Trapped

Ulysses stepped in front of me and addressed the head librarian.

“We’re here for the Cax–”

“I’m sorry, Captain Ulysses,” Peter interjected. “I am not here to discuss why you are here. That you are here is evident. Library protocol is clear. The hierarchy of needs first and foremost concerns those belonging to the royal house. I therefore ask again. What business does House Greymoor have at the Infinite Library?”

The Pirate King’s eyes snapped to mine.

“Tell him,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Captain Ulysses,” Peter repeated. “But coercing a member of the royal family is ill advised. Please stow your hostility. It’s for your own good.”

Ulysses looked like he was about to draw his weapon, which meant I had to step in for his own safety. I placed a hand on the king’s twitching shooting arm.

“I’m here for the Caxton Manuscript,” I said. “I heard that it was housed here on Hadrian.”

“You heard correctly,” Peter replied. “The Caxton is in fact here. Is this House Greymoor’s purpose for today’s visit? The last sixty seven visitations have concerned matters of gene splicing and cloning. Has House Greymoor’s interest in such matters declined since then?”

“Correct,” I lied. “I’m to be the last of my kind.”

“So be it,” Peter nodded. “Right this way everyone. Please stay close. It’s much too easy to get lost.”

The head librarian motioned to the grand door leading into the library. Inside, a hallway of lights blinked on.

An ocean of tomes greeted us in every corner of the library. The shelves soared to the top of the dome and arranged themselves in a neat, metropolitan grid. The drones from outside filled the air traffic, storing and replacing books in their portable crates.

“This way,” Peter said. “The Caxton rests in the isolation ward.”

“Just so you know,” I said. “We’re here to take the Manuscript with us.”

“I am aware, Lady Greymoor,” Peter replied. “The librarians have been preparing for this for quite some time.”

“Preparing?”

“As you know, my Lady, the imperial library lives outside of any jurisdiction,” Peter explained. “It was built as a self-contained, self-sufficient ecosystem, to ensure that it could not be politically silenced. As a result, the librarians, myself included, are given license to make executive decisions about what the library is and is not allowed to lend. Or give, in this circumstance.”

I shot Ulysses a skeptical look.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is too good to be true?” I thought aloud.

“I’m sorry?” Peter said.

“Did you tell the Federation that the Caxton is here?” I demanded. “Are you Nemura’s source?”

“I see,” Peter nodded. “You ask if we’re accomplices to the Federation’s schemes concerning the Chalice of Time. We are not. We are interested in offering the Caxton for a separate, but equally meaningful purpose.”

“Which is?”

“Abdication of responsibility,” Peter said. “The Caxton will be an important centerpiece of a war that the Infinite Library has no interest in fighting.”

“You still haven’t answered Elaine’s central question,” Diane said. “Did you inform the Federation of the Caxton’s location?”

Peter paused. He was human, but the way in which he took a moment to contemplate a direct question reminded me too much of someone we had recently met.

“We did not,” Peter finally said. “But like the Federation, we are interested in seeing the Caxton outside of imperial space. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“How convenient that everyone wants to give us the Caxton but not to, I don’t know, the soon to be King of Caerleon,” I glared at Ulysses again.

“Your suspicions are understandable,” Peter said. “However, the Infinite Library refuses to house the Caxton Manuscript for another generation. If you won’t take our offer, then it will be the next person, no matter how unappetizing they may be.”

“We go,” Ulysses said. “We’ve come too far not to see it through now.”

“Lead the way,” I sighed.

At the other end of the dome was an arch. The entire span of it was suffused with an aura of swirling turquoise.

“Through the dimensional gate,” Peter ordered. “After me. If this is your first time, it will feel… a little strange.”

Peter entered the archway. From a casual viewer’s perspective, the head librarian did not simply disappear. His entire body disintegrated into small particles, like the blue light was some kind of death ray. Ulysses and Lucia stepped forward, then stepped back.

“Well, let’s not all jump in all at once,” Diane scoffed. “Come on Elaine.”

The two of us stepped through. Peter had scared Lucia and Ulysses unnecessarily. The feeling was akin to that numbness when you’ve slept too long on your arm, except spread all over the body. It was uncomfortable, sure, but it subsided quickly.

Diane and I arrived at the other end of the gate, another long corridor. From the height of the ceiling, I guessed that we were in one of the taller spiral towers of the library. A skylight beamed down sunlight.

“Where are the others?” Peter asked.

“You scared them,” Diane replied. “We’ll have to wait for them to summon the courage to come through.”

