by C. A. Pack
“What will that do?” one curator asked.
ℌIt will make the Terrorians reflect on their actions.
“From what I’ve read about Terrorians, they’re not a species that embraces reflection. They have more of a ‘kill first, ask questions later’ attitude.”
ℌThat, unfortunately, is accurate.
*
Jackson moved out of sight when he heard the cupola screech. Having witnessed it on Dramatica, he knew it meant the portals were opening. He should have been excited at the prospect of Johanna returning, but it was much too early. If Terrorians are invading the library, I’m not going to be an easy target. He slipped inside the coat closet and held his breath. Relief washed over him when he saw an overseer approach the circulation desk. Jackson walked out to greet him. “Where’s Johanna?”
◍I am Selium Sorium. I’m here to assist in Johanna Charette’s return.
Someone pounding on the front door interrupted them. The overseer waved his hand, and the door slid open. The president of the library board of directors was on the other side, with his wife and a pair of librarians from a nearby village. The president stared at the overseer, then grabbed Jackson by the arm and pulled him out of earshot. “What the hell is this, a masquerade ball?”
Jackson pulled his arm away. “That man,” he said, nodding at Selium Sorium, “is a very important member of this library’s College of Overseers, and I suggest you don’t insult him.”
“If he’s so important, why haven’t I ever met him?”
Jackson felt momentarily bewildered until the answer formed in his consciousness. “You’re in charge of development for the management and growth of the library. However, Mr. Sorium oversees its literary endowments. After all, there would be no library if there was no collection of literature.”
As far as the board president was concerned, the word endowment was spelled M-O-N-E-Y. He glared at Jackson before he walked over to the elderly man in the odd costume and introduced himself.
Jackson smiled. That should keep him out of my hair. He turned to see a librarian lean over the top of the circulation desk and pick up a slender volume of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It was a Level Two book that had just been returned that afternoon. “Excuse me,” he said, as he rushed to her side and pulled the small book out of her hand before she could open it. “If you start reading that,” he joked, “you’ll never pay any attention to me. Why don’t you find a seat up front? We’ll be starting in just a minute.”
“I was just looking for a little something to occupy my time.”
Oh, it will keep you occupied, he thought. He stuffed the book in his jacket pocket and continued greeting guests, while keeping an eye on the crowd to make sure curiosity did not kill the cat.
*
Nero 51 checked his timepiece. It was time for Operation Final Darkness to commence. He raised his weapon into the air while pulling a sliding lever on its side, a feature not included on most of the other arms. Suddenly, everyone’s weapon glowed with an eerie purple light.
“To the portals!” he cried.
*
The librarians in the Fantasian reading room settled in for the presentation.
Selium Sorium nodded at Jackson.
The teen took his cue. “Good evening, everyone. Are you ready to see how to convert your system into one that’s designed for the twenty-first century?”
Some of the librarians applauded. One man shook his head and said out loud, “I hope this isn’t a waste of time, because our system is already computerized.” Other librarians whose organizations had also converted to computer nodded in agreement.
“I know most of you have already switched to online public-access catalogs. That’s not what we’re discussing. We’re here to talk about wirelessly retrieving information from anywhere—a car, your back yard, or even a cruise ship at sea. Tonight, we’re talking about serving our communities with cutting-edge technology. In today’s society, the keyword is ‘instant gratification.’”
Jackson used a remote control to bring the giant TV screen to life. It showed banks of library tables filled with sleek computers—with nary a book in sight. “These computers will access our library’s full array of knowledge, as well as connect to online creative editing programs for video, photos, music, and text. We like to call it our ‘digital hub.’” He took a deep breath. “And if we’re very lucky, maybe we can talk the president of our board of directors into approving this.” An image of a three-dimensional printer filled the screen.
Jackson saw the board president scowl, but forged ahead. “With our wireless and online capabilities and a 3-D printer, we can become research central—a think tank that fosters creativity, invention, and innovative solutions to take us into the future.”
“What happens when your hard drive fails?” someone asked.
“Lock the doors,” another person called out, inciting giggles and snickers.
“Here at the Library of Illumination, we save all our information to multiple cloud servers, and retrieve it wirelessly using these.” He waved an iPad in the air.
“Does that work when you’ve got no electricity or modem?” someone asked.
“It does if you have a mobile hot spot—which is easy enough to get.”
The audience buzzed. Jackson grinned as he changed the slide and pointed to the screen. An image with a graphic about cloud computing appeared, and then pixilated before changing to video of a scary-looking alien with a huge weapon. Everyone laughed except Jackson and Selium Sorium, who immediately recognized a Terrorian soldier.
*
Johanna sat on the edge of her cot, wearing her backpack. Inside, she had packed the fake obelisk. She rebalanced the stolen Terrorian weapon, now braced against her shoulder. She almost abandoned her choice to use it when it started emitting a purple glow, but changed her mind when she heard the humidifiers roar to life.
The Terrorians embraced precision. Johanna had witnessed it when they marched in unison to recover the weapons stored in Nero 51’s residence. It would not surprise her if the curator activated all the guns at the same time, resulting in the subtle purple light.
