by Ryan Tang
The boy's voice was thoughtful. It was the first time all night that he'd spoken first without Bret's prompting. His words echoed melodically against the Eternium walls.
"You know, there was a woman in the library today who I thought might have known the truth...but she was just reading from a book. Reading from a book! How could those stories have been forgotten? They were the Ignorants' only hope, and now they won't even have that."
Alex's eyes widened when she suddenly realized the truth.
All those funny words and phrases that seemed so out of place – "Ignorants," "heretics," "stay true," and "Truthspeaker." His voice, so calmly commanding like he'd been born to it. His sickly golden skin and starved frame, which spoke to a lifetime spent in hiding. His immense, unnatural strength when he casually pushed her to the floor. His terrible anger at her story about the engineer's rebellion. His boasts about how he alone knew why the Spire was built.
It seemed almost impossible, but there could be no other explanation. The boy was a Mad Noble.
Every logical thought told Alex to flee.
But she could never run, not now.
She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she should be terrified.
Alex took a calm and ordinary breath.
Then she took another.
It was so strange.
Reading in front of people was very scary, but following two people who would almost certainly kill her if they found her was only a little scary.
She pulled her backpack over her shoulder and pulled out her string, the one she used so she could find her way back through unknown book-corridor paths. Then she sighed and returned it to the pack. They'd see a string. She pulled out a pen instead, one of the many she used to draw on her arms. At every turn, she would make marks on her arm to indicate the number of paths then circle the one she chose.
She briefly considered putting The Familiars back into her pack then thought better of it, tightly gripping the book for comfort.
She had no choice but to follow them. If she left to call for help, they might already be gone by the time she returned. If they knew people were coming, they might flee. Then she'd never find out what they were doing in the book-corridors.
It was her duty as a librarian to discover what the boy knew.
____
The intruders weren't trying to stay quiet. Bret whimpered and complained in equal measure as his feet thundered against the ground. Filtered through the sounds of the holy metal, his frenzied steps became a summer song.
Alex keenly felt every shudder in her calves as she tiptoed forward as fast as she could. She needed speed as well as silence. She couldn't make a noise. Before long, the balls of her feet were aching with pain, but the librarian only ever paused to mark the path on her arm. She couldn't rest. They were eight floors ahead of her. She forced herself to take shallow and silent breaths even though her lungs were screaming for air.
Whenever the corridors split, she took the one that brought her closer to the voices, which steadily grew louder and louder. The boy moved with shocking speed. He was navigating the tunnels nearly as comfortably as Alex herself. If it weren't for the fact that he kept doubling back to coax Bret forwards, his eight-floor lead would have been insurmountable.
"How did you even know this place was here! The boss searched the library countless times! We almost tried tearing the whole thing down!"
"There are no secrets from a Truthspeaker. Hurry."
Sometimes she went down the wrong path, only realizing her mistake when the voices abruptly grew softer. She doubled back whenever that happened, struggling even harder to keep pace. Her exhausted legs moved from shuddering to jerking to quaking, but she didn't dare to stop.
"Where were you hiding from us?"
"That's not my secret to tell."
"Come on! Please! The boss will want to know!"
She felt a jolt of anxiety with every step she took. The sharp thrusts in her stomach slowly built towards terror. It was getting and harder to follow them quietly. A single missed step and then they'd know she was there.
"Why do the Ignorants like living in those small cube homes?"
Bret sniggered.
"Like it? They don't like it! Who would like it? It's all those losers can afford."
She soon lost track of time. It could have been just a moment, or it could have been hours. She didn't dare use a light, so all she saw was darkness. All she heard were Bret's whines and the boy's steady encouragement. All she felt was the screaming of her legs, the continuing deterioration of her calves, and the constant pounding on the balls of her feet. Her body begged her to stop and rest, but she forced it onwards, one quiet step at a time, closer and closer towards the noise.
They were far beyond the first floor. Just as the boy said, they were approaching the basement. Alex no longer recognized the walls around her. The more she walked, the darker the corridors became. She didn't know how that was possible. The book-corridor walls were made of Eternium, the darkest substance of all. But now the walls were so dark they drained all light from the books they carried. Once, she pulled one of them out. The cover was completely obscured, covered by a thick coat of pitch-black ink. The pages were the same. She slowly peeled them apart, but all she saw was black, black, and more black. The ink had sunk straight through every fiber of the page. Alex shuddered and hurriedly put the book back where she found it.
"How can you see? How do you know where to go? Slow down! I'm going to fall!"
"I can taste her in the air."
Eventually, the walls turned so dark Alex was surrounded by the void. It was so dark she could not tell the difference between the walls and the pathway. The librarian stretched her arms out, gently feeling her way forward. She was terrified of pressing too hard and giving herself away with the melodic ring of struck Eternium.
The voices steadily grew until they were just two floors away.
Then there was only a floor between them.
Then there was just a corner.
She turned and saw them.
The boy was holding a light so bright her eyes shrieked just to behold it.
