Niko climbed the stairs to the tenth floor of the hotel, the backs of her legs burned from the exertion. There was an elevator bay but it had long fallen to disuse, it simply required too much electricity to operate. So the stairs were in constant use as hotel staff and Circle members alike traveled up and down all twelve floors of the hotel.
Well, not all twelve. In her recent exploration of the building, (she was slowly feeling the effects of cabin fever, even if it was only a mythical illness), Niko found several floors locked to her and while most floors weren’t barred some still had rooms she wasn’t allowed access to.
Niko pushed open the door that led out onto the floor. She hurried across the hall to a particular room. It was the library.
Filtered morning light slipped past gauzy curtains filling the room with a soft glow. Niko stepped inside, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet. It silenced her footsteps as she weaved around the books. They were everywhere, on, shelves, on tables on the floor. Some were open and lying carelessly about while others were closed over little scraps of paper with notes written in a faded hand. A few were missing covers and others seemed to have two, a hard one and a thin paper one. As she walked she brushed her fingers along their spines taking in the titles, The Big Sea; A Slice of Cherry; The Turned; Crimson Angel before finally choosing a book filled with people in small boxes speaking into clouds floating above their heads.
She liked the library for two reasons, the first being that while it appeared to have been used often at one time, she hadn’t encountered anyone in the five times she’d visited. She liked the solitude.
The second reason wasn’t because of the books at all but because of a window.
It was nestled between two bookshelves and provided a decent view of Amaryllis City. It also provided a glimpse of the slums clustered around the perimeter where people rejected by the city but unable to return home for whatever reason gathered, hopes and dreams deferred.
Niko sat down in the chair she had placed in the nook; it bore the mark of frequent visitation. She tried to read but her eyes kept sliding toward the window. Where was he? Ben claimed that what she saw of Jared the night of the fire had been a hallucination but she didn’t believe him. Jared knew better than to leave Shawn alone while she went scavenging. He would never do that. They must have missed him somehow when they were rescuing her.
Still that didn’t silence the nagging voice that wondered if he saw her leave why didn’t he try to follow her. Why hadn’t he made it to the city yet?
“What are you thinking about?”
Niko jumped. Malik’s frame cast a shadow over her and the chair. He was tall and it caused him to loom slightly as he leaned over her, one hand pressed against the bookshelf the other flipping the book in her hands so he could read the title.
“Nothing.” She said then she frowned viciously. Jared wasn’t ‘nothing’. “I was thinking about my brother.” She looked up at Malik; the sun glinted off his glasses obscuring his eyes. “Have you heard anything?”
He shook his head. “We’re trying.”
Niko looked away, down at the book in her hands. Her eyes settled on a picture of a couple sharing an umbrella. They smiled and gazed only at each other unfazed by the water cascading all around them probably eating away at the thin membrane they held above their heads.
Niko pointed at the page. “Are they trying to kill themselves?” There were whispers that Ms. Harris had done that though her family insisted she had simply lost track of the time and weather.
Malik bent even closer the ends of his locks brushing against her cheek. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Untreated water didn’t burn back then. At least that’s how the Director said it was.” He sounded doubtful and Niko understood completely. She couldn’t imagine there was ever a time that water did not inspire fear or suspicion to some degree.
She closed the book shutting out the stupid, happy couple frolicking in untreated water. “How’s my fake identification coming along?”
He straightened, wobbling a hand back and forth. “Taking your picture helped. A few more days maybe?”
Niko tried not to groan. She wanted her false papers to be impeccable but she was sure her brains would begin dripping out of her ears if she had to wait another day.
Malik must have seen some of that in her expression. He took her hand. “Come with me, let me show you something.”
She followed him to a bookshelf where he reached up and felt along the top of it sending up a small cloud of dust. Niko coughed but he only grinned as he found whatever he was looking for. He placed it in her hand.
It was a key.
She looked at it then back up at him. “That’s it?” She found a lot of keys scavenging Outside. They were pretty worthless.
He laughed softly. “No. Think of it as part one.”
He moved away from her toward the back of the room where several tall stacks of books rested against the wall. He began to move them out of the way until a space was cleared revealing nothing more than a bare expanse of fleur-de-lis wallpaper. He beckoned her over. There was a small hole in the wall.
“Part two.” He said.
It was even less impressive than the key.
He took her hand and guided the key into the lock. It slid in perfectly and with a soft snick the hidden door popped open.
She pulled back the hidden door; it revealed a small dark room, nothing more than a large closet really. The room was bare except for four items, a stuffed milk crate, a chair and a narrow end table that held a strange contraption.
Niko warily entered the room. She kept a tight grip on the key, its ridges biting into her skin. It wasn't something she wanted to lose. There was a window in the room but a heavy curtain that obscured all but an outline of light draped it. She went to open it.
"Wait. Don't." Malik called out. He was nothing more than a silhouette in the doorway. "It's better this way."
He closed the door behind them. Niko stayed where she was, the point of the key emerging from her fist like a sharp tooth. She watched him in the dimness as he crouched in front of the crate muttering a string of whispered rejections as he riffled through its contents. Finally, he pulled out a large square and from that square he pulled out a black disc. He carefully placed it on the contraption.
With a sound like grit being shuffled under a shoe it began to play.
A soft, high, voice began to fill the room, floating through the air like dust motes. It seemed to sink into her skin and Niko understood immediately why the room was dark. The other room needed light for one to truly appreciate what black ink had inscribed on cream pages. It wasn't necessary where she was now, in fact it almost got in the way. She closed her eyes.
The music was bright, almost cheerful, while the lyric was less so, a woman pleading for her lover's return. It was something she supposed would sound odd normally. The song ended with a crackly hiss leaving only the memory of a beat and a strange feeling that time had passed both in an instant yet each second had stretched into eternity.
She opened her eyes.
Malik stood on the other side of the room, his hands on the back of the chair. He had watched her as she enjoyed the music. A smile appeared as her eyes opened. "Part three." He whispered.
"That was beautiful."
Carefully he removed the disc and put it back in its sleeve. "The Director would love to hear that. She collects these things, the books, the music, the art--- all of it." He said. "She thinks we'll need it when we're done with merely surviving, when the devil's mouth is permanently shut if you will."
"That's nice,"
Malik made a sound that said he disagreed. "It's all she cares about. She's not even interested how we're getting to that point. Like, if only a handful make it because they killed and starved everyone else, at least they'll have a lot of good books to read and pretty things to look at." He sucked in a deep breath, visibly calming himself down.
"Anyway,
I like to come here when I have a lot of archiving or research to do. It makes the time go by faster."
She asked him what exactly was he researching and he told her with a small amount of modesty that he knew almost everything about the city.
"Can you teach me?"She was growing tired of her ignorance. Just that morning she'd tried to bite through a banana without peeling back the fibrous skin. Ben had fallen out laughing and the taste still left her feeling slightly nauseous. She was tired of being the Outsider of their group, both literally and figuratively.
"Sure." He crouched over the crate thumbing through the collection. "Want to hear something else?"
She bent down. This was going to be one of the first things she would show Jared once she got him back. "Sure."