“When he’s done.”
Ken shook his head. Okay, it was a really weird dream. He was ready to wake up when he heard that the mystical librarian and his metal friend were Three Stooges fans. Not that he didn’t like the trio, but it’s just not something he thought he would run into there.
Once the laminator warmed up, Peter put Ken’s card through it, and then handed it to Ken.
Ken was immediately curious. It looked like a normal library card. It had his picture, name, address, and something that read ‘ACCESS TYPE: All Non-Restricted’ along the bottom. It even had a barcode and holographic image to prevent counterfeiting.
“I don’t think I told you my address.”
“Well, we were expecting you.”
“Expecting me? I don’t get it. Do I know you?”
Peter shook his head.
Nathan took over. “Mister Goldwrite, you’re in a very special place.”
“I kind of gathered that.”
“But you think you’re still dreaming.”
Ken scratched the top of his head. “Look at it from my point of view. I’m in a weird library, you two know my name, and I was just handed a library card. Why wouldn’t I still think this is a dream?”
“I won’t argue that point. But you’re not the first to have that very same reaction. Peter and I have seen many people come here over a few millennia, and almost all of them have the same reaction.”
“Millennia,” Ken echoed. “This library has been around that long?”
Peter tilted his head left and right, signaling that Ken was sort of right. “It might be hard to explain, but this library exists at only one point in time. You see, when all of the knowledge of the universe exists at once, it can’t have an age.”
“I don’t follow.”
“If it contains this kind of information, it can only exist at a special place in time. Perhaps I should say it’s at the end of time, or maybe it doesn’t even exist in time at all. How about that?”
Ken could only give him a blank stare. He was in way over his head.
Peter nodded at Ken’s look, knowing what he was thinking. “You may not understand it now, but eventually you will.”
Ken quickly shook his head to get rid of the confusion. “Let’s change topics. Is anyone allowed here?”
“Anyone is allowed here, but not everyone should come here. Most can’t get here on their own. And then there are people like yourself.”
“Why’s that?”
“It has to do with your genes and destiny. Some people who have a predisposition to manipulating space-time, or have a sufficiently life-changing experience can arrive on their own.”
“Maybe it’s the latter.”
“Oh. Your tenants?”
Ken put his hands up defensively. “Would you stop doing that? It freaks me out that you know this much.”
“My apologies,” Peter smiled.
“Do other people come here? I mean, bring others along?”
“Sometimes. However, Mister Goldwrite, I must ask that you use discretion. Not everyone needs to come here. You can bring those you choose, but please use your best judgment.”
“Fair enough.”
“Are you going to check any books out?”
Ken looked around at the sea of the bookcases. “I wouldn’t know what to start with!”
“Well, how about your tenants? I doubt you’ll be able to pull down their individual books, but ones about their home planets might be useful in the long run.”
“Okay. So, how do I get them?”
“Follow me.”
They walked to the left side of the dais, where there was a long platform about thirty feet long and ten feet wide. They stepped onto it and both faced one direction.
“Okay. Now what?”
“Just picture in your head what you want to find out more about.”
Ken thought about who he encountered first. That would have been Cassandra. What planet did she say she was from? Talsonia? Talsenia?
Instantly, bookcases rose to the side of the platform and started to fly by at incredible speeds, flipping, turning, circling, and then stopped. The bookcase was as long as the platform.
“Whoa,” Ken breathed.
Peter chuckled and walked back to his desk.
Ken walked along the bookcase in front of him. There were multiple copies of several books about Talsenia.
TALSENIA: TOPOLGY, VOLUME I through IV.
TALSENIA: CULTURE AND ATTITUDE.
TALSENIA: A PRIMER.
TALSENIA: THE TALSENIAN TONGUE IN A HUNDRED EASY STEPS.
TALSENIA: FICTION, POETRY AND ROMANCE, VOLUME I through X.
TALSENIA: MILITARY HISTORY, VOLUME I through XXX.
Ken looked closer. Volume thirty!? They must have liked their military history.
The ‘Primer’ volume seemed as good a book as any, and he pulled it from the shelf. He brought it back to the desk, where he handed the book and his card to Peter.
Peter used a barcode scanner attached to the computer to scan his card and the book. He returned both to Ken. “It’s due back when you finish it.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Oh, and by the way, your card and book will disappear when you get back home. Just ‘think’ about the book and concentrate. It’ll appear right in your hand.”
“How do I get home?”
“Nathan will escort you out. Later, you’ll be able to come and go under your own power.”
“This way, Mister Goldwrite,” Nathan said, gesturing to the stairs.
Nathan walked down the stairs, followed by Ken. Nathan was light on his feet, despite his size. He opened the double doors at the base of the stairs, and they both went through.
At the center of the waiting area, Nathan held out his arm, palm forward. Something like a long key protruded from his palm, and Nathan pushed forward ever so slightly. Part of the key disappeared into mid-air, and Nathan’s entire arm rotated clockwise.
Ken heard a ‘click’ in his head.
