The Wounded World

by Michael Vu

  *******

  Quin was surprised by the drastic change between the inside and the outside of the house. Inside was warm and welcoming; the orange couches, with yellow, knitted blankets draped over the back suddenly standing out to him. A rocking chair creaked, apparently rocking itself next to the fireplace, and Meriym, Kip, and John were laughing about something in the kitchen. In contrast, the outside seemed far more grey, cloudy, and cold than Quin had remembered it actually being, and he wondered if it was the strange feeling he had about this world, or the people inside the house, that made the difference.

  “Quin!” John said as Quin walked in. “We made up a sign for you! It goes like this.” He put his hand on top of his head, and rubbed it back and forth furiously, making his hair stick up, while simultaneously sticking out his tongue. Kip burst into silent peals of laughter, his smile wiping out all other emotions and his hands grasping his belly as he breathed a rasping laugh.

  A small smile flitted across Quin’s own lips as he watched the scene.

  “I think the sign for ‘John’ should be this,” Quin replied, taking his left hand, sticking it into one side of his cheek and moving his tongue to make it appear that he had stuck his finger through his face. If it were possible, Kip laughed even harder, until he fell out of his chair.

  Meriym intervened at that point, smiling and laughing. “Now, now, boys,” she said. “The soup is ready, and I don’t think you can eat it when you’re laughing, or you’ll be spitting it all over the house!”

  Kip sat up and climbed back into his chair. He was still snorting a little bit but he was clearly trying to calm down. Wolf growled from the corner.

  “That’s fine,” Meriym responded. “There will be leftovers, I’m sure, if you want any later. Be safe!”

  The next moment a draft filled the house as Wolf opened the door and disappeared into the grey world outside.

  Pulling out a chair, Quin sat down at the table. He caught John’s eye.

  “I quite agree,” John replied to his silent suggestion. “Meriym, as soon as Quin and I are done eating, we need to head back.”

  “Speaking of that,” Meriym said, “where are you from?”

  “We are from the planet Sagitta, the city Pomegranate,” John replied formally. “What about you?”

  “Sagitta?” A cloud crossed Meriym’s face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Meriym crossed her arms. “There was a man that came from there. He offered me protection, but he caused much suffering to other people. My world has been destroyed because of him.”

  John bowed his head. “I am sorry to hear that. May I ask who it was?”

  Quin shook his head sharply.

  “I prefer not to discuss it anymore.” Meriym placed a bowl at each of their places.

  “I understand.” John bent down and slurped his soup up rapidly.

  Eating more slowly, Quin broke the awkward silence. “What is in this soup?” he asked.

  To his surprise, Meriym blushed slightly. “It’s a potato soup my grandmother always used to make. She said it would make men healthy and strong.”

  Nodding politely, Quin drank some more of his soup. “Delicious,” he said.

  John nodded eagerly. “It is wonderful! Thank you so much for being a wonderful host.”

  A slight smile crossed Meriym’s features and immediately the atmosphere in the room relaxed. It even seemed to get a little bit warmer. Quin frowned. Could one person have such a huge impact on the feeling of a room? He stood and lifted the backpack. John stood as well, and took his dishes and placed them by the sink.

  Meriym came over to them and held out her hand in the traditional Cadrellian goodbye gesture. Quin grasped it and then turned and left without another word. He heard John come running up behind him.

  “You barely said goodbye!” he protested.

  “It’s traditional,” Quin countered. “You’re the one that didn’t follow her lead.”

  “Psh.” John punched the backpack that Quin had slung over one shoulder. “Where to next?”

  “Great Forest on the Bay,” Quin replied.

  “Really? Why?”

  “Well, there has to be a reason this place looks like that place, right?” Dust plumed around Quin’s feet as they neared the bridge.

  “I thought you thought we should get back,” John said, a look of hope crossing his face.

  “We already broke the rules,” Quin said. “We might as well learn something useful before we face Mr. Drake.” He came to a stop as he gazed at the two Doors in front of them. “But which Door do we use?”

  “Either one,” John replied. “They’re both polylocus. You go first.”

  Quin’s steps on the wooden bridge sounded hollow, and then he heard nothing at all as the ten seconds of weightless, senseless emptiness enveloped him.

  5. GREAT FOREST ON THE BAY

  The first thing Quin noticed were the two burnt red suns hanging from opposite ends of the sky, angrily glaring at one another across the sea of clouds between them. A third stood higher, burning bright white and mediating their angry stares. Beneath the beautiful, wonderful sky was a bustling city. Wagons drove by; children laughed and shouted; people walked and talked with each other.

  Then the street went silent as all eyes turned to look at the two men stepping from the Door. A voice beside them announced loudly, “Attention, citizens. We have visitors.”

  Quin tensed as all around them the people fell to their knees and bowed their heads.

  “Oh, don’t do—” John began, but was quickly silenced by a large man in a black leather vest.

  “You must be silent, and you must wait.” His was the voice that had initially announced them.

  Shifting his weight, Quin crossed his arms in front of him and turned to look at the man, who subsequently refused to meet his eyes. This was a strange way to protect a Door, and one he had never experienced. In addition, their backs appeared to be against a wall.

  The entire street, including all the people, children, animals, and John and Quin, stood in silence for nearly ten minutes. Then, a large litter decorated with gold thread and tassels was carried into view by – presumably – slaves. Resting on the litter was a beautiful woman with olive skin and black hair, bangles on her arms and ankles, and enough earrings to sink a ship. Lying by her side was an enormous black panther. Next to the litter strode a tall, elegant servant carrying a staff of some sort.

  She turned to look at them. A cat-like smile slid across her lips. Her litter carriers turned to walk closer to where Quin and John stood, stopping two litter-lengths away. Quin watched with mild shock as the servant with the staff bent down. The woman lifted one ankle gracefully from the litter and stepped on his back, using him as a living set of stairs. She walked towards them, stopping with her face inches from Quin's.

  He looked her in the eye, but paid attention to his peripheral as the cat slinked between the bowing citizens, closer to him and John. Quin recognized the move. The woman would distract them, while the cat got into an offensive position.

  “I know you,” she said.

  Quin said nothing, focusing instead on the movements of the panther.

  “You're just like he described you.” Her laugh chimed. “And you,” she turned to John, “I suppose you are the other one.”

  “Madam,” John said, bowing elegantly. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. But you have me at a disadvantage. May I ask your name?”

  She laughed again, ignoring his question. “You certainly are the other one.” A scowl flew across her features. “But I find I am displeased. It is not even lunch time and already we have had three visitors. In one day! That is more than we usually get in a year! What is the meaning of this?”

  “Three visitors?” John asked. “I only see two.”

  The cat had ascended a staircase on one of the nearby buildings. Quin risked a glance. The building had an upper terrace which jutted out towards the road. From that posi
tion, the cat could jump down directly on top of them. Quin shifted his stance into a defensive position that would allow him to absorb the impact and shield John should the cat decide to jump from the ledge.

