Library of Illumination: The Orb

by C. A. Pack

  LIBRARY OF ILLUMINATION:

  THE ORB

  C. A. Pack

  1

  Late-morning sunlight filtered through the soaring windows of the Library of Illumination. The leaded panes cast a glowing grid upon the intricate design of the Persian carpet. Suddenly, something more ominous obscured the pattern—a pulsating blue light that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

  “Even though the gold highlights on the richly illuminated text have faded with age, the impact of their beauty is no less powerful,” Johanna said, as she gave Jackson a lesson on restoring illuminated manuscripts.

  “Look at the delicacy of the acanthus leaves surrounding the main letter,” she continued. “They’re only a small part of the whole, yet their intricate beauty lends depth to the illustration.”

  As she sighed, in awe of the beauty of the artwork, Jackson sighed inwardly over the beauty of Johanna. He had been working with her for several months, and when school went on summer break, he had jumped at the chance to work additional hours at the library, so he could be near her. He didn’t know if she knew how he felt about her. Nor how she felt about him. For now, the job gave him an excuse to be by her side, five days a week. So here he sat—a hairsbreadth away from her, inhaling her scent and becoming intoxicated by the tone of her voice.

  Johanna was older than Jackson, but he had no idea how much older because she refused to tell him. He looked mature for his age and was at least eight inches taller than her, making them look like contemporaries. He knew she had an active social life, because he’d once seen her having dinner with some guy when he and his pals had walked home from the movies. Johanna and her date sat at a window seat in Le Chat, Exeter’s excuse for a French bistro.

  “... the ink isn’t absorbed by the parchment. So the pigment merely lies on the surface of the page, which is why it’s unstable and has a tendency to fade.” Johanna pulled out the Swiss Army knife attached to her key chain and lightly scraped the top of a letter. She turned toward Jackson to show him the dusty residue. In doing so, her thigh brushed against his bare leg. It was the middle of July, and they both wore shorts to stay cool in the heat.

  Jackson felt every nerve ending in his body jump to attention. His face reddened.

  “It’s too hot back here, isn’t it?” Johanna asked, not waiting for him to answer. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable just by looking at your face. I’d better read Mal’s diary tonight to see if he mentions whether the library has air conditioning. If this heat keeps up much longer, the books are going to melt.” She opened her desk drawer and dropped her keys inside.

  “Yeah,” was the extent of Jackson’s reply.

  “Why don’t you go get something to eat? The luncheonette has air conditioning. The pizza place has fans, but with those big ovens going, you couldn’t pay me enough to eat there.”

  Is she asking me to have lunch with her? “Sure. Wherever you want to go.”

  “Oh, I can’t go. I’m expecting a call from Book Services about a delivery. You go. I think you need to cool off.”

  Did he ever, but not for the reason she thought.

  They walked out of the library antechamber.

  “When you come back, we’ve got to finish setting up the display for the Gutenberg Bible. We don’t want the board of directors to get their hands on it during their meeting here on Thursday. They may decide to read part of it, and we don’t need Moses parting the Red Sea in the middle of the library. I know it’s hard to believe, but even though they’re the governing board of the Library of Illumination, they have no clue that these books can come to life. And I think it’s best if it remains that way. Mal, the former curator, wrote in his diary that some of the directors just want the prestige and power that comes with being on the library board, and he said, ‘power corrupts.’”

  Johanna often spoke reverently about Mal. Jackson had never met him. You would think Mal is a god the way Johanna refers to him. Jackson stared at her, wondering if she felt about Mal the way he felt about her.

  “Don’t stand there scrutinizing me. Go to lunch.”

  Jackson felt his face grow hot. He tried to change the subject. “Do the books come to life even when they’re loaned out?”

  “There are a few, select scholars and universities that have been approved to receive the enchanted books. I usually have to borrow books from other libraries for people who aren’t on my master list.”

  “Who approves them?”

  “Well ... Mal approved them, I guess, and then when someone who’s on the list retires, he or she usually recommends someone they trust to be added to the list. So I guess it’s self-perpetuating.”

  “So when they open the cover, stuff happens, even though they’re not here in the library?”

  “Yes, but they know how to handle it.”

  As they walked down the hallway, Jackson noticed something blinking in the main reading room. “What’s that funky blue light?”

  They stopped in their tracks when they spotted a large sphere in the middle of the room. It was about three feet in diameter and appeared to be studded with smooth silver disks. On closer inspection, they saw the metal disks were attached to internal spikes, aimed at a smaller black globe suspended in the center of the orb. An iridescent blue-and-purple gelatinous substance surrounded the globe and pulsated, emitting the dull blue light.

  Jackson reached out to touch the sphere. The teenager’s hand never made contact. Instead he felt a buzzing sensation that propelled his hand away from the orb, like a mild electric shock. “It won’t let me touch it.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it looks like something from a science-fiction movie. Think about it. It came out of nowhere; it’s got its own defense shield; and it’s pulsating.”