Nathan pulled his hand back and a swirling green whirlpool appeared. “Through here,” Nathan offered.
“Thank you.”
“Be seeing you, Mister Goldwrite.”
And Ken stepped through.
* * *
Ken heard the sound of something cutting through air, steps on grass and regular movement. The sounds pulled him from his sleeping state, and he looked over at his clock.
6:00 AM.
“For heaven’s sake,” he muttered. “No one better be gardening this early.”
Ken normally woke up at seven o’clock, so he got less than his usual dose of rest for the night. He tried to get back to sleep, but curiosity got the better of him.
Walking into the living room after having dressed, he noticed everyone was still asleep. He made extra care to not make noise for Katrina, who was sleeping quite soundly on the top of the cabinet in the living room.
Going out to the driveway, he saw Cassandra in the back yard, swinging her sword around in obvious exercises. It was almost like an elegant dance. Ken watched while standing next to his car. It was a few moments before she realized he was there.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning,” he replied. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. You just don’t see this much around here.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she said, and added, “Do you always wake up at this time?”
“Not really. I usually get up at seven o’clock. Do you always do this kind of exercising?”
“No. I would normally spar with my mother every other day. This is nothing compared to what I go through with her.”
“Is she cruel?”
“No. I think ‘intense’ would be the term.”
Ken had an idea. An insane idea, but an idea nonetheless. “Just a moment.”
He went back into the house and looked in the co
rner behind the door. His umbrella and a steel pipe were there. He kept the pipe around just in case someone tried to break in. He grabbed it, and went back outside to where Cassandra was waiting.
“Do you practice?” she asked, looking at the pipe.
“Not at all! But I’ve seen plenty of movies.”
Ken took a position ten feet away from her.
Mentally, she laughed. He didn’t have his feet apart far enough, his stance was wrong, and he was even holding his weapon wrong. Regardless of what techniques this planet had, his was nothing that could be considered effective. It probably didn’t even occur to him that she had a very sharp piece of metal, while he had a very blunt piece of metal.
Ken nodded. “Okay, let’s star—”
Clang!
The pipe flipped out of his hands, clattered against one of the clothesline poles farther out in the yard, then fell to the ground. Ken realized that all she had done was take a large step forward, and smacked the tip of his pipe with her saber.
He stood there, looking at where the pipe landed. “Setting aside the complete lack of skill on my part, that was embarrassing.”
Cassandra chortled. “That it was.”
“It’s even more embarrassing when you agree.”
“I’m sorry,” she lied, trying to stifle a bigger laugh.
Ken fetched the pipe and started walking back to the house.
“You’re done already?” she asked.
“Yep. Pride can only take so much in a day. Besides, I have breakfast to make.”
Cassandra followed him. “What are we having?”
“A traditional American breakfast. One I haven’t had in a long time.”
“A long time?” she echoed.
“Yep. Without much money, I’ve lived frugally.”
“You could always skip breakfast,” she suggested.
“Nope. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get fat.”
“I usually skip it. I don’t get fat.”
“Alien physiology, maybe?”
* * *
It was the smell of breakfast that woke the tenants. It had been a while since Ken had a full-fledged breakfast. Eggs, toast, sausage, bacon and pancakes.
Pancakes, in particular, were significant – the pancakes themselves weren’t special – because Ken had learned to make them from an animated short he had seen when he was younger. It involved a duck, listening to how to make pancakes from a program on the radio. The duck’s recipe turned into a disaster, leading to the duck making a trip to the radio station to beat the announcer senseless. The recipe worked when done correctly, and led to nice homemade pancakes.
The first one up was Katrina. She fluttered out into the kitchen, landed on Ken’s head, and laid down, looking over his brow.
“What are those?”
“Pancakes.”
“Pan . . . cakes? As in a cake in a pan?”
“I guess you could call it that.” Ken flipped the one in the pan. The visible side was a nice, golden brown.
“They’re too big. I can’t eat one like that.”
“I’ll make some small ones. Come to think of it, I’m at a loss to find utensils for someone of your . . . um . . . petite stature.”
“I didn’t think to bring any with me,” she moaned.
“We’ll find a way. Maybe a doll shop has some. I don’t know if there’s one in the area, so I’ll take a look in the phone book after lunch.”
“A doll shop?”
“Yeah. They sell smaller items for dolls. Maybe we can get something in your size there.”
Katrina hovered back into the living room. Ken glanced up and saw Cassandra watching him.
“Smells good,” she said.
“Of course it does! Have a seat at the table and I’ll bring out a plate. What will you be having?”
“A little of everything.”
“A little of everything, coming up!”
Cassandra sat at the table, and Ken brought out her plate with her order.
“Katrina, I have some mini pancakes for you.”
She flew back into the dining area and sat on the table. He served her on a saucer. Ken tried to make them smaller, but they still looked like the size of garbage can lids next to her. She picked up the top one from the stack of two and started eating.
