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“To: Runit Happerman, Head Librarian, Portland Public Library. From: Multnomah County Board. The Board has been notified by the Aylantik Government that the Portland Library will be permanently closed ten days from the above date. A meeting will be held on the Field today at ten-hundred to resolve pending issues. Closing will be facilitated by the AOI.”
A dusty old plaque hung on the far side of his cramped office. He hadn’t read it for years, but suddenly it had new meaning.
“I doubt very much the guys they’ll send in to do this are readers,” Nelson said. “Of course they won’t miss ten percent. How many books are down here in storage?”
“Blaise got this done pretty fast,” Runit said. “I know what you’re thinking.” “Yeah, that he probably designed the system that the AOI used to find the books they changed in the first place.” “He might have.”
“Thank you, Runit.” Her bright smile faded to a softer one before it retreated altogether. “And I . . . never properly acknowledged your wife’s passing. I didn’t understand, you see.” Her eyes teared.
“Why here?” Runit asked. “Because this is what Deuce sent.” Nelson laid four sheets of 11x17 paper on a table. “They’re all the KEL locations that impact the library.”
“Long story.” “I’ve got time,” Runit said. “No, you don’t,” Nelson said. “Well, it’s just she knows stuff about AOI and KEL that I’ve never heard before,” Runit said.
Deuce realized he would probably not be getting much sleep that night, maybe not much until Monday. And somehow, even with the CAAP issue erupting tomorrow, he needed to get as many of his people surreptitiously down to that library as possible.
Grandyn and his band of TreeRunners were working so fast that Runit thought they might actually pull it off. The young crew did even more once the library closed for the day, when they could crank the music.
Alone again, Runit chastised himself for allowing Grandyn to be involved. His late wife, Harper, would have seen it the other way. “Kids need to live, take chances, learn at their parents’ side,” she often said. “I don’t want our son growing up sheltered and afraid.
“You’re right, Vida,” Runit said. He checked his list and saw an easy section ahead ‒ history. There were a ton of books in there, close together. “You two split up again, like you’re supposed to be, and we’ll have a little contest. First one to a hundred books.”
“How could there ever be a real moral reason for war?” Harper would ask rhetorically. “It always comes down to someone’s greed. History is populated by the distorted tyrants and corrupt businessmen willing to trade a cup full of blood for a purse filled with gold.
