Margo Flint and the Last Soldier

by Nick Mazmanian

  "Yes, as I am responsible for you! Your father would wipe my memory if anything were to happen to you."

  Margo sheathed her sword, took out the com-receiver box, and hooked it on her belt. "My father always worries about me."

  Her hands reached inside the cabin, ejected the AI crystalline chip from the control board, and inserted it into the com box. Catcher's voice began to speak from the box. “For good reason, you do go off and get into trouble, and this is no exception."

  "What am I supposed to do? Let Brie gloat about going into the book return? I am not going to let her have all the glory." A warm wind complimented the afternoon sun as it rustled through the trees and along the teenager's shoulders. She turned toward the beaten wooden doors. "I am going to go deeper than anyone has ever gone. Future initiates will remember this..."

  "Endeavor?"

  "Yes, endeavor, whatever... Guess it's a good thing you're coming along, Catcher. I'll need a witness."

  Margo crossed the stone floor and over to the front door. She placed her hand on the pitted-steel handle, only to have a shiver shoot up her spine. Looking back at the gyro, she could see the overgrown world beyond and the blue sky above. For a moment, she thought about returning to the craft and leaving. The wind would make for a great day of flying.

  "Margo, really, just grab one of the books from the front. These places are unsafe if you go any further inside. What about the ghost?"

  "You believe that story?" Her voice carried a mocking tone.

  "No, but most legends come from fact. Danger may be inside. Let's just grab the nearest...

  She cut off the AI and entered the darkened building. "No, it's the map section or bust."

  >

  Mold clung to the air like a child to a blanket. Shafts of light sprung through the large oval windows and spread through the tall walnut bookshelves that were either standing tall or leaning on one another. Shadows and caverns formed among the desks and rows of knowledge that opened up after Margo had entered through the front doors. "Wow." Her voice carried for a moment, which prompted a smile on her face and a deep breath that exited out in a yell: "Hello!"

  "Margo! Calm yourself! Who knows what's living inside of here."

  "It's empty."

  "And dark. You did bring a light, right?"

  "Uh, no."

  "Outside, get the one from the..."

  "I don't think we'll need it, Catcher. There's more than enough light."

  "Do you have any idea where the map room is located?"

  "Yes..." Margo took out a scroll from the protector on the hip of her belt. Unrolling it showed a blueprint of the building or a good portion of the front of the building, as the rest was blank and open to the imagination. "...it's in the back there."

  "The back? Where in the back?"

  Her gloved hand waved toward the unknown portion of the map. "There, somewhere..." She rolled up the map and began to move passed the tall front desk.

  "Not to sound sheepish..."

  "Too late."

  "...but I think you really ought to get the lantern."

  The interior of the building was swollen from the years of being exposed to the exterior elements. Much of the structure now had plant life growing and attaching itself in odd ways to the ceiling and walls. The library had become more like a cave than a place that once held a wealth of knowledge and people. Margo's feet carried her toward the center of the room, clearly the most visited section, as the floor was clear of moss and showed wear. The book return cart sat empty. "See, even if I wasn't planning on it, I'd still need to head in further."

  "All the more reason to get a lantern from the gyro."

  A sigh escaped her chest as she unhooked the com-box and put it on the desktop next to the map. "What do you think you're doing?"

  "Me? I'm getting the flashlight."

  "Why am I staying here?"

  "Study the map, try to piece this place together and see where the map room is. When I get back, we'll head in."

  "Alright." Even with Catcher's electronic voice, a faint uneasiness was heard.

  Margo smiled at the box, "Are you scared of the ghost?"

  "No! I am an AI. I do not get scared, just concerned, that ghost story needs to stop being told. It only gives grounding to something that isn't real."

  "Then concern yourself with the map. I'll be right back." She walked toward the door, pulled it open, and exited the tomb. Moving toward the gyro's exterior storage box, she took out a small lantern. Margo shook her head; it wouldn't be that difficult of a task. They should be back at the landing on top of her home in no time. As she hooked the lantern onto her belt, an electronic yell emanated from the wrapped oak doors. She pulled the sword from its leather home and sprinted back inside. "Catcher!"