  “Like it’s alive?”

  “Like it’s ticking.”

  Johanna paced nervously. “Let’s be logical about this. Where do you think the device might have come from?”

  Jackson shook his head. “You’re the curator. You tell me.”

  She nudged a piece of lint with her toe and then bent down to pick it up. “Do you think someone could have broken in while we were in the antechamber?”

  He looked at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. You know how hard it is to break into this place.”

  “Maybe they knew to ask for illumination,” she said.

  “Maybe the sphere came out of a book,” he answered.

  “Spontaneously?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because a book wouldn’t just fly open.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Right now”—she sighed—“I’m not sure about anything.”

  Jackson tried again to touch the orb. This time the shock was not as mild. “Maybe we should call the police.”

  Johanna shuddered. “The police will ask too many questions. They might poke around and start opening books. It could be a disaster. And after what happened with the pawnbroker, I’d rather not call them.”

  “If it’s dangerous ...” Jackson could not fathom her reluctance, but stopped short, realizing he sounded confrontational. “Maybe it’s from Mal,” he speculated in a quieter voice.

  “Like a fount of knowledge?” she asked wistfully. She reached out to touch the orb, but Jackson grabbed her hand.

  “I would think a fount of knowledge would be ... I don’t know ... friendlier?” He realized he was still holding her hand, and blushed as he dropped it. “You don’t want to touch that thing.”

  “Knowing you, you probably think it came from another planet.”

  He made a face at her
. “You mean like Krypton?”

  “Something like that.” She paused. “It could be a communications device.”

  “Or maybe H. G. Wells visited the library again in his time machine. You told me that once happened here, right? So maybe he dropped it off while we were in the back.”

  Johanna narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You look sexy when you do that.”

  “Jackson!”

  He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He had the good sense to look embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  She took a deep breath. “The first thing we have to do is determine if it’s dangerous. I just don’t know how to do that without getting any authorities involved.”

  “Why don’t you just open a book about Albert Einstein?”

  Her face lit up. “Oh my god, you’re a genius!” She walked over to the science stacks. “Of course, you should take that with a grain of salt, because if you really were a genius, we wouldn’t need Einstein.”

  “Thanks.”

  Johanna found a manuscript of Einstein’s Relativity: The Special and General Theory and opened it. A man with dark, wiry hair who looked like he had just stuck his finger in a live electric socket materialized in front of her. He had a bushy mustache that matched his hair, and wore a shapeless oatmeal-colored cardigan.

  Einstein stared at Johanna for a moment before breaking into a warm smile. “I’m Albert Einstein. What is this place? I don’t remember traveling here.”

  “Dr. Einstein, we’d like your opinion about an unusual object that, as far as we can tell, appeared out of nowhere. It’s giving us cause for concern.” She led Einstein to the blue orb.

  He studied it for several minutes before trying to touch it. The orb repelled his hand. “It contains a great deal of energy.”

  “Yes, but what is it?”

  “Do you have notes or drawings outlining the construction of this device?”

  Johanna shook her head.

  “Formulas?” Einstein continued. “Schematics? Without those, I can only theorize that what I see before me is extremely powerful.”

  “Is it a bomb?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps?” Jackson practically shouted. “Is that the best you can do? You’re Albert freakin’ Einstein!”

  Einstein looked at Johanna. “Who is this young man?”

  “Jackson.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He works here.”

  Einstein turned to the boy. “Everyone should be respected as an individual, but no one idolized.”

  Jackson wiped the sweat from his brow. “What does that mean?”

  “Why do you think I, more than you, should know what this is?”

  “Because you’re a genius.”

  “The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits.”

  The rebuke left Jackson speechless.

  Johanna closed the manuscript about relativity. Einstein vanished. She removed a later work by the physicist.

  A white-haired version of Einstein appeared almost immediately. He looked at the blue orb and smiled. “I remember this from earlier in my career. It’s still here.” He studied Johanna and Jackson. “You, too, remain and have not aged.”

  “We’re trying to determine if the sphere is dangerous,” Johanna continued.

  “Where did it come from?” Einstein asked.

  “We don’t know,” she said.

  “This technology, while intriguing, is not within my field of expertise. If you believe it to be a bomb, then may I suggest J. Robert Oppenheimer as a suitable expert? He is a theoretical physicist with a great deal of knowledge in the area of explosive devices.” He paused. “How long has it been since I was here last?”

  “Just a few minutes,” Jackson said.

  “Then it’s true.” Einstein smiled. “The distinction between the past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

  He disappeared when Johanna re-shelved the second manuscript.

  Jackson’s curiosity was piqued. “Who is this Oppenheimer guy?”

  “The director of the Manhattan Project, or as he’s better known, the father of the A-bomb.”

  “So you agree, it’s a bomb?”

  “You’re the one who said it was ticking.”

  “So where would I find a book on Oppenheimer?”

  “I’ll get it,” Johanna said, taking the stairs to the second story. “You look around to make sure no one got in here while we were in the back room.”