  “Men!” the woman called over her shoulder. “Bring the girl out.” She turned towards John. “I was going to kill her, for amusement purposes of course, but since you asked…”

  A group of rough-looking soldiers dragged a wooden cage forward. Inside was a young girl with matted hair and torn leggings under a dirty tunic – and she was spitting mad.

  “Bastards!” she yelled. “Let me out of here! Fight me like a man. If you win, I die. If I win, you die!”

  “What language is that?” John asked.

  “Melfisian. And some Blenin and Roumatid cursing.” Quin crossed his arms and looked at the woman. “Don’t kill her.”

  “But Betsy was so looking forward to it!”

  “Is Betsy your panther?” John asked. “Because if so, that is very anticlimactic. I mean, she’s beautiful and all, sitting up there like a black shadow under the clouds which look like ribbons of jewels, but Betsy?”

  “You speak beautifully,” the woman replied, “but are arrogant.”

  “Don’t kill her,” Quin repeated.

  “I will make a bargain with you,” the woman replied. “I wish for you to come meet my family.” She stepped forward and drew her soft fingers down Quin’s cheek. “If you agree, I will let her come with us. If you all leave my palace successfully, she may go with you.”

  “Deal,” John said.

  “I was talking to Quin,” the woman said.

  Quin’s eyes flashed. “How do you know my name?”

  The woman burst into a peal of laughter, which sounded like a chalkboard being peeled with a potato peeler.

  “You do not know? Well, you are friends of my brother. He speaks well of you.” She turned away. “Do we have a deal?”

  Glancing at the girl in the cage, Quin replied, “Yes.”

  “Bring them to the palace,” the woman commanded to no one in particular, and then stepped delicately onto the back of her servant and lay against the pillows. The panther slinked back through the crowd and leaped into the litter; the servants braced under the sudden weight.

  “What is your name?” Quin asked suddenly.

  “You may call me Isabel.” With that, the servants carried her carefully away.

  As soon as Isabel’s litter disappeared from sight, two large men appeared on either side of John and Quin. Obligingly, Quin and John began to walk in the direction in which they were being nudged; nearby, a group of men picked up the cage with the angry young woman.

  “Hey,” John said, waving at her. “Hey! What’s your name?”

  “What’s it to you?” she asked, grabbing onto the bars of the cage and spitting on the cobblestones.

  “Well, we basically just saved your life…”

  “Maybe,” she said. “You maybe saved my life. Or you got me into worse trouble. How am I supposed to know?”

  “Well, it’s better than nothing. I’m John. This is Quin. How did you get here?”

  “Came through the Gate,” she grumbled, “like it matters to you.”

  “Seriously, relax!” John said sharply. “We’re nice, I promise. I’d show you my honor badge, but one of these kind gentlemen would probably bean me on the head if I tried to reach for it.”

  “Yeah,” she said, “well, I guess I can say that I’m Kate. But that’s all. No more information.”

  “Kate!” John exclaimed. “What a lovely name! Now gentlemen, if you don’t mind, the lovely Isabel has agreed that Kate is with us, so would you mind letting her out of that cage?”

  As if of one mind, everyone marching down the street stopped. The cage was opened, and Kate stepped out. She stretched and turned to John.

  “Thanks,” she said, and everyone began marching once again.

  People swarmed the cobblestone streets. Quin noted that there seemed to be an obvious class differentiation in this world. Those that rode in the litters wore elegant clothing and jewels, and each had an animal of some type. The people that walked wore simple garments and had no animals. As they passed, faces turned to stare, especially at Quin. He stood a head and shoulders over everyone else, and his shiny bald head reflected the light of the suns. John’s clothes also seemed to attract attention. No one around them wore colours brighter than a dull blue. Fingers reached out to touch his spotless white shirt.

  The other thing that he noticed was the style of buildings. The majority of the houses, restaurants, and businesses in the town were built in even proportions – similar to the house in which Meriym lived. The doorknobs were in the center of the doors, the windows were spaced evenly in each quadrant of each wall, and the roofs met in perfect isosceles points. A few of the buildings, however – the ones with columns, elaborate carvings, or other indicators of wealth – did not seem to follow this tradition. He wondered if it was a forced, religious, or voluntary style choice. He guessed that it was not the latter.

  Kate walked in front of them, head held high. Quin could see the bulge of a knife hidden in her garments – at least he assumed it was a knife. As he had no idea where she was from, it could have just as easily been a small firearm of some sort or another type of weapon.

  After nearly fifteen minutes of walking, a huge palace rose out of the ground in front of them. It was surrounded by a tall fence, and strangely-shaped towers rose elegantly from a cluster of buildings. The towers each had five roofs, one jutting out from beneath the previous. The rectangular grey stones rose, layer after layer, from a carefully manicured green lawn. A red stone path led from the gate to a series of steps; at the top sat a large wooden door with faces carved into the surface. Isabel’s litter was nowhere to be seen. As they passed a massive hedge of oddly shaped bushes, Quin reached out and subtly plucked a leaf, slipping it into his pocket.

  “This way,” one of their guards ordered, leading them down the front cobblestoned path, up the massive set of stairs leading to the front door, and ultimately into a huge lobby. The lobby contained two elaborate staircases, one on either side of the room, leading up to a balcony on the second floor. Under the staircases, another large door led farther into the house. A chandelier made of black rock dangled from the ceiling, and benches lined the wall on either side of the door.

  “Wait here,” the guard commanded, moving towards the inner door.

  Quin took a careful look at the room – shiny floor, huge staircases, and lots of glitter. But the stairs were bothering him – they didn’t go anywhere. At the top was a balcony, true, but there was only a wall behind it with no doors, and there didn’t appear to be any halls leading away. Perhaps this was like a false storefront, like the old Western towns on Earth had in the movies John made him watch.

  He turned towards John and Kate.

  “You okay?” he asked Kate. She nodded and moved to sit on one of the benches, a scowl wrapped across her face.

  “How do you know their language?” John asked, turning to look at her. “I mean, if you’re not from here.”

  “I’ve been traveling for almost five years,” Kate muttered sullenly. “You pick a few things up here and there.”

  “Why did you come here?” Quin asked.

  “What are you, Maxim’s governors? I told you I wasn’t going to give you any more information!”

  “It’s fine, I think I can guess,” John said. He sat down next to her on the bench and linked his fingers across his stomach, gazing at the ceiling. She scooted a few inches farther away from him as he began his explanation. “Five years ago you set out searching for something and your search led you through a Door – or a Gate, as you call them. You began traveling through a Gate and then traversing the landscape of each new planet to find the next Door.”

  Kate’s eyes narrowed, and Quin tried to decide if John was hitting any soft spots.