She took a deep breath. If anyone entered the room, other than an overseer, she planned to immobilize that person and everyone who followed. She didn’t really know how the weapon worked, but it looked fairly straightforward; it had a wider end, a narrower end, and a double ring that reminded her of a partial eclipse, which she surmised was the trigger. She shivered not because she felt cold but because she was anxious. What if this thing doesn’t shoot? What if they execute me? Who will take care of the library? What about Jackson? Is that why they made him a curator-in-training, because they already knew I wouldn’t be returning?
Her door suddenly opened, and without thought she pulled the trigger, and the weapon fired.
*
On every realm, Terrorian advance teams dove through the portals with their weapons at the ready. A scout on each team stepped forward to survey the open space that exposed each library’s aboveground levels, looking for signs of resistance. A second member of the team covered the scout, while the third warrior stood guard over the portal. On the other side of the openings, troops began amassing, ready to launch into battle. They stood poised, awaiting the go-ahead from the advance teams.
In most cases, the libraries were quiet. However, some exceptions existed.
*
Opel 29 was motivated by the possibility of confrontation. Like many members of his species, his eagerness manifested itself as secretions from overactive glands—much like sweat. He signaled his Terrorian partners that they should hold their positions until he got an idea of what they might be up against. He leaned over the cupola walkway and was instantly stunned by what he saw. How can this be? Below sat an army of Fantasians, waiting to take them on. He wiped excess secretions from his brow with a tentacle, which sent a hail of minuscule droplets onto the people below. One of them turned to look up, and Opel 29 i
mmediately jerked back.
*
“Do you have a sprinkler system in here? I think it’s leaking,” a librarian said.
Jackson took a deep breath. “I’ll go see what it is.”
“Wait,” the overseer said in a normal voice, rather than transferring his thoughts inside everyone’s head. “These people are interested in what you have to say. I will check on the upper level.”
“No,” the president of the board of directors declared. “If anyone’s going to check on the condition of this library, I’ll do it.” He pushed past the overseer and headed toward the cupola stairs.
◍Oh, dear.
Jackson could hear the overseer’s thoughts in his head.
◍This has “catastrophe” written all over it.
*
The force of the blast from the Terrorian weapon threw Johanna forward. She collided with Plato Indelicat, who grabbed the young woman to steady her. The wall behind the cot glowed. The overseer moved to touch it.
ΩYou have enveloped the wall in a force field.
“Delumination,” Johanna stated. The force field continued to glow.
ΩThe Terrorians have obviously reconfigured the key to their force fields.
“Bril,” Johanna tried.
ΩBril means “illuminate,” not “deluminate.” Dril.
The overseer’s attempt failed.
ΩAs I have said, they have altered the code for deactivating the shield. Little matter. The Terrorians will deal with it when they come back. It is time to go to the portal.
Johanna picked up the weapon and turned it around. “At least now I know which end to aim.”
Plato Indelicat warily eyed the young woman.
ΩBe illuminated, Johanna Charette. There will be Terrorians on your world.
*
The leader of the Terrorian advance team assigned to Dramatica descended to the main floor of the library. He could hear Furst humming in the antechamber. He twirled a tentacle in an upward spiral, motioning the others to begin moving through the portals to the cupola. A dozen soldiers had crossed when the Terrorian scout heard Furst push back his chair. His tentacle suddenly dropped, and the troops stilled, awaiting further instruction.
The team leader stepped back behind a shelf.
Furst’s humming got louder as he approached the main reading room, but then ended in a series of sniffs.
The team leader readied his weapon.
Furst rounded the corner, and then he spotted the Terrorian. His red, curly hair pulled into tight, wiry corkscrews, and he flexed his knees.
The Terrorian aimed his weapon.
⌘That is ill advised.
The words he heard did not deter the soldier from pulling the trigger.
*
On each of the worlds, curators experienced similar events. They had been instructed to go about their normal routines, while the overseers used an enchantment on themselves to shrink to the size of one of Johanna’s protein bars. At that height, they looked more like figurines than people, and could often observe what was going on undisturbed. Even the curators disregarded the overseers’ presence.
*
Jackson found it difficult to concentrate as he continued his presentation to the librarians. He could hear the president stomping up the cupola staircase as it rose like a patinated metal helix through the five uppermost levels of the library. Every so often, the footsteps stopped as the president paused to catch his breath.
High above him, the Terrorians watched and waited, ready to suspend their first victim behind an impenetrable force field.
*
Johanna began to exit her quarters but stopped when she heard countless troops of Terrorian soldiers stomping up the cupola stairs. She slammed the door to her chamber, with Plato Indelicat and herself still inside. “The Terrorians are all heading to the cupola. How will we get past them to the portals?”
ΩWe will wait. Terrorians are an impatient breed. They will waste no time traversing the portals to force their will on beings from other realms. Once they have done that, we will return to Fantasia.
“But they’ll already be there, doing lord knows what to my library.”