“Meet me at the end of the hall then when they’ve arrived,” Peter said. “There’s a drone I must attend to.”

The head librarian left us alone. Diane gazed up at the shelves.

“Why go through with all this?” I asked. “Ulysses has put us all in danger. It’s obvious, and you just let him do it.”

“If you haven’t noticed, Elaine, I am not the commander of the fleet,” Diane said. “Where Ulysses goes, we go.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Maybe,” Diane shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“You’ve been strange since Ulysses revealed his plan,” I said. “You’re not yourself, and neither is Ulysses. Neither is half the crew. Everyone looks like they’re at the end of something. I’m sick of being the last one to find out what the fuck everyone else already knows.”

The arch behind us began to glow. Someone was coming through.

“We are at the end of something,” Diane sighed. “But that end doesn’t concern you for now, Elaine. You’re thinking about all the wrong questions again. Everything else will be revealed in time, I promise.”

One person stumbled through the dimensional gate and threw herself into my arms.

“He tossed me. He fucking tossed me through it,” Lucia sobbed.

“Are you still alive?” Lucia’s wristband sputtered with static. “Hello?”

“Fuck you,” I snapped.

Ulysses stepped through.

“I thought you would do anything for the manuscript,” I sneered. “What? Afraid of a warp gate?”

“It could have been a trap,” Ulysses shrugged. “Where’s the librarian?”

We followed Peter’s instructions and met him at the end of the hall. There, waiting for us, was another swirling dimensional gate.

“No!” Lucia cried.

“The Caxton is in the isolation ward on the other side,” Peter said. “Please follow me.”

“Lucia, come with us,” I rubbed the poor woman’s shoulders. “You’ll be fine. It just tingles a little.”

Together, we crossed the threshold of the second gate into the next room. Ulysses stepped in after us, that coward. Unlike the other two corridors, the isolation ward, as Peter had called it, contained no books at all. It was an empty vault. We stood in a hollow chamber surrounded by jointed metal walls.

“Looks like a prison cell, almost,” I murmured.

“An apt description,” Peter said. “A fitting place for a relic like the Caxton.”

Peter pointed. A spherical object hung at the center of the vault. Ion beams from four generators near the ceiling crisscrossed and formed a protective matrix around it.

“It will take time to undo the library’s locks on the relic,” Peter explained. “Please hold while I–”

A menacing blare roared throughout the vault. A dark, oscillating red light washed over us.

“That’s the proximity alert,” Peter frowned.

“I fucking knew it,” I rolled my eyes.

Peter waved his hand in the air. The red lights blinked off and the clamor of the alarm diminished. Holographic emitters around the room hummed to life, allowing the head librarian to bring up a digital display.

“There are subspace signatures,” Peter said. “Look.”

The display expanded to fill the vault. A video feed from a series of probes showed subspace tunnels emerging on the far edge of the system. The number of them was staggering. There had to have been thousands. To my knowledge, only Caerleon possessed fleets of that size.

Then, the first ship appeared, and something wrangled inside my heart.

I remembered when Knight Captain Gawain taught me his last lesson, when I boarded Noble Interception all those years ago and watched from the comforts of a lounge aboard a capital ship as my mentor rained fire on the people of Kapur.

I remembered a flag, blowing in a breeze laced with cinder and ash. The pole leaned on a bed of debris. The people of Kapur would later rise up against the Caerleon Imperium. They fashioned themselves, rightfully I think, as victims and painted themselves as freedom fighters resisting the power of giants. As a result, the people of Kapur always had a knack for striking paradoxical imagery, the portrayal of prey slaying the hunter.

Upon the hull of that first ship, painted clear and bright, was an eagle gripped by the fangs of a snake.

The Rebels of Kapur amassed at the edge of the system. More and more ships emerged with every passing second. I recalled the size of Morgan’s fleet. They were now outnumbered by the rebels two to one. Then three to one. Then four to one. How long had they hidden a fleet of this size from the imperium?

“Why are we just watching this?” Ulysses said. “We need to get out now.”

“Quite right,” Peter nodded. “Forgive me. It will take some time to undo the locks on the relic and–”

The video feed from the scouting probes snapped to static. There was a loud buzz, the sound of tears and disjointed cries, then silence. The screens held black for just a moment, and then a face appeared.

It was a mask. Demonic horns protruded from the edges. Dark narrow slits obscured the eyes, while the cheeks and brow were painted with illustrious ornamentations. A man’s voice boomed from behind it.

