“I’ve never been in there myself,” Harvey read, “but you may wish to venture in. So I’ll tell you exactly what Meri told me, in his dying words. As was told to him by his grandfather, and so on. The door is hermetically sealed. Nothing has been inside since the last person, which I suppose makes sense. What I mean is, it hasn’t been opened in thousands of years, if records are to be believed. And I have no idea if what is inside will function or not.
“I was always told that what’s inside is the key to bringing the Earth back into a technological equilibrium. That to only enter it if you are prepared to usher the Earth back to an age of change. As you might imagine, I never believed that my job was to bring the first age back to our people by any means except through my stories. Maybe I should have though. Maybe Pippa and Zelda would still be alive.”
“No,” Harvey read, squinting at the words. “Ultimately, the decision is yours to make. Chances are, whatever is in there will have eroded or expired. And the only thing that kept my ancestors from opening the door was superstition alone.” Harvey took a breath.
“That’s all you need to know, Cleo. I trust you will know what’s best for the library. Sending my love. Gnochi Gleeman. Oh, and don’t forget to see Rolly about storing his collection of books in the library. As you can imagine, I never got around to that either.”
“Cleo?” Harvey spoke, though his voice sounded quieter than a whisper.
“I am going to open the door,” she said, approaching it. Cleo rested her hands on the brass handle, feeling heat from its tarnished surface. The handle, like every other surface in the library, was caked in dust.
“Are you sure?”
“Gnochi’s right. It’s probably nothing.” She squeezed the handle and turned her wrist. The door clicked and opened of its own accord. A rush of air sounded as the chamber’s seal was broken. Inside, Cleo saw a clean environment. Bright overhead lights lit the room. A screen of monitors lined one wall, as high as the ceiling.
Cleo and Harvey entered quickly. The same hum of vents sounded above them. It was warm enough that Cleo unwrapped the baby from its bundle around her chest. The pair approached the center console, the sole feature of the room other than the monitors. They examined the keyboard. It was a pristine white color, untouched by dirt, wear, or time. Cleo pressed a button at random. Harvey too, pressed another, though nothing happened.
“I figured,” Cleo said, blowing air out of her mouth in defeat. “Whatever was in here is long dead.”
“Cleo, look,” Harvey pointed to a button that was blinking with a blood-red light. The letters on the button read ‘INCMG MSSG.’
“We’ve come this far.” Cleo pressed her finger into the blinking key. As it fell flush with the keyboard, the blinking stopped. Cleo released the button, though for a few moments, nothing happened. A loud noise, uniquely foreign to their ears, sounded. The main screen flickered to life, fluttering with lights. Cleo and Harvey watched as a bar filled.
As it neared one hundred percent full, Harvey whispered to Cleo, “I’m here for you, no matter what.”
Cleo stepped back as all the monitors became one. A bizarre picture filled the entire screen. It was a teen boy pacing around an odd room. He looked clean shaven and prim, yet his face held a weight that betrayed his stress. The boy wore clothing that Cleo had never seen anyone wear before. It looked odd and hugged weirdly to his skin. He seemed to notice them from afar, then ran toward them, his face filling almost the entire surface of the screen.
“What is that?” Harvey gasped.
The young man on the monitor broke into a giant smile. His eyes flickered between Cleo, Harvey and the baby. Finally the teen sat back so his whole head and torso filled the screen. The boy’s lips moved, but no sound came out.
“Is he a mute?” Cleo asked.
Several seconds later, a sound boomed through the room.
“Hello.”
The End
Acknowledgments
With the Gleeman’s Duology complete, I wanted to take a minute to thank those who helped me at any point in the process.
First, as always. Here is to my three pillars. I would not be a reader or a writer without your foundational support.
My betas and early readers deserve a special mention for following Gnochi and Cleo on their journey. Steve, Sarah, Joe, Joe-Pete, Barbara, Tom, Gabby, Pawan, Frank and Ant!
To Gabriella Padilla, whose artistic ability continues to amaze!
To you, my readers. For what use is a story if not to be told? Thank you for reading. Time is the most valuable resource, and to have earned your time is a true honor. If you enjoyed reading The Gleeman’s Tales Duology and want to know what’s coming next, I’ll give you a hint. The Humanity Edict. It is a standalone, robot science-fiction novel that follows a group of rogue robots trying to do the impossible, resurrect humanity in a post-human Earth. The adventures of Adamantine the robot will be coming soon!
My final thanks go to Sara, my permanent alpha. You are my number one!
[Exit, pursued by a bard.]
About the Author
Matthew Travagline was born and raised in the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York. He likes to think that the odd assortment of jobs he has worked during his tenure as a human (including: on a farm, in retail, as a park ranger, and in cybersecurity) has prepared him for writing about fantastical settings and futuristic quandaries. Find him on most social channels (Twitter: @MattTravagline; Instagram: Page_1_Bard; Facebook: Fantasy Author Matthew Travagline). Alternatively, visit his website matthewtravagline.com and keep updated through that medium. And if you made it this far, Matt would implore a review from you if such would not tax you too much. Reviews, aside from ink and unmarked journals, are the lifeblood of any independent author and boost their standing in the mighty algorithm of life. Any and all are appreciated.
The Harbinger of Change Page 30