Alex jammed her mouth shut, biting down on her teeth so hard they were still sore when she finally opened her mouth again. She could feel every single individual hair on her arms.
She'd nearly made a noise.
She'd followed them all this way just to nearly give it all up with a mistimed gasp. But the light was so bright and so beautiful.
Her eyes watered. The light flickered purple and gold. The same colors had flashed in the tunnel just before the boy stepped inside.
Alex frowned.
She blinked to make sure the bright light wasn't deceiving her.
The boy was just as she remembered. His glowing skin looked like it'd been pulled over his barren skull. Manic golden eyes peered from a mop of thin but straggly hair. He'd developed an unsettling new habit. His tongue flickered in and out of his mouth as if he were tasting the air. Alex was vividly reminded of a video she'd seen about Old Earth's snakes.
But it was the object in his hand, the source of the hallway's vivid purple and gold light, that surprised her most of all.
She looked closer and confirmed her suspicions.
He was holding a beautiful model Paragon, a purple and gold machine wielding a magnificent shield with a squid drawn on top of it.
Despite the circumstances, the sight of a gorgeous model Paragon with a painting of an animal from Old Earth's sea still made a small part of her squeal with delight.
Bret was very short. He was even shorter than Emile. His hair was carefully coifed, and his thick eyebrows were unnaturally arced. His drooping jowls and wide eyes gave him a vaguely froglike appearance. His lips were frozen in a permanent angry scowl that made him look not just ugly, but unbearably self-important. The tiny man wore a finely tailored black suit. The expensive material shone in the shifting light of the boy's model Paragon. Alex instinctively found herself wonderi
ng just how much it cost. She had never seen such fine clothing before, and it must have been handmade to fit his size.
She had to be extra careful now that they were so close. Every step and every breath had to match one of theirs.
Alex closed her eyes and imagined the cockpit once again.
She could be that careful.
She'd done something just as incredible the last time she played with Jared and his co-workers.
Her machine's arm, painted in her signature mosaic blue colors, strained forwards. All five fingers were stretched as far as they could go.
Every fiber in her body was calm and still.
Jared's ejected character flew through the air, his Paragon a devastated ruin. Her friend chuckled in disbelief then screamed in delight when he realized what Alex was trying to do.
"No! No! No way! There's no way!"
The other pilots stopped what they were doing to watch.
"Holy shit! Holy shit!"
"Holy cow! If you do this, it would be the greatest thing I've ever seen! Oh my god!"
Usually, she would have told them to shut the hell up and let her focus, but her concentration was so deep that nothing made a difference. It felt like she was sitting in the middle of a warm and pleasant bath. The screams were only a few more drops of soothing water.
She flicked at the dashboard then precisely calibrated the knobs that controlled her machine's fingers, quickly turning each and every one of them to the exact point they had to reach. A Paragon's hands were notoriously fickle.
Gripping weapons was a simple enough task, but catching a person was a different story entirely. Jared's ejected character fell faster and faster as Alex sped forwards.
Squeeze too hard, and they died on the spot. Fail to apply enough pressure, and they'd slip through your fingers.
Her fingers curled into a cup. Her arm turned.
Move your hand too slowly, and you'd fail to catch them. Go too fast, and they'd splatter in your palm.
Every move had to be perfect.
Her fingers curled around him.
There was a long pause.
Then Jared let out a cry of delight, and he shouted so loudly the simulator's transmitters briefly overloaded.
"Wow! I'm alive! I can't believe it! I'm alive!"
The other pilots gasped and cheered.
Alex giggled and blushed. Warm pride bubbled up from her chest, but she tried to play it cool.
"Back to the ship. Let's try this mission again."
The librarian opened her eyes.
Her legs still felt like jelly, but now she knew she wouldn't fall.
She stepped forwards, silently following the shifting light.
____
The two men hesitated for only mere moments whenever they encountered a turn. The glowing toy Paragon cast long shadows on the wall. The hooded boy continued his bizarre habit of licking at the air. His shadow's tongue was gigantic and twisted, an eel darting in and out of a cave to feast on prey.
Eventually, they reached a monstrous mess of pathways. The book-corridors were filled with twists and turns, but this structure had so many that Alex couldn't even count them. The paths went every which way, winding through the air and borrowing into the ground. Some were narrow, but others were frighteningly wide, so wide looked like transplanted caves.
There was a gaping hole in the middle of the floor.
The boy chuckled hungrily as he skirted past it.
"I don't think you need me to tell you this, but please skip that one. It's a feeding hole."
The boy sneered.
"Perhaps the Ignorants tried taming the goddess for themselves."
The boy climbed up to one of the tunnels in the middle. Bret slid around the hole to join him, whimpering with every halting step he took. Alex carefully marked the path they chose on her arm before ducking back to cover. The boy turned to help his short companion, yanking the frog faced man almost three feet into the air using only his left arm. The starved limb wasn't even straining.
The diminutive man yowled and squeaked, but the boy ignored his protests.
"What are you doing? What are you doing!"
"I'm sorry, but we must keep up our speed. Your master would understand. The hour of the devout approaches."