  "Margo!" The AI's voice echoed toward her from the darkness that lay between the shafts and columns. Her eyes caught sight of the com-box's blue light as her legs began to chase after the seemingly floating object. "Margo! Go back!"

  "No!" Her boots plopped and pounded in the puddles and vaulted off of the jutted ground beneath her. Her efforts were not in vain, as she could see the blue light growing closer, but could not make out the creature carrying it. Its features were blurred between the shafts of light from the outside world and the darkness of the ancient structure. Her lungs were beginning to burn when her boot finally caught on something in the blackness below her, making her trip and fall onto the decaying wooden floor.

  It was then she realized that there was no light here. This place was in complete darkness, and at this moment, she felt the crawling touch of fear poke along her back. Her hands immediately reached for the lantern on her belt, extended the device, and created an explosion of light that pulled back the curtain of black. Her eyes began to adjust as she looked around the room that was now cast in a orange hue.

  Shadows danced and moved with every sway and jolt from the lantern. Before her stood bookshelves that seemed to be untouched by the changing world outside. The spines of the books were a bit dirty, but were in far better condition than their cousins out front. The ceiling above her arched with a beauty that does not fade in time but only grows. A few cracks here and there, but overall it stood in one piece. Margo's boots thudded against the moss covered floor as her free hand held her blade outward. Her lungs were flinging air in and out as they breathed the moist atmosphere of the contained ecosystem. A small stream was running through the room and emptying into a large black hole in the floor. Her head looked over into the oblivion that the hole created, shook away from it, and turned toward the shifting shadows of the room; looking for the blue light of the com-box.

  Till she found it floating among the shelves, "Catcher!"

  "Mar..."

  A higher pitched voice cut off the AI. Its tone hissed and carried an electronic tune at the end of its speech, "For who are you?"

  Margo raised her blade to eye level and pointed toward the location from which voice was emanating. Her response was choppy at best, as she said, "M, Margo Flint, and you?" She walked toward Catcher, carrying the light with her, and as she did, the orange tint began to take a hold of the mystery guest.

  Its boots were simple, built to last and explore. Its pants were worn and beaten with love. As the lamplight climbed up the tunic, and landed on the face, Margo felt her mind cease in horror as she gazed upon her own face. The face then said, "I'm Margo Flint."

  Her eyes widened as her breath began to pick up. She stuttered, "Yo...you're the ghost."

  "Margo! Go now! I don't know what this is but..."

  "Shut up." The kidnapper’s voice sounded like exactly like Margo's. Her thin hands flipped off the volume control on the com-box. Once her task was complete, she looked up at the terrified eyes of her visitor. An unnatural grin formed on her face. "You are the first."

  The teen's hands were shaking as they gripped the sword with all of their might. Her breath was shallow, as the soles of her boots crossed the small stream that ran through the
room. Margo wanted to speak, wanted to say something, but only bits of noise exited her throat. Her doppelganger walked forward, and with every inch gained, Margo added another in the opposite direction. She shouted, "Stay away!"

  "Why would I do that?"

  "Ju..just give me Catcher, and... and I'll go."

  The mirror image looked at the com-box and back at the person before her. "No, he stays with me. You only need to replace him."

  "What? Look..." She thrust the sword forward, stopping the blade just a hair's breadth away from her target's face. "...Catcher is with me."

  "Now he's with me."

  "Give him back."

  "No, you're going to have to take him from me."

  A quiet burst of anger shot from Margo as she swung her blade down toward her placid-looking self, but instead of making contact with flesh, she found the sword stuck in the wooden floorboard. Her eyes darted up to find the doppelganger still standing before her, still smiling, as she whispered, "My turn."

  A swift hit with the palm knocked the wind out of the human's lungs. She then took Margo's shoulder and toppled the flesh-bag into the hole that fell into the nothing below.

