We were on Labrimar, one of the three core worlds of the Swrun Empire. We were here in search of anything that could tell us about the location of Shkiwahlke, the planet where beings encased themselves in metal. We hoped that they could give Clint his arm back. There was only one problem. No one seemed to know anything about it, never having even heard of it. So Clint and I were wandering the bowels of the Great Library, the greatest collection of knowledge in the galaxy, searching vainly for anything, a scrap of a page, a rumor, a whisper of a rumor, that could point us in the right direction.
The dim red lighting did not lend itself to easy viewing, but it would be difficult to lose the hulking mass that was Clint Stone in anything other than total darkness. Clint had gotten annoyed with the lack of lighting, though, and grabbed a lantern off the wall and carried with him. Clint and I had wandered these stacks, soaring high above my head, for hours, travelling deeper and deeper into the library. We had looked everywhere we could think of for information on Shkiwahlke. Sections on the history of the planets, ancient myths, abnormal civilizations, even the census. Nothing had given us anything we could use.
Clint sighed in frustration. I was nearly as frustrated as him. We jahen are not meant to wander dark, enclosed spaces and we had been here, enclosed by the walls of wood and paper for hours upon hours. We passed through one of the rare reading rooms, spaced at irregular intervals. Everything else in the Library was nothing but books and shelves, extending for miles in either direction and up and down. One could almost get lost in here.
This reading room contained an oddity. There was a being seated at one of the tables, hunched over a table, a stack of thick books beside him and one particularly large volume resting on the table in front of him. As I watched, he raised a finger and flipped the page. A few seconds later he did it again. And again. There was no way he was reading that fast, was there? My foot scraped against the ground and the being looked up.
He was old, but not that old. He still had some dark hair among the grey and his face was not as lined as it could have been. He was one of the j’Kiune race, with long curling ears and a wide mouth, filled with rough plates for grinding plants. His heavy lidded eyes blinked and I could see the pale slit pupil narrow, adjusting to the light from our lamp. He placed a thin rod of what looked like wood in the pages of his book, fingers long and slender, and shut it, focusing his full attention on Clint and me. He stood from behind the table and made his way ponderously over to us. I thought we should have kept moving, but the old man had a presence about him, that made you want to stay and watch him.
“What do we have here? Visitors? It is unusual for beings to wander so deep into the Library.” His voice was dry and whispering, much like the books he had surrounded himself with. “What brings you so far below the sun?”
Clint opened his mouth to answer but the old j’Kiune lifted a finger and put it to his lips, quieting him. Clint seemed taken aback. No one touched Clint Stone without his consent, not those who wished to have unbroken bones, but this old man had acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Let me guess,” said he said, peering at us with his great yellow orbs. I felt his eyes travel up my body, looking at me, and then through me. Though I knew it was impossible, I felt like this j’Kiune had pulled back my skin and flesh and was looking deep into my soul. I shivered under the look. I wanted to move, but that gaze held me transfixed, unable to twitch. I was glad when his gaze fell on Clint.
The old man’s eyes travelled up Clint’s body, starting from his boots. The being’s gaze past over Clint’s waist, to his arms, where it lingered on his stump for a moment then moved on. He stared at Clint much longer than he had at me. I could see Clint feeling the same thing that I had, the being’s eyes peeling back the outer layers and gazing on your innermost center. The j’Kiune blinked and stepped back, to get a look at both of us.
“You are searching for Shkiwahlke,” the being proclaimed. I inhaled sharply. There was no way that this being could have known that. Clint shared the sentiment.
“How the hell did you know that?” he asked in a thundering voice. The being raised his finger to his lips.
“Shh, you are in a library,” the dry, papery voice admonished Clint. He continued. “It was not a difficult observation to make. You are wandering in the Great Library, the largest collection of knowledge in the galaxy, perhaps the universe. But information can be found in many places. Only the most rare and difficult to find information draws people here. Therefore the information you seek is not easily found. You are missing an arm. Very recently, based on the way you cradle it to your body. You are still getting used to it being gone. No doubt you have heard of the planet where the beings are made of metal.”
“Yes,” interrupted Clint, “but no one else seems to have.”
The being blinked at the interruption, then continued speaking as if nothing had happened. “So, missing an arm and looking for hidden knowledge. It is not that far of jump to the truth.”
