Empire: Book 2, The Chronicles of the Invaders (The Chronicles of the Invaders Trilogy) (18 page)

CHAPTER 32

T
he many libraries in the Marque were as daunting as they were inspiring, with shelves of books stretching as high as the vaulted ceilings in the hollowed rocks and stone cathedrals of Avila Minor, the ceilings themselves often covered in even more shelving, hanging above like square bells attached to chains in the rafters. The least-used volumes stored up here could be winched down on request via an ancient pulley system. It was rare that they were asked for, though, for the chains screamed and rattled, and those waiting below feared the entire system might collapse on them at any moment. As much as the Sisterhood revered books, they still had no desire to be crushed to death by an avalanche of them.

Even the main Novice library in the Twelfth Realm was a thing to behold, serving not just as a small but impressive museum of literature from across the known universe, but also a prime example of design genius. Behind the visible shelves on the walls were hidden more shelves, and behind these even more shelves, opening up like the pages of a huge, solid book.

On the main floor, towers of glass-doored cabinets held volumes that couldn’t be shelved: words carved on stones and tablets, written on scrolls of papyrus, scratched onto chunks of carefully marked bark; documents chiseled into crystals as long as an arm, and forged onto sheets of metal; records tooled onto rolls of tough hide and softest leather; and even words almost invisibly imprinted on fragile, clear membranes from distant planets, only making any sense when held up to the light so that the shadows of the lettering stretched onto the floor.

One of Syl’s and Ani’s favorite cabinets was filled with the jewel-like remains of long-dead insects from a distant world, balanced delicately on pinheads, their sparkling wings splayed open to reveal the mysterious, minuscule messages set down like a sprinkling of talc on the tiny glittering scales, and only readable through the high-powered magnifying glass that hung on a chain from the locked doors. Even then, they made no sense at all, and the civilization that had created them was long gone.

“Spells,” said the old librarian Onwyn, when Syl had asked. “It’s all superstition, hocus-pocus, and spells, but still in the Nairene Sisterhood we understand that all knowledge is illuminating. Yes, young ones, even such primitive notions merely serve to cast the perfect truth in better relief.”

Syl had pressed her on what this might mean, but instead of answers, Onwyn had simply swept her frail arms wide, indicating the books.

“Inside books you will find all the answers,” she declared.

“But what if we don’t know the questions?” Syl had responded, and Onwyn had looked at her oddly, her head cocked to one side, and thereafter a cautious friendship had begun between the old Sister and the reluctant Novice.

But today Syl and Ani bypassed the otherworldly butterflies, the skins, and the crystals, for they were looking for just one thing: a reference to Archaeon. First they typed it into the computerized index system, hoping to find a cross-reference, but that drew a blank. This was hardly surprising since the constant influx of material meant the catalogs were always somewhat out-of-date, especially here in the Novice library, where it fell to the youngest and least experienced to maintain them.

Of course, Onwyn would have known where to look, but Syl wasn’t willing to entrust Elda’s secret to anyone from the Sisterhood, not even doddering Onwyn.

Instead, Syl and Ani moved to the rear of the library, where they pored over the big old reference books—the Illyri equivalent of encyclopedias—which dated back many centuries, and were as heavy
and unwieldy as boulders. Some covered geography, both the terrestrial study of various explored planets and the mapping of the heavens above. Vast volumes cataloged notable Illyri, or famous battles, or the botany of the known worlds in microscopic detail, or the sciences, or history since the beginning of time. The lists were alphabetical, which made the task somewhat easier, but still the volumes piled up around them like a fortress. Nobody asked what the Earthborn Novices were searching for, or why. Here the pursuit of knowledge was expected, and classes had finished, so the library was flooded with eager Novices anxious to prove their worthiness and dedication. Asking why a Nairene Novice might be reading would be like asking a trainee chef why she was studying a recipe: because it would be poor form not to.

•  •  •

Hours later, Ani closed her latest book—a plodding tome on the bacteria, fungi, and algae of the Galatean planetary system—with a determined thump.

“Syl,” she said, “this is not working. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, or if it even exists. I’m fed up.”