  >>>

  Drops of water fell on Margo's face as she began to wake from her forced slumber. Sitting up forced a sharp pain to fire off from her left leg. A quick investigation revealed it had received three deep cuts that had torn through her leather pants. She began to control her breathing, calming it from the heightened pitches it had reached. Her head tilted up toward the hole above her, only to find that she could no more see the top than when she had looked down for the bottom. The pain bolted up from her leg as she moved her body out of the way of the stream. "Damn."

  "There isn't one here, if that's what you are looking for."

  The voice came from the darkness that formed just outside the reach of Margo's orange lamp. Her eyes searched the dark field as her hands took the first aid spray from her belt and dressed the wounds on her leg, forming a film over the cuts. The teen used the nearby bookshelf to prop herself up and test the wounded leg. She drew another quick breath of air as she put her weight on it. "Who are you?"

  "I should be asking you the same thing." The voice carried the same tune as the ghost from upstairs, but a hint of warmth sat in its tone, "You come falling into my section unannounced, and you ask me who I am? Rather outrageous, wouldn't you say?"

  A gritted apology came out as Margo stepped toward the voice in the darkness. "So...rry." She hobbled toward a worn wooden flagpole that held a tattered flag from a country that no longer mattered. Her hands took the pole from its stand and used it as a way to offset the pain. "I wouldn't no...rmally... be so rude, but you see, my friend is in trouble. And so am I, as you can see."

  "Clearly. What did you do? Slip upstairs?"

  "I was pushed by the... the thing that took Catcher."

  "Thing? What thing?"

  "The ghost. Same as you, actually."

  "Ghost?" Projectors built into the room formed a series of polygons that clipped together and built into an older woman who held a trustworthy look on her face. The detail of her appearance was awe-inspiring, and if not for the fact that a portion of her right face was missing, she would have appeared to be a real person. She blinked her single eye and smiled. Her expression was giddy in nature as she said, "Haven't done this in a while."

  Margo kept the brass eagle topper of the flagpole pointed at the hologram as she leaned against a nearby table. "Can I trust you?"

  A perplexed look came over the single eye. "What? Of course."

  "How can I know that?"

  "I am in service to this library and those who visit it. I am programmed to help, find, and direct. Nothing more. Also..." She stepped through the makeshift spear with the greatest of ease and waved her hand through it as well, "...you can't hurt me.” Frustrated, the teen lowered the pole and held it across her lap. "What are you looking for?"

  "I need to get back to my friend. He's been taken."

  "You'll have to be a bit more precise in your request. You said a ghost took him?"

  "Yes, the ghost, I thought it was myth, but it took my shape and my voice and it shoved me down here."

  The hologram appeared to be intrigued by the series of events that led her to this place. "A ghost that took your form and..." Her single eye moved from confused to realization, with a touch of fear, "You probably just saw something that wasn't there; darkness around here can play tricks on the human mind."

  Margo's eyes grew in anger as she jabbed the point of the raised eagles wings into the pulpy wooden floor. "I wasn't seeing things!" Her voice echoed with a thud against the leather-bound walls, "Catcher was taken by a being that looked exactly like m..." Her voice cut off at the answer standing before her. Her sword didn't miss its target; it went through it, same as the woman in front of her. "You're an AI, aren't you?"

  The hologram rolled her eye. "You are a fast one, and a snappy dresser, too. Teenagers."

  "Are you the only one in this building?"

  "Of course not!" The hologram pulled up a diagram of the building that displayed the seven story structure that lead into the earth. Her hands zoomed in on the fourth level and circled the room marked 'Paleontology.' “This is the Municipal Public Library of... well..." Her face grew confused as it looked around orange room, "I... I don't remember." Her hand reached up to the hole in her face, "My projectors don't seem to be the only thing that has been bothered by time." A smile crept up as she shook away the thought, "I am Reference: one of two AI's in this building."

  "Then the other one is on the first floor?"

  Reference's body language shifted and stiffened. "You are correct: Information is bound to the first floor, I handle the rest of the library"

  Margo stood, winced, but held herself steady, leaving the pole on the oak table. "Then Information has Catcher."