  It took several minutes to find the right book. Jackson waited patiently until Johanna returned. “This place is locked tighter than a drum.”

  “I thought so. Anyway, here goes nothing.” She opened the book to a page at random.

  Instantly, a small group of scientists, engineers, and mathematicians appeared. They were deep in conversation and scarcely noticed that their surroundings had changed, except for one man. He looked at Johanna and Jackson through intelligent blue eyes. He took a deep drag on the pipe he held clenched between his teeth before speaking.

  “I won’t even hazard to guess how we got here, when mere moments ago we were sitting in my office at Project Y. What I do wish to know is, what do you want with us?”

  “Are you J. Robert Oppenheimer?”

  “I am.”

  “Albert Einstein told us you might be able to help us. We need to know what you think this is.” Johanna pointed to the blue orb. The others had already noticed it and gathered around it.

  “Where did it come from?” Oppenheimer asked, mesmerized by the pulsating blue light. The hypnotic strobe cast a ghostly pallor on the faces of the people who had accompanied him. Oppenheimer reached out to touch it. He felt the energy of the force field, but not the sphere itself.

  “Spooky, huh?” Jackson stated. “I tried that, too. There’s a force field around it.”

  “It would seem our esteemed director has been warned off,” one of the scientists joked. The others began talking excitedly about what could create such an energy shield.

  “It just appeared,” Johanna told Oppenheimer. “There was nothing here an hour ago when we went into a back room to work on an illuminated manuscript. We found the orb sitting here when we returned. The thing is, the library is a locked facility and there are no signs of a break-in.”

  As Oppenheimer listened, he surveyed his surroundings. The words library and illuminated manuscript piqued his curiosity. “What is this place?”

  “It’s the Library of Illumination,” Johanna answered. She turned when a scientist who touched the orb for the third time cried out in pain. She moved closer to the injured man and looked at his hand.

  The distraction didn’t faze Oppenheimer. He walked over to the nearest shelf to see what treasures it might hold. On it lay the Gutenberg Bible, which had not yet been locked in the display case. He gently ran his finger across the tooled calf cover that carried the scars of more than five centuries of use. He slowly opened the book, recognizing its history and value, and he carefully turned the pages to the book of Genesis. Instantaneously, Adam and Eve sprang to life, standing naked before him.

  —LOI—

  2

  Adam stood at least a foot shorter than Oppenheimer, who was six feet tall. Eve was even smaller. The first couple was surprisingly bald, with no facial or body hair. Instead, they had the soft, downy skin of newborns. They had not been exposed to the elements long enough to be either tanned or hirsute. They neither cowered in fear nor tried to cover their naked bodies, but stood as still as statues, their skin so pale they could be mistaken for alabaster figurines. Their muscles were clenched and their eyes wide. They seemed to be on high alert, monitoring every sound and movement around them.

  The scientists slowly turned away from the orb, their attention now focused on the naked couple who miraculously materialized.

  They all stared at each other, not knowing where the others had come from. No one besides Johanna and Jackson had any knowledge of the uni
que peculiarities of the Library of Illumination, nor had they seen the physicist open the Bible.

  Oppenheimer slowly looked from Adam to Eve, and then to Johanna, whose eyes were fixed on the book. The physicist looked down at the Bible, then closed his eyes for a second as he processed the information at hand. When he opened his eyes, he smiled at the first couple and closed the cover on the Gutenberg Bible. Adam and Eve disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. The scientists gasped and immediately began speculating about what had just happened. The disappearing couple was, to them, just as astounding as the strange blue orb with a force field.

  Johanna took the Bible out of the scientist’s hands. “Please, Dr. Oppenheimer, we need to discuss that pulsating sphere.”

  One mathematician refused to be put off. “Where did they go?”

  “Back to their own reality,” Oppenheimer replied. “Just as we will return to ours. Is that not right, miss?”

  “Is that one of your random hypothetical suppositions, Oppie?” a scientist asked.

  “There is nothing random about it, gentlemen. We’ve been brought here to discuss this device.” He gestured toward the orb. “Care to share your opinions?”

  “It’s very powerful, and the field around it is becoming exponentially more dangerous,” a mathematician stated.

  “It gives off light, but doesn’t appear to generate heat,” noted an engineer.

  “The interior protrusions are aimed at what appears to be a carbon ball in the center. If the protrusions have been engineered to act as a fission trigger and the central ball contains an adequate amount of uranium and plutonium, or even chemicals unknown to us at this juncture, then this could be a powerful explosive that needs to be immediately disarmed,” another scientist concluded.

  Oppenheimer walked around the orb, noting what his colleagues had said. “Gentlemen, if devices like this are possible and there are people who have access to them, then we have a big job ahead of us.”

  “Can you disarm it?” Jackson asked.

  “No,” Oppenheimer answered, “not without more information on who created it and why. Or how it was put together.” He looked at Johanna. “What year is this?”