“Greetings, Caerleon and its surprise guests,” the mask declared. “You may call me Manhunter. I represent the voice and demands of the people of Kapur.”

“How’s he broadcasting on Caerleon frequencies?” I asked.

Morgan’s portrait appeared beside Manhunter.

“So the Rebels of Kapur have come knocking on Hadrian’s door,” the witch smiled. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Manhunter. This makes two surprise visits in one solar day. How can we assist you?”

“You can assist me by handing over the Caxton Manuscript,” Manhunter said.

“Did he just say the Caxton Manuscript?” I asked.

“He did. He did say that,” Diane nodded.

“Work faster on those locks,” Ulysses demanded.

“That’s not the problem,” I shouted. “Does everyone just know that the relic’s here on Hadrian? This is the worst secret of all secrets.”

“Either that or we were just sold out,” Diane shrugged. “Ulysses?”

“Get the relic. Get out,” Ulysses growled. “The mission hasn’t changed. This is Ulysses to Kindred–”

“I’m afraid the mission has changed.”

Manhunter’s visage distorted and vanished. Morgan’s portrait filled the vault. The dimensional gateway whined and shut down. Ulysses wristband fizzled with static.

“Effective immediately,” Morgan said, “None of you will be leaving until the battle is over.”

“How did you shut off the gateway?” Peter asked. “When did you assume access to the library controls?”

“When you allowed one of my ships to land, head librarian.”

Peter stared at us.

“That dropship didn’t belong to you?” he asked rhetorically and turned back to Morgan. “This breaks all relevant protocols, Lady Pendragon. It also is futile. You cannot seal the accessways forever.”

“Of course,” Morgan bowed. “But by then, my men will have dealt with the rebels and assumed positions around the library. You may escape, but I doubt the others wish to flee with their comrades held hostage.”

“What’s your goal here?” I snapped.

“I’ve had a change of heart, Elaine Greymoor,” Morgan said. “Don’t be worried, dear, you and I are actually aligned on this. You see, I loathe my brother. You do too, I imagine, after the disastrous events of your exile. Upon seeing you, I felt deep pity, and I’ve decided to act on both of our behalfs. I will hold you here and use you as a political prisoner to get back at him. It’s a good deal, Lady Greymoor.”

“You’re insane,” I breathed.

“Call me what you will,” she glowered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a band of rebels to kill.”

Morgan’s video snapped off. The lights in the room dimmed. The ion beams surrounding the Caxton faded.

“I’ve disassembled the locks on the relic,” Peter said. “We can retrieve it after I reactivate the dimensional gates. This will take some time. Please excuse me.”

Peter left to tinker with the gateway, and the rest of us were left to contemplate our circumstances.

“Great,” Diane growled. “Any contact?”

“That bitch severed communication in and out of the library,” Ulysses said. “I can’t reach anyone, let alone know if they’re still alive.”

“We’ll just have to trust Friede and Emiko and the others,” Diane shrugged. “No point in avoiding the issue. We’re trapped.”

“And who could’ve seen this coming?” I rolled my eyes.

“Not helping,” Ulysses said.

“Yeah, well, tough luck,” I scoffed. “How many times did I tell you this was a bad idea? How many times did I beg you not to come here? I was your trump card in this whole affair? Not anymore, asshole. Guess what? I’m going to be Morgan Pendragon’s trump card now.”

“Elaine…” Diane started.

“No. I’m sick of you all holding secrets from me,” I yelled. “Why is the Caxton so fucking important? What do you need the Chalice for?”

Lucia, Diane, and Ulysses all shared between them a knowing glance.

“So you do all know something,” I muttered. “Come on. Spit it out.”

Diane sighed. She stretched her arms and sat down. She stared at Peter, who tapped against the metal frame of the warp gate and scratched his head.

“We do have time, Ulysses,” she said. “No point panicking over what we can’t control. What’s the harm now? And from the looks of it, you can even tell her the long version of the story.”

“Will she even believe it?” Ulysses asked.

“Try me.” I said.

“Fine,” Ulysses sighed. “I have one condition. Just one.”

“Take your blasted secret to my grave?”

“No,” Ulysses shook his head. “Just don’t interrupt me until I finish. Lucia, break out the tea for everyone.”

I nodded in agreement. We sat in a circle along with Diane. Lucia rummaged through a knapsack for a thermos and passed around cups of hot beverages. Ulysses took a sip. He stared at the ceiling, as if he was an author looking for the perfect first sentence.

Then the Pirate King began his story.