Syl mumbled something inaudible and continued studying her own bulky book, entitled
Celestial Geography
, which listed all the asteroids, planets, stars, systems, nebulae, and galaxies in the known universe, along with a short description of each. It was the latest imprint, so thick that she had to stand up to see it comfortably.

“Ani, could you pass me an earlier edition of this please?” she said, still not looking up. With a small wail, Ani flopped face-first onto the table, waving her arms dramatically.

“
Why
, Syl? Can’t we just
go
now?”

“Please. It’ll take just a second.”

Ani stomped over to the shelf, clattered up the ladder, and took down an older edition on celestial geography. She dumped it in front of Syl then sat down again, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. Syl leafed quickly through it, then she stopped and jabbed at an entry.

“There!” she said.

Ani sat up. “Did you find it?”

“No—but here’s
Ashkyll-2
. I knew it!”

“What? Actually, forget it—I’m not even going to ask what you’re talking about.”

Syl ignored her, and carefully marked the page before dragging down another volume, which was older still. She opened that one too, flipped through the alphabetized list, and then looked up, grinning.

“Right. Let me explain,” she said, pretending she hadn’t heard Ani’s theatrical sigh. “In the latest edition of
Celestial Geography
, they mention a planet known as Ashkyll-3. But there’s no Ashkyll-2 or Ashkyll-1, which seems a bit odd.”

“How so?”

“Because why would they name a planet number three if there was no two or one? Anyway, so I looked in the older edition you gave me, and surprise surprise, there it is”—she opened the book to her marker—“
Ashkyll-2!
Why would it be in an earlier edition, and not a later one?”

Ani shrugged. “Maybe it died?”

“Planets don’t die, Ani—they’re not stars. And then in the earlier edition there actually
is
a listing for Ashkyll-1, and for both the other Ashkylls as well.”

“I don’t get it. What are you trying to say?”

“There’s a page missing, Ani, I’m sure of it. In every volume. Look—the older volume goes from
Arbia
to
Ashkyll-1
, yet this newer one goes from
Arbia
to
Ashkyll-2
, with no mention at all of Ashkyll-1. Then this third one has both Arbia and a planet that’s not in the others at all, called Arcdarrit, and then it leaps straight to Ashkyll-3.”

“But what has that got to do with Archaeon?” asked Ani, baffled.

“Well, think about it; they’re the planets that would be listed on either side of
Archaeon
in alphabetical order, if Archaeon was originally included in these books. So if you took out the page referring to Archaeon, chances are you’d also lose a few references that were on the same page, or overlapped, like
Arcdarrit
, and
Ashkyll-1
. You see?”

Ani looked at the page, flipping it backward and forward lightly, then she glanced up, pursing her lips as she considered it. Frowning, she turned to the other books on the shelf beside them, climbing even
higher up the ladder and taking down the oldest volume she could find. Syl watched in silence as Ani thumbed through it.

“
A
for
Arbia
,
A
for
Arcdarritt
 . . .”

She looked at the next page then back again. Then she spoke in a whisper.

“And then
A
for
Ashkyll-3
. Oh my . . .”

“Exactly!” said Syl. “And we’d never have noticed that those planets were missing if we hadn’t seen them in the other volumes.
Archaeon
would fit right between
Arcdarritt
and
Ashkyll-1
!”

The friends stared at each other, wide-eyed. Ani bit her lip.

“What now?” she said in a whisper.

“I don’t know but, just to add to the weirdness, you remember that book I was reading,
The Interplanetary Pioneers
—the one about the early explorations?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, the last chapter of that is missing entirely. When I looked next to the spine I could just make out where the pages had been sliced out.”

“Why would someone do that?”

“Well, at first I thought someone was just too lazy to copy them down, so tore them out, that it was just stupid vandalism, but now, looking at these books”—she waved a hand at the volumes splayed before them—“I’m wondering if it’s more than that, if there’s some sort of censorship going on.”

Ani nodded thoughtfully.