The remaining tenants showed themselves, one by one, and had their own breakfasts. Ken found out that pancakes were a big hit with alien females. That aside, he was surprised at the amount of food they took in. He wondered where they put it all. He knew Cassandra burned calories training, and Katrina was probably like a hummingbird, but it remained to be seen what the rest of them did the calories. He had an idea where all of Angelica’s nutrients went, but there was no way to be certain.
Boing.
Maybe it really was alien physiology.
“What are we going to do today?” Natalia asked in a rather expectant tone.
“Good question. I guess I’m the chauffer, so I need to know where you all are going to be working or going to college. Speaking of which, I need to make a few phone calls. We’ll do it all after lunch, so you’re more than welcome to watch television or get yourselves more acquainted to the house. Rearrange the furniture in your rooms if you want.”
“I need to do shopping for clothes and additional items,” Natalia said.
“Do you have a lot of American money?”
“My father’s company set up a bank account for me here. Transfer of funds. Gold seems to be valuable here, too.”
“I don’t think you have just a few items on your mind, so we’ll put that on the schedule for tomorrow.”
Natalia sighed.
Ken rolled his eyes. “I have a little gardening to do, so just sit tight for a while.”
* * *
Ken took Cassandra, Alisa and Angelica to their bases of operation for work and study, with Katrina along for the ride. Cassandra and Alisa were taken to the college and Angelica to the hospital. Workers had been expecting them to show their faces at one point, even for just a quick greeting.
Angelica attracted attention – more so because of her wings than her looks – but she appeared to ignore it. Ken felt that even though she seemed unconcerned, she was becoming self-conscious about the stares. It was good that they were only there briefly.
Alisa, on the other hand, was completely in her element at the college, and Ken, Cassandra and Angelica had to physically drag her away from the equipment in the electronics lab.
Cassandra knew only one Earth language and briefly visited the staff in the linguistics department . . . who all happened to be out for a late lunch.
“So much for that,” she said, leaving her contact information, and they left the campus.
“One last thing to do. It’s on the way home,” Ken said as he pulled out of the parking lot.
They drove for a while and pulled into a residential area. Ken stopped in the driveway of a medium-sized, two story house with a sign in the front yard that read ‘Matilda’s Doll World.’
Cassandra glanced from the sign to Ken. “A doll store? Do you have a hobby we should be aware of?”
“No, you screwball! It’s for Katrina!”
“Yeah!” Katrina followed up.
After they all got out of the car, Ken opened the side door of the store near the sign. Bells attached to the door chimed, and inside was a medium-sized room. It was lined from floor to ceiling with shelves, and had lots and lots of dolls, doll accessories, and even more dolls. A glass counter was along the right wall with a cash register on it.
A woman who had been dusting shelves turned around to see her prospective customers.
“Oh my, this is unexpected.”
The woman was about five and a half feet tall, with brown hair in a ponytail that was pulled over her shoulder. She wore glasses, and was clothed in a dress with an apron over the front.
Ken nod
ded to her. “Well, my associates here are some of the visitors you may have heard about on the news.”
“Why, yes. So, are you looking for items for your doll?”
“My doll?”
“The one on your head,” she said, pointing to the top of his head.
“I’m not a doll,” Katrina moaned.
The woman took an immediate interest. “How adorable!”
“Isn’t she!?” Angelica agreed.
Ken mentally dubbed the woman ‘Angelica #2.’
“If you haven’t taken a guess yet, I’m Matilda, the owner. What can I do for you?”
Ken looked around. “The truth is we’re looking for utensils for my friend. She can’t eat well without some smaller items.”
Matilda nodded. “I see. I think I have just what you’re looking for.”
She led them over to a shelf where there was a doll-sized dining set – for four – neatly packaged in a velvet box with a clear, plastic cover.
Matilda picked it up and handed it to Ken. “This is a specialized, hand-crafted set, made locally. The dishes and tea cups are made of real porcelain, the utensils are real metal, and the glasses are, frankly, real glass.”
Ken took a look through the plastic. The pieces were very well made; they looked like they were the real thing, only reduced in size. Ken moved his thumb and saw the price tag.
His eyes almost leapt out of his head. “I know you said the items in here were real, but is this price real?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. Truthfully, I used to sell out of them frequently. I actually reduced the price by fifteen percent, since business has been slow in the shop lately.”
Ken’s thoughts yelled out at him. Business was slow, and it was still THAT much!? Holy heaven! It was a quarter of Ken’s property taxes for a whole year!
Ken glanced over to Katrina, who was looking at some dolls that were about her size, and she seemed completely unnerved by inanimate objects the same size as her, looking as though they were living.
He sighed. “I’m glad I went to the bank two days ago. Looks like I have to go back today or tomorrow. I’ll take it.”
Matilda thought for a moment. “Tell you what. You help me out some, and I’ll help you out. How’s that sound?”
He was skeptical, but willing to hear her out. “I’m listening.”
“The doll market has boomed, so there are shops dotted across the city. As you know, the more stores an area has, the greater the competition, and that goes double for specialty shops like mine that also do online orders. Follow me so far?”
Ken, Cassandra, Alisa and Angelica nodded, with Ken adding, “Go ahead.”