I shook my head in amazement. Clint had a different reaction.
“So you’ve heard of this place. Do you know how to get there?” he asked, anxious.
“No,” said the being. Clint’s shoulders slumped, his head bowed. It was back to trotting the shelves again. “But I know where you can find out.”
Clint looked back up. The being raised a hand, cutting off anything Clint was going to say. “But you must give something to me in return for this knowledge. You must tell me something I do not know and I will tell you something you do not know.”
Clint opened his mouth to argue, but I quickly spoke, not wishing to ruin our chances at getting the information we needed. “There is a plant in the Dfre system that can taste sweet or salty depending on the color of the sky.”
The being looked at me. “This I did know. Try again.”
I was startled. The planet had been discovered by Clint and me, when we were hiding out from the Frugen Hunters. There was no way this being knew about it. “Prove it,” I said. “What color must the sky be for it to be sweet, and what color for salty?”
“Blue for sweet and red for salty,” he answered as soon as I had finished asking the question. I stared in amazement.
“There is no way you could have known that,” I said when I had found my voice.
“I know many things, I am the Librarian. It is my job to know things,” the being said in his dry, whispery voice.
“You’re a librarian?” Clint said. “Then isn’t your job to help us find books?”
The old j’Kiune shook his head, a careful motion. “I am not a librarian, I am the Librarian. The librarians are upstairs, shuffling about, touching the books but not learning from them. I am the Librarian, I learn from the books.”
I realized what the being was saying. He was a library-ian, a being who was a library, a collection of knowledge. I looked at the Librarian, who was standing there, waiting for us to tell him something he did not know. I tried again.
“When the seed of the Casdeu plant sprouts, it emits a chemical that turns the ground into radioactive material for years in order to drive off predators.” Even before I had finished speaking, I knew that he would know that. The Librarian shook his head. “Again, you tell me something I already know. Pray you find something I do not know or you will be wasting your time.”
I tried again, and again, and again. Every time the Librarian knew it and finished my fact before I did on several occasions. I grew more and more frustrated as time slipped by, and more and more amazed at the depth of knowledge this being possessed.
Clint clenched his jaw and then spoke in a growl. “Do you know what it feels like to have your family murdered before your eyes and being helpless to do anything about it? Do you know what it feels like to be alone in the universe?” The being shook his head, eyes looking at Clint with curiosity. “Then let me tell you.”
Clint leaned in close to the Librarian, whispering in his ear. I could not make out what he was saying, but saw the Librarian’s eyes widen and his face grow pale. When Clint had finished speaking, the Librarian nodded his head. “This I did not know. Come with me, I will take you to the book of Travels.”
He walked off into the stacks and we followed. I wondered at what Clint had told the Librarian that would make the knower of many things, which certainly included war and torture and murder, pale and upset. I knew that Clint would not tell me and so I kept quiet about it. We followed the Librarian through the winding shelves, going ever deeper into the heart of the Library.
The Librarian stopped suddenly and pulled a book off the shelf. I did not know how he knew it was that book, a book identical to the other thousand books we had just walked past. I noticed the title on the spine: The Book of Travels, volume 3056. I looked back at the shelves we had just walked by. The reason the books looked the same was that they were the same book, just different chapters. My scalp prickled when I realized how much had to have been written to fill three thousand and fifty six volumes.
The Librarian flipped through the book at lightning pace, the pages creating a gentle breeze. They came to rest on a page, filled by a single paragraph. Clint grabbed the book and looked at the writing. He squinted.
“What the hell language is this?” he demanded. “What does it mean?”
The Librarian sighed. “It means that you will find Shkiwahlke in the Stihr Wahr system.”
“I thought that system was destroyed when its sun exploded, taking the planets with it?” I said.
The Librarian looked at me. “Not destroyed, only misplaced. The planet you are interested in floated off into space and is now orbiting the star of Dahth.”
“Now that, I know how to find,” said Clint. “I thank you for your help and bid you good day.”
He turned around and walked back the way we came. I thanked the Librarian as well and hurried after Clint. I could feel the Librarian’s strange, penetrating eyes follow me until I turned a corner and was lost to sight.
We spend about an hour trying to find our way out of the Library, finally finding it behind a stack of books and get back to Susan. We took off and Clint set a course for Shkiwahlke.