“So what we need to do to test this theory of yours is get hold of another copy of that book,
Inter-
whatever-it’s-called. If both are missing the same pages, then we know there’s something very odd happening.”

“Good thinking. And we know the Marque has lots of libraries, and lots of books, and that there are multiple copies of the non-rare books. I found
The Interplanetary Pioneers
forgotten behind a shelf where it shouldn’t be, but maybe there are more, perhaps even right here. So what if we were to ask . . .”

“Onwyn,” they both said together.

• • •

After they’d replaced the reference books Ani went to find Onwyn alone, for Syl was worried that if she asked and the old librarian checked on the computer system, she’d see that it was Syl who had withdrawn the book in the first place.

“I beg your pardon, Sister Onwyn,” said Ani, all big-eyed innocence and old-fashioned manners, while Syl watched from a distance.

“Yes, Novice?” said Onwyn, not unkindly.

“I’m looking for a book and I was hoping you could help me?”

“Of course. What is it you seek?”

“Why, a volume that was recommended to me by a friend:
The Interplanetary Pioneers
, I think it was.”

Onwyn’s face split into a wide smile, revealing her old, peglike teeth yellowed between her thin lips.

“Now, that’s a title I haven’t thought about in years!” she said. “Excellent choice, my dear. It’s a wonderful book, but I’m afraid it rather fell out of fashion when the explorations moved further afield. I’m most delighted it’s being sought out again.”

She hobbled over to the computer, talking partly to herself: “Now at one stage we had four copies, I believe, but we gave one of everything to the new library in the Seventh Realm. Well, hardly new anymore. Why, it must be sixty years since it was constructed. So that would leave three . . .”

She tapped slowly on the screen, clearly not entirely at ease with the modern system.

“Yes,” she said finally, “we have three, but one has been checked out by a, er, Syl Hellais, so there should be two remaining.”

“Syl is the friend who recommended it, Sister,” said Ani.

“I know Syl. She has excellent taste”—Onwyn beamed—“but do tell her it’s overdue. Right, follow me.”

She took Ani over to one of the chains that hung from the ceiling, cordoned off by a rope barrier, and gave the thickest one a mighty yank, putting all of her frail form behind it. There was a faint squeak and Ani stared upward in horror, but nothing moved.

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid you’ll have to help me,” said Onwyn, pushing Ani gently toward the chain. Ani took it in her hands, her face contorted with worry, and gave a tiny jerk.

“It won’t bite you—just give it your hardest tug! Put your back into it.”

Looking like she might throw up, Ani did as instructed. There was a piercing screech from high above them and a cloud of dust puffed down. Throughout the room everyone turned to watch, squealing and stepping to the corners and out of danger when they saw what was happening, until Ani and Onwyn stood in the middle of the floor all alone.

“Again,” said Onwyn. Ani pulled, and there was another screech. This time a lone book plummeted down, narrowly missing a glass cabinet before it landed with a sharp crack on the floor, exploding pages and more dust. Several onlookers yelped in fright.

“Fear not. That always happens—just keep pulling!”

Ani yanked again, and again, and slowly, loudly, a massive old-fashioned shelf was lowered to the floor, teetering a little wildly, shedding another book or four on its way.

“They’re meant to have netting on them to keep the books in place, but it rotted away over the ages. I suppose we should replace it,” said Onwyn to nobody in particular, though the entire room was listening.

Finally the shelf came to rest on the floor beside Ani, and a collective sigh of relief went up as another cloud of dust came down. Gradually, everyone went back to what they were doing as Onwyn began fingering the books lovingly, blowing dirt off them. She moved around, peering in close, her lips moving as she read the titles, occasionally stroking one affectionately. After a few minutes she pulled two books from the shelf.

“Here we are.
The Interplanetary Pioneers
—two copies, as I thought. Would you like to withdraw one?”

“Yes, please.”

“Superb,” she said, moving to put the final copy back in place, but then she changed her mind. She smiled at Ani once more, all the pegs glistening, her tongue peeping through.

“And you know what. I think I might just take this copy for myself. It must be the best part of a century since I last read it, and I remember it being such a favorite of mine when I was a Novice.”