breath. "The color tells you what year the student is in, and the crest on their breast represents which school they're in,” she explained. “The rooms nearest us contain research books, which are separated by general categories. Second floor is works of fiction, along with some study rooms. Third floor contains the offices." Oleana looked around until she saw the person she needed, wearing a badge. "Stay here, I’ll be right back." Before Lorn could ask yet another set of questions, she stepped away. She spoke briefly to a young man at the desk just inside the science and technology room, showing off her pass during the exchange. Once she got the response she needed, she moved back to Lorn. She pointed him up the stairs.
His eyes lit up like stars. Oleana didn’t know how long she could put up with his heightened excitement. Normal everyday Lorn was bad enough, but the giddy little school boy he’d morphed into as soon as they got close to Solon wore thin fast.
Just off the stairs, stretched a long corridor with four different hallways leading from it. All four openings had the same ornate wooden archways.
In all her travels, Oleana couldn’t remember any other place that felt like this library. Every detail of its structure showed both elegance, and functionality, on a scale that seemed incongruous with its age. How could a building so old, have features that would have looked futuristic in even the most modern buildings?
The materials were all wood, stone, and glass, with precise detailing carved into every square inch. The walls were slightly curved to catch as much of the natural light pouring in from the expansive row of windows. Steam pipes running under the floors kept them warm, even in the most frigid part of the winter.
Yet the old-world feel could not be denied. Above the doors, signs were written in a language not of the planet Euphoria, but of an ancient Earth long dead. Oleana remembered the words, though the fancy script took some deciphering.
‘Hall of Science,’ ‘Hall of Medicine,’ ‘Hall of History.’
Oleana didn’t need the signs to point the way. She’d roamed the halls for years as an apprentice, during her first lifetime, learning what it meant to be the Guardian, one of the Heirs of Eternity. The learning curve was steep, and she had a hard time letting go of the family she had left behind. The second time around, once she’d been old enough, she had run away from home with a fire in her belly, and a desire for revenge.
Oleana followed the turn of the first branching hallway, then entered the second room off that one. It was a relatively small room compared to all the others they’d seen so far in the library. It was closer to the size of their motel room, if the wall separating the bathroom at the motel had been removed. A worn rug, with a pastel flower pattern on it, covered much of the floor. Three high-backed, dark gray chairs bisected the rectangular room along its width. Two dark wood desks took up opposite corners, facing each other, both stacked with books and papers. The focal point, though, had to be the large bay window looking out over the city proper.
A third-year student sat at the desk on the right side, his nose buried in a large leather tome that looked old enough to predate Oleana’s original self. He didn’t even look up at them when they entered. His lack of reaction made it obvious he wasn’t a member of one of the more militant schools that taught students to be aware of their surroundings at all times.
Oleana sat in the chair that gave her the best view of both the window and the door. Lorn walked to the wall of pictures showing the current head of each school, Medicine, Science, Technology, History, Philosophy, and Engineering. His hand glided over the gold embossing under each picture, identifying the names of each person. Oleana noticed the changes since her last time through. She was happy to see there were still two faces she recognized, though neither would recognize her current face.
“Alwen? Have you finally found your way back home?” a voice asked behind her.
Oleana smiled. “I see you still move with the stealth of someone a quarter your age,” Oleana replied turning around. She couldn’t help the broad smile that swallowed her face the second she laid eyes on her mentor.
Daycia, the mixed-race child of the Fire Ultra, Emmaray, stood taller than most women at 6’4”. Her skin tone reminded Oleana of freshly fired brick, a dark tan color with hues of brown and red thrown in. Daycia’s hair was fire red, just like her mother’s, and violet colored eyes that looked more like painted glass than something flesh and blood. She wore a long-sleeved tunic that hugged her hourglass curves and came to a point just above her knees. A peak of heather-gray leggings poked out of the top of her hard leather knee-high boots.
The two women embraced in a hug that would have crushed lesser mortals. Oleana never wanted to let go. If there was any place that felt like home, other than the island she was originally born on, it was the library, and that was because of Daycia.
“It has been much too long my friend,” Oleana said. She stepped back to get a good look taking in every inch of her old mentor, seeing her again felt like a taking in a glass of fresh water after a very long, very hot day. “Why is it you don’t look a day older?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m finally getting a little gray coming in at my temples.”
“It only took five hundred years.”
Daycia laughed, which finally got the student’s attention. He jumped up, having to fold himself over the table to keep the book from falling. “Lady Daycia I didn’t...I’m so sorry...I uhm…” the student stammered as he fumbled with the book.
Oleana felt sorry for the guy. He was so flustered he couldn’t finish a sentence. Daycia had that effect on a lot of people. Ultra offspring were rare. Mixed race offspring like Daycia were practically unheard of. Add the fact that she was the last living member of the founders, and the current Dean of the Library, and people just didn’t know how to react to her.
“Relax Colin,” Daycia said smiling, her voice soft and kind. “It is us who have disturbed your studies. Forgive us. We shall conduct our reunion elsewhere.”
The student bowed low, avoiding Daycia’s g
aze. “No, my lady, I can go. I was about done anyway.”
“Don’t be silly,” Daycia insisted, “stay. Besides I owe my young friend...” she paused looking at Lorn questioningly.
“Lorn,” he supplied wide-eyed.
“...Lorn, a tour of the library,” she completed with a serene smile.
Lorn clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from losing it.
“By the way,” Daycia turned to the student before she left, “I realize chapter four is somewhat disjointed,” she nodded at the book in his hand. “We were in the middle of a war, if you remember, and I did my writing between battles. You will forgive me for not sticking to my usual clear-cut wording. The heat of battle changes one's perspective.”
Colin nodded so vigorously his shoulders bounced with the movement. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” Daycia replied with a smile, turning her attention back to Oleana. “Now come on you two. We have a lot of ground to cover.” The Fire Ultra gently cupped their shoulders as she led them from the room. Oleana knew Daycia meant that in more ways than one.
Once they were out in the hall and well away from the open door, Daycia’s gaze fell on young Lorn, who bounced beside her down the hall. Oleana watched as her mentor studied the boy’s arrow shaped birthmark featured on his forearm. The ruddy brown mark wasn’t obvious against the amber brown color of his sun-kissed skin, unless someone was looking hard for it.
Lorn took the scrutiny without a word. He held his back straighter. His movements became more precise, but he made no move to break the silence, which was unusual for him.
“Would you two mind showing me how they interact?” Daycia asked, stopping in the middle of the hall, glancing between Oleana and Lorn. There was a hint of suspicion in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed by Oleana.
“Prove we are who we say we are, you mean? Prove that these marks aren’t fake.” Oleana said. She didn’t like the idea of exposing herself out in the open. She liked even less that her friend would be suspicious of her. “When you greeted me so warmly back there I thought maybe …,” Oleana let the thought drop. She expected the great and powerful Daycia to recognize her no matter what her outer shell may have looked like. When she first wrote the letter to Daycia over a month ago, Oleana waited anxiously for a response but when she got the passes back, she’d hoped everything would go smoothly between them. Oleana thought she could come home.
