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Fiction » Fantasy » Denizen font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: LandUnderWave
Fiction Rated: T - English - General/Humor - Reviews: 6 - Published: 10-07-07 - Updated: 11-20-07 - id:2423776

A/N: An extra long chapter for you all! I'm typing this at a time when I should definitely be asleep, because I have to get up at five tomorrow to leave to my grandmother's house. Also, because of NaNoWriMo, I'm not going to be writing more of this story until after November. So, sorry everyone, you'll have to wait even longer than usual.


After we take the bus to the mall—Well, Adam took some convincing to get into it. My favorite line of his was “Logically, I know it's perfectly safe. Illogically, it's a huge loud metal thing that could easily run over and crush people, killing everyone on it into the bargain.” Anyway, after that I turn to him and ask, trying to keep my hair out of my eyes in the sudden wind, “Now, do you want boring clothes, weird clothes, preppie clothes, girl's clothes, or normal guy clothes?”

“Mmm...normal clothes.” My idea of normal is undoubtedly much different from his. Eh, I'm sure he'll survive.

Adam doesn't look so sure when I pull him into a teens' resale shop. They have really fun clothes here – and some of them even pass my grandparents' muster. I glance over Adam, guesstimating what clothes might fit.

A few minutes later while he's still goggling at some of the stuff on the racks, I dump eight pairs of pants, twelve pairs of jeans, seventeen t-shirts, five shirts, seven jackets, four pairs of shoes, and three robes onto a shopping cart. I reconsidered my original idea of dumping them on him because he looks like he'd fall over under that much weight. Not that I don't, but I've bought this much here before so both I and the sales clerks know I can handle it. I push both Adam and the cart into a changing room with instructions to put the ones that won't fit or he hates in a corner, and to show the rest to me.

After spending quite a while ogling Adam in cute clothes, and an even longer while waiting while he rejected the rest, I pay for the clothes (my purse is going to be aching for a while now) and tug Adam along to a nice little pretzel stand. It's not particularly healthy, but their pretzels are quite possibly the best-tasting things on earth. Apart from raspberries. I stay loyal to my raspberries. When Adam starts to look nobly long-suffering, I pull out my everpresent book and in an act of fantastic good will, hand it to him. He'd better not be a homophobe – the Last Herald-Mage series is not particularly conductive to that type of person.


When we get home on another bus, I collapse momentarially on the couch moaning. I don't much like shopping for extended periods of time, although the clothes are nice, and I'm feeling exhausted. Sleep calls... But no! Must. Stay. Awake. Must. Supervise. Adam. Must...

I sit up and blink. My computer is making a weird noise. Adam has retreated into my room, for reasons unknown (well, except for the large number of books in there) and is most probably happily curled up in my large chair making happy noises. I go over to make sure it hasn't died or done something else equally weird, and find another message from Zamiel. What, is he stalking me or something?

It simply tells me to report to him tomorrow at nine, and to bring Adam with. It also mentions that Zamiel and his associates would like some assistance with the butterfly we captured this afternoon. I wonder about this. From what little I know of him, Zamiel tends to state things straight out, or fairly so. Perhaps there is nothing much the Guides need, just want to show us something about the butterfly...

I shake my head and laugh softly, and a little bitterly. I am fooling myself, but it is not working. We know hardly anything about butterflies, and he told me straight out I didn't have the security clearance to know more. Because he specifically mentioned the butterfly, it's definitely not just a simple check-in with my new boss. This can so not be good.

Glancing at the clock, I can tell I've slept several hours away and it's definitely time for dinner. There's enough lentil soup left for everyone for a few days, and I want something different. It's been a while since I made bagels, though they're a little labor-intensive. Eh, it'll be fun. I can even get Adam to help! Speaking of Adam...I quietly open the door and see Adam snuggled up in my big chair, the second book of the Last Herald-Mage Trilogy in his hand and the third tucked between his hip and the arm of the chair. He's sleeping away happily, and I smile, deciding not to disturb him. It would be like ignoring a cute kitten's soulful begging for food. Or something.


I groan. It's past midnight, and I'm still not the slightest bit sleepy. So there was an actual reason my mother told me never to take naps after three in the afternoon; they put you on an alternative sleep schedule. Giving up on any plan of snoozing for a while, I check to make sure Adam's still snoring away on his futon. Yup. I find the note I left for him last night when I went out and stick it next to his head again. I know Zamiel told me not to let him out of my sight, but eh. He's asleep, and I'm restless. I hope I'm not making a habit of this.

I grab my backpack, check to make sure I remembered to put the L-space phone back(I did) and slip on a pair of shoes. It's still warm enough out that I don't need a jacket, so with no farther ado I make my way to the Library.

When I get inside I remember that I still haven't asked Adam about his world. All in good time, I suppose. Shrugging, I decide to investigate some of the piles of junk that seem to accumulate at the end of every stack. Nothing as interesting as my brace (which I'm still wearing) turns up near the entrance, so I happily head deeper into the sections which I've barely explored.

It's not too dark to see in here. Somehow there's always moonlight, or something like it, even in the deepest shelves. Plus some of the books glow. I tend to avoid touching those—I don't know that they're not radioactive or something. Smiling darkly, I make my way to the 'Graceful and Appropriate Culture-Crossing' section. Bending down, I sift through the not-so-little pile of random stuff at the end of one of the stacks. I discover many uninteresting things, and a few interesting ones. The few interesting things I set out in a little line.