  “One day, you popped through a Door – a familiar one, if
I had to guess – and you ended up not where you thought you should be but on…” he paused, his fingers rubbing his chin, “…probably on a bridge over a red river?”

  Eyes widening, Kate’s body language seemed to relax just a little. “How could you possibly know that?” she demanded.

  “Confused, you popped back through the Door, I mean Gate, and ended up here.”

  At this point, Kate’s jaw was hanging open. “How could you possibly know that? It’s so… specific!”

  “Deduction, my dear Kate, is a man – or woman’s – best friend.”

  Her scowl deepened. “Well, you’re right about some stuff, but I’m not telling you which part!”

  John turned to look at Quin. “You were right, my good man. We’re going to have a serious logistics problem soon.”

  “Not us,” Quin replied. “Committee.”

  Chuckling, John stood up and glared down at Kate. “You may not tell us anything, but we’re going to help you and that’s that!”

  “You tell her,” Quin said dryly. As if it made sense to help someone they knew nothing about. She could be a fugitive, for all they knew. But John, as logical as he could sometimes be, could also be a bit dense.

  To both of their surprise, Kate laughed. It was a sharp change from the angry scowl that had graced her face since their initial meeting.

  At that moment, the large door under the stairs swung open. Isabel stood on the other side with her panther sitting elegantly behind. Kate’s laugh ended abruptly.

  “Do all rich people on this planet have a panther?” John asked, rather impolitely.

  Isabel ignored him and said, “Come this way, please.”

  The three followed as she led them into the hallway. Along the walls down the length of the room, tapestries hung in a row. They featured various men and women with their animals at their sides accomplishing mighty feats. One man grasped a baby in one arm while he held onto the feet of his eagle as they soared just out of reach of an angry mob. An armor-clad woman and a large grey bear held up the pillars of a collapsing building as white-robed women fled in a blatant panic. A young boy and a squirrel hid in the roots of a tree as an invading army burned down a nearby cottage.

  Just past a tapestry with an albino girl and an albino vole digging a hole in a large field, Isabel made an abrupt left through a door. After Quin, John, Kate, and the panther had filed through it, she crossed her arms and turned to look at them.

  “As it so happens,” she said, “my mother is not in the mood for guests, even if you are friends of my brother. That said, you only have two options: you can either fight each other to the death, or you can escape.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa back up,” John said. “I think maybe we might be mishearing you.”

  “You mean I can go from being in a cage into a frying pan?” Kate exclaimed. “This is ridiculous.”

  “In a fight to the death, Quin would win hands down, except I don’t think he could kill me – psychologically speaking, of course—”

  “—and I’m only here by accident, so it hardly seems fair. What did I ever do—”

  “—could just let us sneak back through the Door and no one will ever have to know—”

  “Who is your brother?” Quin said quietly, his voice overwhelming the panicked quibbling of the other two.

  John and Kate quieted, and Isabel laughed.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Her laughed was as painful as ever – the constant grating of industrial Velcro on the side of a pottery bowl. “It’s Wolf.”

  Quin nodded once.

  “Man, that guy gets around!” John commented.

  “I… I know him, too,” Kate stuttered. “He saved me, on that one planet, with the cars…”

  “Earth,” John supplied.

  “Yeah.” Kate reached up and began to twirl a piece of hair. “So can we go back to the two options again – either escape or death?”

  “What kind of woman is your mother, anyway?” John added.

  Isabel spun towards him rapidly, her hair flying and a twisted scowl darkening her angry features. “She is the kind of woman,” Isabel hissed, “who has a companion that is an eight-hundred pound grizzly bear, who could wipe the skin right off of your face with an accidental nudge of his massive paw. She is the kind of woman who has only to look at someone and they cringe and then commit suicide for not being able to read her mind. And she is the kind of woman who enjoys putting strangers into a pit with her bear and watching them disappear.”

  John gulped and stepped back. Kate’s eyes were wide and she had unknowingly gripped the edges of her tunic so that her knuckles were turning white.

  A little vicious smile crossed Isabel’s lips.

  “I hear rumors of your wonderful library,” Quin said, interrupting the now overwhelmingly tense atmosphere.

  “What?” John and Kate both exclaimed, jolted out of their terrified awe.

  He ignored them and stared into Isabel’s eyes. They didn’t have time for these types of distractions, and he hadn’t been friends with Wolf all these years and not paid attention.

  “I don’t think that was one of the options,” John interjected.

  “If you choose to fight to the death, you will be allowed to see the library before you die.” Isabel’s panther was sitting close to her, leaning in and sniffing the air, as if it could taste the three strangers that stood in front of it.

  “We choose to fight to the death,” Quin stated simply.

  “Quin!” John exclaimed. “I hardly think that is a fair determination for you to make!”

  “I don’t even know you two and I can already tell you’re insane!” Kate added. “Don’t you think it makes sense that I should have some say in this decision, since I’m going to die?!”

  “I will return for you in precisely two minutes,” Isabel said. “Prepare to go to the library.”

  “Quin,” John said as soon as Isabel and her cat had vanished from the room. “As much as I love libraries, and I think that we can all agree here that I love libraries and am delighted that I get to be in one right before my impending death, I would have liked to maybe try the escape method first, before agreeing to a fight to the death.”

  “We are,” Quin replied.

  “Are what?”

  “Going to escape.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense! You just agreed to a fight to the death, which, as far as I understand the language we are communicating in, has nothing to do with escaping! It means fighting! And death! And dying! And I have so many plans, so many things to do!”

  “Maybe if you quit whining,” Kate interrupted, “Quin might be able to explain what he means. Because he clearly has a plan of some sort which neither you nor I are aware of, and I for one would like to hear what it is.”

  “I see your point,” John said, “but I just have to ask one thing – will we have time to look around this library before we escape? Because I just had a thought about a book I would like to get my hands on.”

  “Yes,” Quin replied, but before he could say anything else, the door opened again and Isabel stood gesturing for them to follow.

  “The library is one of our favorite attractions,” Isabel commentated as they walked along cold stone corridors, which were covered with hundreds of the relatively disturbing tapestries. “We own over ten thousand volumes, some of which are as old as the city itself. In addition, each time a book comes through the Gate, we confiscate it and add it to our collection.”

  “Glad I didn’t bring any of mine,” John muttered.

  “On the other hand, reading of any sort is forbidden to our people,” Isabel continued, “and as a result, our library is less of a library and more of a prison for literature.”

  She pushed open a rather short and stocky door, which led into a dusty, cramped room. It was dark, even dank, and it smelled of rotting wood. Bookcases filled the room; they stretched from floor to the relatively low ceiling, leaving no space for bats to hang, and were cramm
ed with books of all shapes and sizes. The bookcases seemed to make a maze that led through the library, and Isabel led them down one row, then another, and another. A rat scurried under their feet, and Isabel’s panther didn’t waste a moment, but growled and disappeared into the shelves. Not a moment later, it reappeared, with a tail hanging out of one side of its mouth.