Their footsteps echoed as they walked down the corridor.
As soon as they were gone, Alex stepped forward. The hole in the ground gaped at her, darkness on darkness. The path across was surprisingly wide, but she could hardly tell what was solid ground and what was thin air after straining her eyes. Alex thought of the Paragon's cockpit again. Her fingers fiddled with an imaginary knob; then she took a perfect step forward, followed by another. When she finally reached the other side, she leaped upwards, just like the boy did.
The entrance was higher than she thought.
The librarian hung there for a brief moment, her hand scrabbling desperately against the frighteningly smooth surface, the rest of her body swaying back and forth over the gaping feeding hole. The Familiars was caught between her right hand and the tube. The pamphlet bent as she pressed it against the base of the entrance, and she felt a ludicrous pang of guilt. The precious gift from her parents was now badly crumpled and drenched in her sweat.
Alex strained with all her might. The muscles in her arms screamed. She strained harder, so hard she felt like her arms were going to burst. Her chest rose over the entrance, then her stomach. She reminded herself to stay quiet, but her left arm abruptly gave under her weight. It smacked loudly against the Eternium tube, which sang traitorously in response.
Alex's eyes widened in fear, but then she felt a dizzying swoop as her whole body jerked backward. She had no time to worry about staying silent. She would either force herself over or she would fall into the yawning hole.
The dangling librarian pressed down with all her might. For a single moment, her entire life became the excruciating feeling of her bicep straining against the smooth base of the Eternium tube and the force of her hand pressing against her parents' splayed pages.
Somehow, she hoisted herself over.
The tube sang loudly as the full weight of her body smacked against its smoothed floor.
The sound echoed throughout the tunnel.
Alex had no time for relief. She retrieved the crumpled pamphlet then froze as she waited for them to double back and see her.
But there was no response.
Only silence.
The librarian hesitantly walked forwards, bowing her head to avoid the tube's shallow ceiling.
As soon as she stepped across, a horrible wailing tore through the air. Her ears suddenly felt like they were being immolated from inside. The shrieking was so loud and so horrifying that it must have cloaked the noise she made falling over the tube.
Alex immediately withdrew. Just as quickly, the noise reverted to a faint murmur, a murmur she now recognized as the shrieking wind that'd always haunted the tunnels.
Her hand traced the sunfish she'd drawn on the back of her hand. She brought her arm up close and stared the lines she'd diligently marked at every turn, reminding herself she had a way to escape.
Then she stepped out of the tube again. The screeching returned in full force. Her ears wailed even worse than before, but this time she was ready for it. She stilled her heart, dove back into her battle-mind, and carefully observed the sight before her.
A staircase led down from the tube towards a vast amphitheater with seats carved out of jet black Eternium.
Alex thought about how far they must have descended. Every inch of the room was built out of black Eternium. They were probably inside the colony's very core. Yet books still jutted out of every shelf. The shelves had been cut straight into the Eternium walls. Alex had never seen books as damaged as the ones they carried.
They were rotting to pieces. Bits of forever black paper fell to the ground before her very eyes, twisting back and forth even though there was no wind in the tunnels. They looked like tiny por
tals into another world.
Strange and unfamiliar shapes bulged out of the covers.
The librarian saw outlines of shells, legs, tentacles, and stalked eyes. She caught glimpses of decaying leaves and empty branches. Spindly bone-like shapes reached feebly from the covers. All the shapes were completely still; the foreign plants and animals twisted in horrifying death throes.
The air stunk so strongly of salt and rot that her stomach swooped back and forth like a pendulum. It took all her will to keep from retching. Every breath became a gasp.
Alex slowly descended the stairs.
The wailing grew louder and louder as she descended. It was mistakably a woman's voice, a woman who was in terrible, terrible pain.
Alex wanted nothing more than to turn and run. The screaming was so loud they wouldn't even hear her.
Then she thought of her students and colleagues. They relied on her to discover secrets. She was a librarian and the Spire's expert on Old Earth history. She kept on walking, shuffling down the steps one uneasy stride after the other.
At the bottom of the stairs, a jet black door sat at the center of the Eternium amphitheater.
The boy and his companion knelt before the door with their heads bowed down deep, as if in prayer.
The robed boy didn't look quite so sickly anymore. His skin didn't look as pale, and his hair seemed thicker than before. His delicate mouth was set with a determination that made him look many times his age. His eyes glinted with their usual fire. Nothing could change his waifish thinness, but he stood straight and tall as he rose back to his feet.
The screaming came from inside the door.
Someone had scrawled a messy eight-sided scribble on the door. Burnt red gazed out of the forever black.
"A slight vein ran through the stone, the familiar burnt red cutting through a black as dark as space. My eyes widened. Cautiously, then frantically, I began rolling the cool knob of metal around my hands. Before long, my hands were clean, and the lump of Eternium ran burnt red from edge to edge, the same color as our lying ruler's machines. I blinked. It was only then that I understood how thoroughly Eternium was stained with blood."
