"I love you, too," Jason smiled at her. "Are you ready to go now?"
"Of course." She brushed a fluffy curl of hair into place. "First we'll
find a place where you can stay. I'll take care of that. After that the
work of the new department is up to you."
X.
There were empty rooms in one of the computer buildings. These were
completely sealed to keep stray animal life out of the delicate
machinery. While Meta checked a bed-roll out of stores, Jason painfully
dragged a desk, table and chairs in from a nearby empty office. When she
returned with a pneumatic bed he instantly dropped on it with a grateful
sigh. Her lip curled a bit at his obvious weakness.
"Get used to the sight," he said. "I intend to do as much of my work as
I can, while maintaining a horizontal position. You will be my strong
right arm. And right now, Right Arm, I wish you could scare me up
something to eat. I also intend to do most of my eating in the
previously mentioned prone condition."
Snorting with disgust, Meta stamped out. While she was gone, Jason
chewed the end of a stylus thoughtfully, then made some careful notes.
After they had finished the almost-tasteless meal he began the search.
"Meta, where can I find historical records of Pyrrus?"
"I've never heard of any ... I really don't know."
"But there has to be something--_somewhere_," he insisted. "Even if your
present-day culture devotes all of its time and energies to survival,
you can be sure it wasn't always that way. All the time it was
developing, people were keeping records, making notes. Now where do we
look? Do you have a library here?"
"Of course," she said. "We have an excellent technical library. But I'm
sure there wouldn't be any of _that_ sort of thing there."
Trying not to groan, Jason stood up. "Let me be the judge of that. Just
lead the way."
* * * * *
Operation of the library was completely automatic. A projected index
gave the call number for any text that had to be consulted. The tape
was delivered to the charge desk thirty seconds after the number had
been punched. Returned tapes were dropped through a hopper and refiled
automatically. The mechanism worked smoothly.
"Wonderful," Jason said, pushing away from the index. "A tribute to
technological ingenuity. Only it contains nothing of any value to us.
Just reams of textbooks."
"What _else_ should be in a library?" Meta sounded sincerely puzzled.
Jason started to explain, then changed his mind. "Later we will go into
that," he said. "Much later. Now we have to find a lead. Is it possible
that there are any tapes--or even printed books--that aren't filed
through this machine?"
"It seems unlikely, but we could ask Poli. He lives here somewhere and
is in charge of the library--filing new books and tending the
machinery."
The single door into the rear of the building was locked, and no amount
of pounding could rouse the caretaker.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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