  “This is a terrible place to be housing books,” John commented, and then added in a whisper, “And how are we supposed to get out of here again?”

  Quin ignored him, paying attention to his senses. A slight breeze seemed to be crossing his face every time they passed slightly diagonal rows of shelving, and the breeze carried with it a strange scent. Then, the group stepped into what could only be described as a clearing. It was a big open space in the back of the room, with one tiny window visible near the ceiling. Circular shelves curved along the back wall. A huge table stacked high with books and papers filled the empty – at least in comparison with the rest of the room – space, and a group of teenagers sat at a large round table. Quin squinted. An older gentleman sat among them; he seemed to be directing the conversation.

  “Mr. Oliphant?” John asked, surprised.

  The older gentleman turned around hurriedly, shaking his head to signal John to be silent. He stood up and tiptoed over to them.

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “You mustn’t say my name here. They know me as Professor Q.”

  “Well that’s not a suspicious name or anything,” John commented dryly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I am… I am working, of course. This place…” He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. “…is one of my… my workspaces.”

  His hands were shaking in addition to the stuttering and sweating; Quin wondered why he was so nervous. He glanced at Isabel. Her eyes were blazing and she seemed to be taking deep breaths.

  “Where,” she hissed, “is Stone?”

  Mr. Oliphant gulped. “He is in his office, madam.”

  “STONE!” Isabel screamed. “What are these people doing in this library?”

  A rather short and stocky older man came running out of the maze of bookcases. He was breathing heavily, and wore an atrocious orange and teal argyle sweater and kilt.

  John tsked, raising his eyes at the outfit. “A rather unfortunate example of mixing cultures,” he murmured to Kate. Kate glared and crossed her arms.

  “So sorry, so sorry, madam,” Stone huffed. “It was just for a few minutes, they asked and I couldn’t get them to leave. So sorry!”

  The panther growled and began to stalk forward. The teenagers began stuffing their work in bags, and hustled in the direction of the light breeze Quin had felt earlier – in the opposite direction of the panther.

  “Please don’t hurt them,” Mr. Oliphant pleaded. “They are only children and they are my responsibility.”

  “And he is my responsibility,” John proclaimed, stepping forward and pointing to Mr. Oliphant.

  Everyone turned to look at him.

  “Well, he is! I work for the Sagittan government, and he is one of our citizens, and I apologize to your people for this intrusion. We will remove him from the premises immediately. Quin?”

  The panther was now at Oliphant’s feet, growling quietly. Mr. Oliphant was frozen in place, staring in fear at the large cat. It began to gnaw on his shoe.

  Isabel held up her hand, and the panther abruptly stopped and began to scoot backwards – rather undignified for a cat, but oddly, the movement did not diminish the power of the cat’s presence.

  “In that case,” she said, “you may have your look round the library, and then he shall be sentenced to death with the rest of you. I will be waiting at the door of the library. If you do not return in fifteen minutes, I will send my beautiful warrior after you.” She vanished into the shelves, followed by her cat, who looked balefully over its shoulder at them.

  “So what’s the plan?” John asked.

  “Go look at books,” Quin replied.

  “Don’t have to ask me twice!” John bounded forward and began to shuffle through the heaps of books stacked on the massive table.

  Turning to Mr. Oliphant, Quin scowled. “Where is my father?”

  “I… I don’t…” Mr. Oliphant was quaking.

  “He showed you that book before he left, didn’t he? A Dialogue of Worlds? The one the Committee found in my house?”

  Mr. Oliphant bowed his head. “Yes, he showed me. But I swear I don’t know where he went!”

  “How can I find him?”

  “I don’t know,” Oliphant said sullenly. “And he shouldn’t have left that book just lying around. It’s careless! I would’ve taken care of it for him if he’d asked.”

  “The book,” Quin repeated. Could the book have been a hint telling him where his father could be?

  “You mean this book?” John’s voice cut into his thoughts. He held up a copy of A Dialogue of Worlds. “The illegal one? The stupidly dangerous one?”

  “It’s a different copy!” Oliphant exclaimed, stomping over to John. “It’s my copy!”

  “Why were you sharing it with teenagers then?” John asked.

  “That is none of your business.” Oliphant jumped up and down, trying to reach the book that John held high over his head. Oliphant was just short enough that he couldn’t reach, but still managed to look extremely silly in the attempt.

  “We’ll bring it with us,” Quin decided. “We should go now. Where’s Kate?”

  “She went that way.” John gestured into the shelves.

  “I will find her. Wait here.”

  Quin took off, jogging through the shelves and memorizing the maze as he went. The further into the corners of the library he moved, the darker and dustier it became. Animal droppings of all shapes and sizes covered the floor and the books; holes had been gnawed in the floor boards, and in one corner sat the biggest mouse nest he had ever seen, made of shredded pages of books. The light was dimmest in the far corners, and he could barely see where he stepped. One aisle after another after another, and yet there was no sign of Kate.

  Finally, he began to slow, intending to head back to John and Oliphant, when he rounded a corner and saw Isabel standing before him. He cursed silently as she turned towards him.

  “Are you ready?” she asked. “To fight to your death?”

  Quin froze, staring at her for a moment, and then, reaching out for a bookcase with one hand, said, “I need to go get John and Mr. Oliphant. They will get lost in this maze.”

  “I will come with you,” Isabel stated.

  “I think I will be fine,” Quin replied, keeping his eyes on the cat, who had moved from sitting to a tensed-to-run position.

  “No,” Isabel hissed. “I am coming with you.”

  The panther growled.

  “Well, okay then,” Quin replied, and yanked on the bookcase. It didn’t fall, as he had hoped, but a shower of books came raining down on Isabel and her cat. Quin didn’t waste a moment, but sprinted towards the back of the room. Behind him, he could hear Isabel yelling and cursing while the panther growled and hissed. He knew it would only be seconds before they were chasing him. In front of him, he could hear John and Oliphant arguing over the book.

  “I know it’s valuable,” John exclaimed, “but if this book got into the wrong hands… I mean, what if someone tried to use it? Disaster!”

  “What if someone has already tried to use it, hm?” Oliphant taunted John. “What would you do then? Tell me that, genius boy.”

  John paused. “That is actually a very good question, one which I will have to put some thought into. But not right—”

  “Now!” Quin bellowed, interrupting John’s statement. “The panther is after us!”

  John and Oliphant’s eyes sprang open and surprise, and they each grabbed their bags and took off after Quin into the bookshelves.

  He followed his nose, looking for that strange scent and leading them down the only aisle he had ignored. And there it was, barely vis
ible in the dim light and dusty air: a Door.

