(I’ve been fired, Lenora remembered the weeping Aaliyah telling her earlier.)
“New librarians have been hired as well.” Malachi looked at her intently. “Some of them you have met before.”
Lenora understood, though she almost collapsed at the thought that the Forces of Darkness were working as “librarians” now.
“But one must adapt, Lenora. There is still much work to be done. In fact, there is more to be done than ever before.”
Lenora was not sure what she could say and what she couldn’t, so she asked tentatively, “What should I do, then?”
“As it happens, you’ve shown up at exactly the right time. I have an extremely important task, and therefore you are precisely the right librarian to handle it.”
Lenora’s heart swelled at the words, but she was worried she might let Malachi down. After all, she still did not fully understand what was going on.
“I would like you to go to the Philosophy section as quickly as possible. There, you will find a girl, ten years of age. It is vital that you help her.”
Then Malachi reached out her palm, revealing a familiar object—a metal fob the size of a domino, dangling from a necklace. A Tube key. Lenora took the necklace and with great solemnity put it over her head, leaving the key to dangle just next to her badge. Then Malachi opened a drawer and removed an object that Lenora knew quite well—her old notebook! She grasped it eagerly and flipped through, seeing that all her notes were still there. She dropped the notebook into one of the large pockets that she had begun insisting be included on all her dresses, along with a couple of sharp pencils from a box on the desk.
While Lenora did this, Malachi wrote something on a piece of paper. (Her desk was neatly arranged with several stacks.)
She held up the paper to Lenora. On it Lenora read:
YOU MUST REMEMBER THREE THINGS. THE FIRST IS YOUR OATH.
Lenora remembered. Do you swear to follow the librarian’s oath? Do you swear to work hard? Do you swear to venture forth bravely and find the answer to any question, no matter the challenge? Do you swear to find a path for those who are lost, and to improvise and think on your feet and rely on your wits and valor? And, do you swear to oppose the enemies of knowledge with all your courage and strength, wherever they might be found?
She had given a solemn “I do” to every question, then done her very best to stay true to her promise.
Next was this:
THE SECOND THING—NEVER LIE TO HER, LENORA. NO MATTER HOW MUCH EASIER IT MIGHT MAKE THINGS IN THE TIMES AHEAD, ALWAYS TELL HER THE TRUTH.
Lenora said nothing, but gave a firm nod, which Malachi returned just as firmly. Though Lenora did not know exactly who “her” was, it seemed very likely it was this mysterious girl in the Philosophy section.
And finally:
THIRD: HELP ZENODOTUS!
Lenora had no idea who that was either, and though she wanted desperately to ask, she knew she could not.
“Now go,” said Malachi. “Make a left and head all the way to the end of this hallway. You’ll find a door that says DO NOT ENTER. Go through that and you’ll find a Tube station nearby.”
Lenora nodded, and knowing there was, as usual, no time to waste, dashed out of the office and down the hallway at a dead run.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lenora Leans In
Lenora was nearly out of breath, wondering if this hallway would go on forever, when she finally saw the door marked DO NOT ENTER at the end. And when she pushed through she knew she was back in the real Library at last.
She was on a high balcony overlooking a long room that went farther into the distance than she could see. Its floor was divided into lanes of water, sort of like a swimming pool for racing, but the lanes were divided by solid floors in which massive metal gears were set. The gears churned slowly, for what purpose Lenora could not say. The lanes of water had gondolas moving along them. Most were empty, but a few were steered by librarians holding long paddles, and had books piled in them.
To her left, she heard the familiar whooshing sounds coming from what could only be a Tube station. She turned and noticed something even stranger than this room. Where before there had been bookshelves, now all along the walls were computer monitors, dozens upon dozens of them. And all of them were showing the same thing—a pasty-faced yet handsome man in an expensive-looking suit and tie, a man with perfect salt-and-pepper hair who looked as though he might have stepped off a movie screen. He seemed to be giving a speech. Lenora listened.
“… as you can see from the changes around you, I’ve been keeping my promises as Director. The Library is making money for the first time…”
Making money? thought Lenora. Libraries didn’t exist to make money. And then a tremor went through her. The man’s voice …
“… and patron fees for Library use have been lowered under my leadership…”
Lenora recoiled. Patron fees? Patrons had never paid fees. Libraries were free! And she was beginning to remember where she had heard this voice before, talking about the Library making money …
“… as we continue to trim down our excessive and expensive book collection…”
And Lenora remembered.
His voice.
She’d heard him through a listening tube before, talking over Malachi and interrupting the Chief Answerer whenever she tried to speak:
… The Library simply isn’t making money … (Lenora remembered well Malachi’s reply, that the value of libraries could not be counted in money) … run it like a business … get rid of the unprofitable books …
Now Lenora knew who Malachi must have been speaking to. The Director. The man on the monitors.
She shook herself, realizing that she had no time for this mystery quite yet. She had to get to the Philosophy section as quickly as possible. So off she flew in the direction of the whooshing Tube station.
As she ran, she heard snatches of conversation from various patrons, to her dismay:
“The Library is changing, but he says he’s making it better…”
“Making money is good, isn’t it? But I do wonder how people will pay their fees…”
“He seems to know what he’s doing, though it is a bit harder to find books these days…”
But then she reached the Tube station, and her heart leapt at the sight of the old familiar tubes, wonderful as could be—giant, rugged glass cylinders, bound in rings of sturdy copper, capsules within them shooting past, whisking librarians to their destinations all through the vast Library.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Something was wrong. Lenora looked around. There was one other librarian waiting for a tube. A tall, tall man in a heavy black overcoat that went down over his shoes, whose head was slowing turning toward Lenora. In one hand he held a basketful of books and in the other a box of matches.
This was not a librarian. She could somehow simply sense it, the prickly feeling no accident. The man was now staring straight at her, and something slithered up the side of his leg, under his coat. Lenora headed straight for a tube on the other side of the station, head high and chin up, ignoring him completely. When a capsule arrived, she hopped up the steps and began to climb in. Just then, the man called out to her.