  The hologram waved away the accusation. "Impossible. Information is only here to help, just like me."

  "Can you hand me the pole?" Reference walked over, grabbed the pole, and gave it to Margo. "Why you were able to grab the pole just then?"

  "Because you requested it, and I cycled my projection to export a high amount of energy, which let me interact with the object."

  "You willed this to happen?"

  "No, you asked, and the request allowed me to activate that protocol. Now..." Reference walked through the oak table, "..since you're request was fulfilled, the protocol has turned off."

  Margo walked toward the hole in the ceiling and looked up. "I came here as a part of my people's coming-of-age ritual. Heading out into the ruins of the old world, alone, and coming back with knowledge lost inside of it. Many come here, to this place, and bring back books."

  "That's why I hear footsteps every once in a while."

  "Yes. Many tend to stick to the front, but I wanted to push the limits. I wanted to head in further than anyone else had gone." The teen motioned to her leg, "I did just that, but Catcher is going to pay the price of my hubris."

  Reference rolled her eye. "Look, child..."

  Margo locked onto the AI's face, "I am Margo Flint."

  "Margo, Information cannot..."

  The teen's voice cracked back with a layer of hate as she yelled, "Say that it can't! Say it again, please!" Tears began to well under her eyes, "I know what I saw and I know what happened to me. You say there are only two of you in this building; so far, you haven't tried to kill me. That leaves only one alternative."

  "Margo, we are not programmed to do what you just said."

  While a tear or two began to fall down the teen's face, her expression was one of determination. "Then what is it that you two are made for?"

  This question seemed to perk up the hologram as she answered, "I am here to help, find, and direct people toward the item they are looking for in the library. I help shelve, give people references for papers they are writing and such." Her hand pointed up toward the ceiling, "Information is there to greet vis
itors and give them raw batches of data. It can also take on the form of famous or infamous people that the visitor is trying to research or interview. It has access to thousands of..." Reference's face froze as its eye glanced around the room and thought back to what it just said. Her body started to shift a bit, "Information can become whatever the visitor wants it to be. Did you tell it be become you?"

  "No. As I ran after Catcher, Information stuck to the shadows, and when I asked it what it was, it became me."

  "No instruction?"

  "None. It chose to be me." The AI took a few steps back from Margo and shook its head. The hologram leaned against the oak table and clasped its hands together in a worrying fashion."Reference?"

  "Yes?"

  "How are you able to lean on the table?"

  The question startled the AI into looking down. Her hands went closer to the table and touched it. No command had been issued to her to have her do what she was doing. "I, I wanted to." The thought made her look up at Margo, "Ho...how am I?"

  Margo leaned next to her on the tables edge. "You wanted to."

  "Who am I?"

  A sigh escaped the teen's lungs. "I asked my Dad that same question not too long ago. You know what he said?" Reference shook her head. "He didn't know; we never do. Only what we do will tell us who we are." She stood and faced Reference. "I need to know how to stop Information."

  "This could just be..."

  Margo motioned toward her leg. "That thing did this to me; the next person might not be as lucky."

  The AI seemed to ignore that statement. She was still hung up on the previous sentence given to her. That thought was pulled into the floor wide databanks at the base of the building and filtered through the billions of algorithms that flowed through her mind. It took a bit longer than before, when this place was new, when the world was busy, before the silence, before this moment in time.

  Reference looked at the table where she was sitting and realized that if she could will this, then so too could Information. When it was just them, they would talk, chat over the server blades, and meet on the top floor. Over the years, Information seemed to become more unpredictable, reserved, and when it did speak, it spouted nothing but nonsense. Reference could see that the degradation of their code had allowed this to happen. She knocked on the oak and looked at the teen standing before her, the wound on her leg from the fall, a fall caused by her... friend. "Information is on the same server blades as me. We are separated by a division of tasks and coding. You will have to shut down the mainframe in order to take Information offline."