  Seconds before they reached it the panther appeared in front of them, growling and baring its teeth. Quin spit on the ground in front of its paws and it began to stalk forward.

  “Um, Quin?” John’s voice quavered.

  All in one motion, Quin leaped forward, grabbing the cat around its neck.

  “Duck!” he hissed, and as John and Oliphant bent down, he lifted the bulk of the animal and tossed it over their heads. Its claws raked against his arm as it flew through the air, and Quin gasped in painful surprise. But immediately, he put the burning wound out of his head, grabbed John and Oliphant by their arms, and bolted through the Door before the panther could come after them again.

  6. QUESTIONING THE BOOKSELLER

  The grey, unforgiving bleakness of Path bled into sight, with the scarlet river blazing in sharp contrast to the unsaturated greens and browns of the rest of the world. The three men stumbled onto the bridge, the hollow sound beneath their feet resounding in the quiet air. A cloud cover blanketed the sky and the same black birds as before drifted eerily overhead, still circling.

  “Why did you bring me here?” Oliphant demanded. “I want to go back to my store!”

  “How do you usually get there?” John asked.

  “Through the Door in Stone’s office, not the random one that you just wandered through.” Oliphant crossed his arms huffily. “This is ludicrous.”

  Quin winced as the cool air of Path brushed against his bleeding forearm. He reached into his backpack and pulled out gauze, wrapping it tightly around the wound. He noticed John deliberately avoided looking directly at the dripping blood, and the effort he was putting into ignoring it amused him.

  “Well, we’ll take you back to Dad’s house, and you can walk to your shop from there.” John was frowning, a rare expression which usually meant he was about to start a tantrum.

  “Not a good idea,” Quin interjected. “Guards. They’ll have them at my house by now.”

  “Where are we supposed to go then?” John glanced at Oliphant and then said hesitantly, “I mean, we only have two choices, right? This one that goes to your living room, or we can head back to Stone’s and go through the one to Oliphant’s bookstore.”

  “Okay, okay,” Oliphant exclaimed. “This is stupid. I know that some of the Doors can go to multiple places, okay? Grise told me. Ended up in your living room a few times myself, by accident.”

  Quin and John turned to look at him.

  “What else did Grise tell you?” Quin demanded. He stepped around Oliphant and placed himself between Oliphant and the Doors.

  “I’m not saying another word until you let me go home.” Oliphant turned his face away and looked over the river.

  “We have to go back to look for the book that Drake has anyway,” John said. “And we’ve been gone for ages. They’ll be looking for us. And I very much want to change my shirt.”

  “Thirteen hours,” Quin agreed. “But we can’t go back.”

  “Oh, so now you want to be here!” John exclaimed, crossing his arms and scowling. “At first you’re all, ‘no, John! It’s a bad idea!’ And now you’re all, ‘we can’t go back yet! I’m having too much fun!’” He made his voice pitch up as he mimicked Quin’s voice.

  Quin rolled his eyes. “I’m not having fun,” he replied. “I want to find Grise.”

  “Well, yes, I can understand that.”

  “And I think Oliphant, here, knows more than he’s saying. We can go back, but not until we find out what he knows.” He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “If we go back, Oliphant has no motive to tell us anything.”

  “Yes, that makes sense.”

  At that moment, Oliphant made a run for it. He jumped forward and tried to duck past Quin. Quin stretched out his arm, and Oliphant’s face slammed into a mass as solid as a brick wall. He dropped to the ground and groaned.

  “How do I get myself into these things?” he muttered, rolling over and clutching his face.

  “Maybe Meriym will let us use her living room to question him,” John said.

  “Get up!” commanded Quin, nudging Oliphant with his foot.

  With much complaining and groaning, Oliphant picked himself up off of the wooden bridge and began to trudge behind John up the path and towards the house. Following closely behind, Quin listened carefully to the world around them. He heard animal sounds, wind, and some rustling in the grass, but it felt as if there was something missing. Like an office without the roar of the heating and plumbing systems. He frowned, still uncertain of the noise that was absent, but decided to put it out of his mind for the moment.

  John knocked on the door of the apparently stone house, and waited.

  “You’re back!” Meriym exclaimed. For the first time, Quin noticed that although the dress she was wearing was simple, it was made of extremely high-quality fabric, and it had exquisite embroidery around the neckline. Her hair was piled on top of her head. Frowning once more, Quin adjusted his focus to their environment. It seemed that Wolf wasn’t home, but Kip was peeking out from behind Meriym’s gown, signing to John.

  John beamed and signed something back. Quin supposed he would have to learn this newly invented language at some point.

  “He has been so excited about the language you taught him!” Meriym exclaimed. “He is constantly telling me things and making up new signs. It’s a good thing I was paying attention to the lessons you were giving him! And who’s that standing with you?”

  Moving to the side, John introduced Oliphant. “He’s someone we found and we were wondering—”

  “Mr. Oliphant!” Meriym exclaimed, suddenly angry. A dark shadow crossed her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  “They dragged me here,” Oliphant mumbled.

  “Oliphant is a bane on the people of this world!” Meriym proclaimed. “What do you want with him?”

  “He has information that we need,” Quin explained simply.

  “Well, you can do it here, but only if you torture it out of him!”

  “Whoa,” John exclaimed, apparently as surprised by this sudden vehemence as Quin. “Why so angry?”

  “Come in and I’ll give you some information about him, why don’t I?” Meriym replied, stepping back so that Quin could usher Oliphant into the living room.

  The room was warm and a fire blazed in the fireplace. Quin noted that Meriym had replaced the yellow blankets on the couch with red ones. As he walked by her, she gave a harsh intake of breath.

  “What happened to your arm?” she demanded. “You’re bleeding!”

  “I’m fine,” Quin said, hiding the bandage against his arm.

  “No,” Meriym exclaimed. “You will let me dress that right now – properly!”

  “Let her,” John said, finally acknowledging the wound. “So we can stop not looking at it.”

  Oliphant stumbled forward as Quin shoved him towards the couch. Quin sat down beside him.

  Meriym returned from the kitchen with a bowl of warm water, clean gauze, and tape. Quin obediently held out his arm so that she could bandage it.

  “How long have we been gone?” Quin asked, as she began to cut off the wet, bloody gauze he had used down by the bridge.

  “Only about eight hours or so,” she replied. “But if you were traveling through the Doors, there is some weird time stuff. One gentleman explained it to me as losing five minutes every time you step through a Door, and if you go through a lot of Doors, that’s a lot of time.”

  John met Quin’s eyes – that had never been a symptom they had experienced ever in the history of Doors. It must be an effect of traveling through the new Doors – an effect of the ten seconds of utter nothingness that was so disturbing and unpleasant.

  Quin noticed that Meriym’s hands, while soft and warm, were deft and calm – she clearly knew how to bandage a wound. She could probably stitch as well, if he had to guess. He pushed these non-pertinent thoughts from his mind and turne
d his attention to Oliphant.