ΩI suggest you leave the weapon behind. There is the possibility that other Terrorians will follow. Being caught with one of their weapons could mean certain death. You would be perceived as a spy and never be allowed to leave this place. Without the weapon, you are merely a Fantasian who has served a sentence and is being escorted home. They will allow the charade to continue until you reach your home planet, just so they can relish your sudden realization of domination rather than escape.
“How nice of them.”
ΩCome. The footsteps have ceased.
They climbed to the cupola and made their way to the portal to Fantasia. They saw no sign of the Terrorians. The troops had all transported to the other libraries. Johanna took a deep breath and said, “Illuminate.” When nothing happened, Plato Indelicat repeated the command, and the pair immediately transported to the other side.
*
On Terroria, Nero 51 lifted a tankard of fermented merk. “T’ cra!”
Members of his inner circle echoed his toast. “T’ cra.” To victory.
It would not be long before reports filtered in from the troops, declaring their positions and successes. Nero 51 used a tentacle to wipe the foamy head of the sudsy spirits from his mouth. His plan had been perfectly executed. Every man had been thoroughly trained and appropriately dispatched. One member of each advance team was fluent in the language of the realm being invaded. The timing had been perfect. The only imperfection scratching the smooth surface of his plan was Heil 66. He had been a member of the inner circle, and yet had withheld information about a spy. Nero 51 wanted to believe the shadow Heil 66 had seen belonged to Johanna Charette, but the information had come too late to interrogate the girl. What if someone else spied on me? It made Nero 51 uneasy.
“I am going to withdraw in preparation for victory,” he told the others. He handed them a small black box with three buttons. “Please buzz me when you have heard from our soldiers on every world. Press the white button for total victory, the purple button for partial victory, and the red button for retreat.”
“So fancy, Nero 51. Why not just have us meet you at the library when we hear from the troops?”
“I will be contemplating victory and fine-tuning our plans for the future—in a place of meditation. It will be easier to contact me in this manner.” He raised one of his right tentacles. “T’ cra!” He worked his way toward the exit, entwining tentacles with each member of his inner circle in a show of solidarity.
Back inside his library, Nero 51 descended to the basement and moved the bookcase leading to the sub-levels. Like all the Libraries of Illumination, his had been designed with 1,311 floors, most of them underground. However, he had taken the initiative to create a secret passage on level 333 that led to a living compartment only he knew about. He had used it as his personal residence for years, and had stocked it well, with everything he could possibly need. He preferred to use his official quarters on the residence level as a command post. It was the perfect place to store munitions and pertinent information about the invasion, to keep them close at hand.
He settled into a comfortable position and looked at the bank of lights near the ceiling, white, purple, and red. He could relax here, undisturbed, while remaining informed about Terrorian exploits on distant realms. He closed his eyes and sank into deep meditation.
LOI
CHAPTER TEN
“What the ...?”
Even before the president of the board of directors had finished his sentence, a Terrorian trooper took aim and fired his weapon. The blast caused a high-pitched squeal that reverberated throughout the library and caused the president, as well as Jackson and their guests on the main floor, to slump over or drop to the ground, cover their ears, and suffer the pain. The pitch of the audio signal had a much different effect on the Terrorian
who fired his weapon. It caused the weapon to reverse action, locking the shooter in a force field.
The other soldiers did not immediately comprehend what had happened to their team leader. Instead, they saw the president of the library board still moving, so several of them took aim and fired.
Terrorians began freezing in place, unable to move after firing their weapons. One of the remaining soldiers threw his weapon down and raced down the stairs, intent on strangling any Fantasians he met with his bare tentacles.
*
Jackson struggled up from the floor, even though his ears continued to ring. If Johanna returned now, he feared she would get caught in the crossfire. He raced up the stairs to the cupola, only to find his way blocked by a Terrorian. The soldier extended his tentacles, as Jackson stepped back and reached into his waistband. The teen removed the gun and fired a shot before the Terrorian knocked the Glock out of his hand and it clattered down the long staircase. The bullet hit the Terrorian, and a spray of blood covered Jackson in a purple haze. The soldier squealed in pain, but did not give up.
Another tentacle snaked toward Jackson. He stuffed his hand in his jacket pocket, looking for a screwdriver or pen—anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed over the slender volume of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and he pulled out the book.
The Terrorian knocked it out of his hand, but Mr. Hyde suddenly sprang from the pages of the open book, carrying a heavy cane with a blood-covered handle. He used it to beat the startled Terrorian until the soldier went limp. Jackson ducked, grabbed the book, and quickly closed it. He slipped it back in his pocket before he climbed over the inert soldier and continued up the stairs.
*
The last few troopers on Fantasia realized their weapons had been turned against them and tried to retreat, but the portal suddenly flashed, and Plato Indelicat and Johanna appeared.
Without thinking, one of the soldiers fired his weapon, causing Johanna to drop to the ground, writhing from the pitch of audio feedback. The warrior immediately found himself locked behind a force field. His fellow soldiers dropped their weapons, grabbed the overseer, and jumped back through the portal to Terroria. They dragged Plato Indelicat through their library, out onto the toxic streets of the Twelfth Realm, and into Building 7—a location that they felt would give them greater control over their hostage.