  “You,” Quin commanded, “are going to listen, while Meriym tells us what she knows about you.”

  “Kip, I want you to go upstairs and play while the grownups talk.” Meriym looked up from her work and gave him a stern look.

  Kip scowled, but made his way towards the center of the room. He clapped his hands and a square section of the ceiling slid back. A rope ladder fell down from the center of the second floor. He slowly climbed up and disappeared into the trapdoor. The trapdoor then disappeared as he slid it closed.

  After watching in surprised silence, Quin and John turned their attention back to Meriym.

  “Here’s what I know,” Meriym began, turning her eyes back to Quin’s arm. “He is a henchman of the gentleman who gave me this house, but who has done irreparable harm in the village.”

  “Do you know the gentleman’s name?” John asked.

  “No. We just call him Mr. B.”

  “Hm.” John looked at Quin. Quin could feel his frown growing.

  “Mr. B set this house up for me when he found me bleeding and alone down by the bridge. I was escaping from horrible things that were happening on my planet – a massive war involving many different species from many different planets who could suddenly access my planet, although no one was quite sure why. Many of the refugees came through the Doors on the bridge and set up their settlement here, but when Mr. B came back, they blamed him for the war. So he helped me, but I’m not sure if he’s really kind or not. Maybe he just felt guilty. Anyway, this man was with him, and he went through the town and confiscated all of the books that people had brought through the Doors, including books on medicine and building that we needed!”

  “I think we can get those back for you,” Quin said, glaring at Oliphant.

  Oliphant squirmed and sank deeper into the couch.

  “Well, that wasn’t the last time he came wandering around. One time, a fire just happened to start in the apothecary. Another time, priests started sacrificing animals right after he left. And the last time he was here, he started rumors that me and the others that come and go from this house regularly were responsible for the war back on my planet! Now the townspeople only come here to see Tobias.”

  “Who is Tobias?” John asked.

  “He is a doctor and his base is here. He travels through the Doors to other places that are in dire need of assistance, and then one day a week he sets up shop upstairs and people who need help can come receive medical care.” Meriym straightened her skirts and then finished Quin’s arm. “There you go. It’s too bad Tobias isn’t here. He would do a much better job than me. You should be all set!” She tidied her materials and threw away the bloodied bandages.

  “It’s perfect,” Quin replied, examining her work. He couldn’t have done it better himself, and he highly doubted Tobias could, even if he was a professional doctor.

  She moved forward to sit down in the rocking chair by the fireplace, next to John. Quin turned to face Oliphant, body tensed should Oliphant try to make a run for it.

  “I think it’s time we started asking Oliphant some questions now,” John said, turning to face the short and stocky little old man.

  Oliphant gulped, and if it were possible, sank even lower into the couch cushions.

  “Question one,” John stated. “Who is Mr. B?”

  “Mr. Black, of course. Grise.” Oliphant didn’t seem to mind answering that question much.

  “I guess that’s not too surprising,” John replied. “Question two. What is Dad up to?”

  “I don’t know,” said Oliphant sullenly. “He doesn’t tell me anything.”

  “Question three. How long has he not been telling you anything?”

  This question gave Oliphant pause. “You mean, how long have we been friends? Centuries. How long since he began this silly scheme? About two decades. And I’m not saying another word.”

  “What’s the scheme?” John leaned forward eagerly.

  “I don’t know.”

  Quin cleared his throat and leaned closer to Oliphant. Oliphant looked up at him with a nervous glance; his hand was starting to tremble.

  “Um, well…” Oliphant stuttered. “I mean, I guess it won’t hurt if I tell you a little.”

  Quin leaned in even more closely, until his nose was only inches from Oliphant’s.

  “Okay, okay, so he wanted to share knowledge between worlds and then the Committee didn’t like that so he just decided to do it himself. But that’s all I know, I swear. And sometimes he sends me to fetch books or other literature that he thinks is valuable. And I don’t know anything else. Nothing!”

  “Is A Dialogue of Worlds one of the books Dad sent you to fetch?” John continued.

  “Yes.”

  “Give me some examples of some other books Dad has sent you to acquire.”

  “Umm… mmm… let m-me think. A World in a Stone, and Medicine to Cure the Dawn of Sin, and Stripping the Planetary Core, and um, well, there was Reason and Space Combined…”

  Quin watched as John’s face grew darker. The wrinkles on his forehead grew deeper, and his pupils began to dilate, almost as if he were becoming afraid.

  “…and there was Massive Science of the Third Century: the Planetary Edition, and everything by Vladimir Voskovechev, and Once it Rained Dinosaurs But Not Here, and The Building of Earth: A Documentary Companion…” Oliphant seemed to be getting slightly more comfortable until John cut him off.

  “Enough!” John exclaimed. “This is insane. Most of these books are centuries old, presumed lost to time, or filled with completely inaccurate information. And you mean to tell me that Grise is collecting them?”

  “Y-yes.” Oliphant had shrunk so much at this point, that he was nearly invisible in the couch.

  John looked up at Quin and met his eyes, communicating something very loudly. Unfortunately, Quin was only adept at reading John’s looks when he knew what was going on, and he was clearly missing something here.

  “Meriym,” Quin said. “Do you have any rope?”

  “Of course!” During the conversation, Meriym had sat looking interested, but seemed slightly unsure of where it all was going. “I’ll get it.”

  “Oliphant,” John continued. “I think you should have a serious conversation with yourself about where your loyalties lie. I have known this man for a very long time, and if I have judged him correctly – which I have – he will not hesitate to leave you out to dry should something go wrong. And something will go wrong. Very, very wrong. And that something will be me.”

  Meriym returned with the rope and handed it to Quin. He noticed, oddly, that though she did a lot of work around the house, her hands seemed very soft.

  “Up,” Quin commanded Oliphant, and then guided the quivering man to a straight-backed chair. Quickly and adeptly he wrapped the rope around Oliphant and tied it securely in place. “Meriym, John and I need to have a private chat. Oliphant here shouldn’t cause you any trouble, but would you mind just keeping an eye on him?”

  “Of course,” Meriym replied.

  John had already begun his aggravated stalk towards the back door of the house, and Quin rapidly followed him outside into the grey, lifeless world.

  “We have a serious problem,” John said as soon as the door was shut behind them. “There are only two possible reasons one person would want all of those books. The first is that Dad has suddenly turned into a book collector.”

  This seemed unlikely. Grise had been one of the major proponents of the paperless revolution during the last century, and as a result, only kept around books that were of sentimental value to him. The books that Oliphant was collecting would have no sentimental value to him.

  “The other reason is that he’s using them,” John finished.

  “What do you mean by ‘using’?”

  “Every single book Oliphant mentioned – whether he realizes it or not – is a book about building planets. Now, Pomegranate City, as you know, is one of the only world
s that has the capabilities to do this and we have very strict regulations and rules about it for a reason. One poorly-constructed element could mean a collapse of, well – worst case scenario everybody dies, everywhere.”

  “I am aware of the consequences,” Quin replied. “How do the books relate?”

  “Half of the information in the books is wrong! It would take an extremely educated scientist to be able to decipher which pieces of information are correct and which are incorrect!”

  “A scientist like Grise?”

  “Well, yes. But what if he is giving those books to someone who is not qualified? Oliphant said that Dad wanted to share knowledge, but what really happened is that he wanted to make planet-building a commercial activity. He said that if regular people could build planets, it would be a huge boost to our economy. But the rest of the Committee felt that the risks outweighed the gains.”

  “So you think he’s giving other civilizations the ability to build planets?”

  “Possibly! And I haven’t even mentioned the fact that he seems to have been involved in the Cadrellian war!”

  “Which we know nothing about,” Quin added.

  “We’ll have to stop by there and see what’s going on.”

  “This seems extremely complicated.” Quin crossed his arms and looked out at the massive field that stretched out in front of him. He imagined that a monstrous beast was lying in the grass somewhere, waiting to devour anyone that strayed from the path. It made the grey, lifeless scene before him seem even more dank and depressing.

  “We should also check out the town and see if we can get a vibe on Dad’s plans or whereabouts,” John mused, “or we could see if Wolf has any thoughts on the Cadrellian war. He’s what? On Earth now?”

  “I think we should get the book first,” Quin suggested.

  “What book?”

  “A Dialogue of Worlds, the one Grise left for me in the house that the Committee confiscated.”

  “Why?” John asked.

  “I think it may have been a message for me,” Quin answered. “Remember my fourteenth birthday, when I woke up in the middle of the woods with only a knife and a book? What if this is the same game? But this time he left me a Door and a book.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Quin raised his eyebrows.

  “Yeah,” John said. “My guess is as good as yours – better probably. So we head back to Sagitta, then. How do we get past the guards?”

  Raising an eyebrow, Quin turned back towards the house.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” John exclaimed. “I know how the Doors work – I was just checking to make sure you did!”

  “We’ll go through Oliphant’s door,” Quin decided.

  The two gentlemen stepped back into the house. Meriym was in the kitchen, and Oliphant was still tied to the chair.

  “This is ridiculous,” he was saying. “They could be out there for hours and you’re just going to leave me here?”

  “Yes,” Meriym replied.

  “I’m not exactly a young man anymore. I have back problems! And arthritis! This chair isn’t exactly comfortable, you know, and these ropes don’t help any. You’re just going to leave me tied up like this? In pain and suffering? Old and decrepit?”

  “Yes,” Meriym repeated.

  “Well, I’m going to have a word with Grise about this, I can tell you that for cer—”

  “Oh shut up!” John interrupted. “We’ll untie you ourselves. And you deserve to be tied up now and again!” He walked over and began to untie the ropes binding the old man.

  Quin walked over to Meriym. He reached out and took her hand, palm up, and placed the leaf in it. He watched as a bright smile lit her face, and then he turned, picked up the backpack, and left the house.

  “Wait up!” John called from behind him. “Do you really want me to be the one guarding our prisoner?”

  “One nerd to another,” Quin called back. “And he’s not our prisoner anymore.”

  “Of course he isn’t,” John muttered. “Well, we’re going back by way of your shop, just so you know.”

  “Who would’ve guessed?” Oliphant asked disdainfully. “You treat me like a villain, and then a prisoner, and now you expect me to play host to your crazy schemes!”

  “Remember when we used to be friends?” John asked. “You used to tell me stories, and take me down into your bookshop to bind books together.”

  “Of course I remember! But all my influence didn’t prevent you from turning into a damn bloody idiot, now did it!?” Oliphant huffed.

  “Well, just try to remember me like that when you go to prison,” John spat back.

  They now stood at the base of the bridge.

  “Try to be nice, now,” Quin said. “We don’t want the police coming after us because someone calls in a domestic dispute on Mr. Oliphant’s bookstore.”

  The two men grumbled, but quieted.

  Then, without hesitation, Quin led them up the bridge and through the Door.

  7. A DIALOGUE OF WORLDS

  The first thing Quin noticed as the world bled into view around them was the smell of dusty books, paper and ink, and brown – as if a smell could also have a colour. Mr. Oliphant’s store wasn’t dank and moldy like the one in Isabel’s castle; it was warm and comforting, even if it was run by a madman. This room didn’t have any books in it – it was the meeting room with the table and chairs – but the scent permeated every inch of the place.

  “First things first,” Quin said, directing his attention towards Mr. Oliphant. “You’re going to give back all the books on medicine you took from the people on Path.”

  Oliphant grumbled and shuffled into the front room of the shop. “I don’t have them all, but I’ll give you what ones I can,” he replied. He began to collect books from various shelves and made a stack on the counter.

  “I am going to sneak home and get a clean shirt,” John said. “Meet you back here?”

  “Two hours.” Quin nodded. “Don’t get caught.”

  John slipped out the door of the shop and the little gold bell dinged behind him.

  Turning to face the little bookshop owner, Quin straightened his back and broadened his shoulders as much as he could, deliberately increasing his overall level of intimidation. “We will be using your shop to come and go. You will not stop us.”

  Mr. Oliphant’s face contorted, twisting as he seemed to shrink. “Of course not,” he whispered.

  “If you see my father, as I’m sure you will, you lying sneak, tell him that we will find him and he will wish we hadn’t.” Quin crossed his arms and glared at the terrified bookstore owner.

  “If I see him,” Mr. Oliphant muttered.

  “I want you to put those books in a bag of some sort, and leave them on the counter. I will be back and if you have done anything…” Quin didn’t finish the sentence. He wasn’t planning to actually do anything to the terrified bookseller, since he didn’t have the authority to do so, but most people filled in the blanks themselves. People tended to believe implications as much as or more so than actual statements.

  The tactic was working on Oliphant. He nodded rapidly and wrung his hands, swallowing in large gulps and stuttering incoherent words. Quin ignored the gestures and quickly exited the building, leaving Oliphant’s mind to do the rest.

  The sky was mostly dark and clouds were drifting aimlessly, casually blocking out the arc of the opposite side of the planet, which glowed slightly as it reflected some of the light of the sun. Quin kept to the shadows and made his way carefully and quietly down the street towards the Globe. No doubt the book was in the building, probably locked up – but then again, if it were being studied, it might be in one of the labs.

  Quin frowned as he considered what he was about to do – break into a government building, steal an important piece of evidence, and then take it back with him to some unknown planet. He should have had John come and just read the bloody thing, so they didn’t have to worry about stealing it
.

  The back door of the Globe was a legend, but unfortunately a true legend. A large statue in the gardens – of a naked man with a hedgehog – guarded the entrance. Most of the legends indicated that the other statue – the one of the woman and the porcupine – was where the door was hidden, but Quin and a select few others knew the truth. He walked up behind the statue and pulled a stone out of the wall that contained the water, causing it to split in half and open just enough for someone to enter. The most unfortunate element of this entrance was that opening it caused a waterfall to cascade into the tunnel. Quin ducked in and closed the entrance behind him.

  Rarely used, the tunnel was filled with cobwebs, and of course water. A few emergency lights flickered, creating just enough light for Quin to be sure no one else was down there. Hopefully, at this time of night, the large majority of Globe staff would be out of the building – probably at his house, in fact.

  He was right. As he slipped down the halls of the Globe, all was quiet. He kept to the most disused corridors, and hoped that security had not been informed of his absence. For a moment he was glad that his constant pressure on the Committee to increase the quality of the security systems and security staff had not yet been heeded. The next lab was the artifact room, the most likely location for the book to be hidden.

  He pressed his ear against the door – the room wasn’t large, and only the artifacts that were being worked on were left in here. The rest went in the vaults. He seriously hoped they were working on the book. The other side of the door was silent, so, taking a deep breath, he quietly pushed open the door.

  It was empty, but the tables were piled high with all kinds of junk. The artifacts team must be working on a big project. He began to peruse the tables; one had a massive machine on it that looked a bit like an oddly-constructed robot. Another table was stacked with little metal cubes – mountains of them. Another table had papers scattered across it, and pens that used ink made from the Madroquelo trees on Patrilnor. Everywhere he looked there were books, papers, utensils, and stuff. This mission had been a poor decision – they should have travelled to Cadrelle to learn more about the war.

  As he wandered through the tables he grew more and more impatient, and more and more tense. The longer he spent in this room, the higher the risk of someone coming in and catching him. He could only hope that if someone did walk in, it would be students doing late night work, and not Drake, Tom, or another Committee member.

  He was about to give up when he noticed an empty table in the back of the room. That was odd. The other tables were covered with artifacts, but this table was empty. Walking towards it, he paused, listening. Did he hear something outside the room? Rapidly speeding up, he headed quietly towards the table. When he was only a few feet away, he heard another sound – this one was definitely from outside the door. He darted forward and ducked underneath the empty table, hoping that no one would make their way to that corner of the room, and then wonder why a Committee member was hiding under a desk.

  “She’s such a prick,” a voice said as the door to the room opened. It was female, but low pitched. “She thinks she can just tell us all kinds of crap and forgets that we might actually be intelligent, too. I mean, we’re here after all.”

  A second voice chimed in. “She used to be nice, I swear.” This voice also sounded female, but was higher. “She started being witchy when she got involved with that new wacko group – the Life Stars?”

  “Yeah, the ones that think that magically, after centuries of an entire civilization not believing in God, he’s waiting for us to come back.”

  Quin listened intently. Their steps seemed to be moving towards the opposite side of the room.

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” the second voice replied. “I think people can believe whatever they want. But I do have a problem with her attitude. She can’t go around acting like we’re stupid, and that anyone that doesn’t share her beliefs isn’t valuable as a person.”

  “Where did all that religious stuff come from anyway? I know it’s recent, but…”

  “It actually started as a political movement. I was reading about it today.”

  “Politics turned religion. How… fitting.” The first voice pitched irony.

  The desk over his head was of odd dimensions, Quin noticed in the back of his mind. He felt like he was hunching down more than he needed to be, but he didn’t dare straighten up, in case he bumped his head and the students heard him.

  “A bunch of people wanted planet building to be legal commercially, and not a closed science.”

  “But it’s not even, I mean, we can’t have people going around making planets all over the place! It could disrupt the universe’s equilibrium.”

  “Well, that’s why the government has held it down lock and key. But people say it’s because they want to keep the profits for themselves.”

  This conversation was interesting. Quin remembered hearing about the Life Stars in the news – they were making quite a splash, doing demonstrations all over Pomegranate City and graffiti-ing in public bathrooms. They had also been causing fights everywhere deliberately – like the ones he had cleaned up on the train.

  The first voice seemed a bit louder and Quin could hear footsteps. Were they moving towards him?

  “Did you grab the artifact?” she asked.

  “Yeah, it’s right here,” the second voice confirmed. “We just need the papers.”

  “You know, my dad got caught up in one of those fights the Life Stars have been starting all over the place. He says they have people planted to start an argument, so they can claim they were just acting in self-defense.”

  “How is that supposed to help?” the second voice laughed.

  “I don’t know – you’re the expert!”

  Both students laughed, and a moment later, Quin heard the door open and shut. He held his breath and waited a few minutes to ensure that they didn’t come back in. Then he looked up at the desk and noticed one key feature: a drawer. No wonder the dimensions had seemed weird.

  He opened it and there lay the book.

  To steal it or not to steal it? He still had not come to a conclusion about this.

  Then the door to the room burst open loudly.

  Quin froze, tensed and ready to fight.

  “I knew you’d be here!” John exclaimed. He now wore a black button-up shirt with a green tie. The tie had little monsters all over it, with googly-eyed buttons that opened and closed when he flopped the tie around. “Why on Sagitta didn’t you ask me to come with you? You know we can’t steal it.”

  Frowning, Quin looked down at the book in his hand.

  “Luckily, you have me!” John reached into his bag and pulled out the other copy of A Dialogue of Worlds. “We can just swap them.”

  A broad grin spread across Quin’s face. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

  “Oh, I like to see those!” John exclaimed, waving his hand at Quin’s face. “It’s a rare day in paradise when you actually smile.” He strode over to the empty desk and handed Quin the second copy, taking the first and slipping it into his over-the-shoulder leather bag – which was apparently not too hard on his suit.

  “Do you think they’ll notice?” Quin asked.

  “Not at first,” John said, “but if they’ve started cataloguing already, they’ll notice when they do their second read-through. But let’s not worry about that. Hopefully we’ll be back by then anyway.” He opened the book and flipped through the first few pages, stopping on the title page.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “Leave it to Dad to put our messages in code. And one I don’t recognize. We’ll have to do this later.” He shook his head and looked up at Quin. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught.”

  Quin nodded and led the way to the door of the room, and took a left. It figured that they would go to all of this effort, only to not be able to read the message. Why couldn’t Grise have used the code from Quin’s childhood? They would have understoo
d that.

  “Where are we going?” John whispered.

  “Secret tunnel,” Quin replied. “Do you think you can figure out this message?”

  “I hope so,” John replied. “But honestly, I don’t know. Looks like he’s made up a new one.”

  Quin ducked through a utility door and pulled open a panel behind some brooms, and the two gentlemen scampered into the recesses of the Globe building.