A dagger made of something that is neither metal nor stone but behaves like both and looks like darkness. A small paperback book that would easily fit in a pocket, its cover embellished with a copper serpent that has amethyst eyes. And a pendant on a chain, a large oval on its side with two silver loops on top for the ends of the chain. The pendant is made of something that looks like moonstone, and in barely visible, delicate lines of – perhaps rose quartz? – is traced the emblem Adam called a Quantum Weather Butterfly. I hesitated to pick this last up at first, remembering the book with this same symbol on the cover that Zamiel had only touched with silk-gloved hands. But then I remember that this was not, after all, so very deep into the seemingly endless Library. And surely someone, somewhere would have noticed if there had been a butterfly right here, in the very heart of where they lived and worked.

I ponder over these for a little time, and eventually decide that no (or at least, not much) harm can come from me taking these home. And no, it's not stealing! To steal things they must first belong to or be wanted by someone else. And I know for a fact that several other, both same- and higher-ranked-than-me librarians sift through these little bits of odds, ends, and middles.

I shrug and tuck both the dagger and book into some of the little pockets in my backpack. The necklace I carefully slip over my head. I could have sworn the chain was short enough to require a clasp, but I put it on easily and the butterfly pendant comes to rest directly over my heart. Picking it up, I wonder how it is possible to get such fine lines of a seperate stone onto the moonstone oval. Giving up on the puzzle a few seconds later, I slip it beneath my tshirt.

I am beginning to feel a little bit sleepy. Hoisting my backpack back on my shoulder, I stand up and prepare for the walk home. No doubt I shall be quite tired on reaching there.

As I pass the tenth or so stack of shelves away from the 'Gracious and Appropriate Culture-Crossing' section (which is really quite large – I'm happy I stopped at the first stack) and towards the door, I catch a flash of lighter-than-usual-ness. Barely a second later, Zamiel ghosts out of the shadows in front of me, a stern but not yet angry look on his face. I actually eep and jump, before composing myself a little. He stops just inside my personal bubble and leans forward, bringing to my attention just how much taller he is than me. I'm fairly tall, but this guy is like a freaking tree.

He looms at me, but doesn't manage to stop his ponytail from swinging forward into my face. I blow it out of my eyes with a huff of air, and it settles back against his shoulder. He states, very calmly, “What exactly are you doing here?”

It would be much more scary if I hadn't had his hair whack me in the face, and couldn't see the bags under his eyes. Underneath his expression of command and slight anger, he looks exhausted. And it hasn't even been fifteen hours since I first met him. I sigh and bow my head slightly. “I've been unable to fall asleep for three hours, and was feeling restless.”

He frowns—well, frowns more. “I thought I told you not to let that man Adam out of your sight.”

I drop my shoulders even more than they originally were, if that's possible. I hurriedly rescue my backpack from falling to the floor with one hand, and hitch that shoulder back up. Still not backing away from his waiting countenence(Hey, I used that word! I'm smart!), I reply, “Yes sir. But he's asleep, the apartment and the building it's in are locked, and Chris is a short walk down the hall away.”

Zamiel drops the anger somewhat, and just looks weary. He even brings a hand up to massage his temples with his ring finger and thumb. Still rubbing them, he answers tiredly, “It's a good thing we've already got the secondary wards up, that's all. Go home.”

I finally take a step away from him, and smile gently. “Yes sir. You should go get some sleep. You look like you need it, if you don't mind me saying so.”

I walk around him, pulling his ponytail with my left hand, and when he whips his head around to stare at me, I wave. I'm still smiling. Slowly, he smiles a little too, and nods.

What a nice boss.


On the way back home, rubbing my bare arms a little in the chill air, I try to recall everything I know about the Guiding Branch. It's not much.

Originally, there were three main branches of the Library. The Maintainers, who took care of the Library and the books inside it, except for special circumstances. Those cases were handled by Research, who were pretty much what the name implies. They dealt with dangerous items and developed things. Many of these things were used exclusively by Communications, who were the intermediaries between the other Librarians and the outside world, the other Libraries, and nearly everything else that actually required talking to someone at length.

This is basic Library history, required reading for everyone who works here.

This system worked for a long while, but then something happened to Research. Something blew up in their faces, imploded, did something, but whatever it was killed, maimed, amnesia-ed, or otherwise out-of-commissioned a very large number of them. By necessity, what was left of Research was merged with Communications to form the Guiding Branch. This happened quite a while ago, and the Guiding Branch works fairly efficiently and seamlessly now.

The history this is described in is a few decades old, and contains a fair bit about the Head of Guideing at the time, but nothing about how someone would become a Guide. Or rather, it does, but there are several scribbled notes in the margins about how this is completely out of date. In at least five different handwritings and degrees of faded-ness. So I have no clue if my situation is regular or not.

Not that it particularly matters—what I really want to know is: How do I deal with Zamiel? Apart from saying “Yes sir.” to everything. Ah yes. I mentally scribble a note to myself. “Do. Not. Play. With. New. Boss'. Hair.”

That would not be a good thing, methinks.

Not good at all.


Almost before I know it, it's morning again. I have, once more, awakened before Adam. I glance at the clock. Just enough time to take a quick shower, blow-dry my hair, and cook and eat a fast breakfast. Make that a fast breakfast for two.

With newly nice, clean, and hot-enough-to-burn-my-hands-should-I-touch-it hair, I slice up a few apples and find a tea ring to reheat in the freezer. While it's in the oven, I tiptoe back into the living room and quietly poke Adam until he starts, and attempts to strangle me. I think. It's hard to tell, because as soon as I see those hands grabbing at me with the intention of violence I'm three feet away in half a second. Wow. I didn't know I could move that fast.

Oh great. Now his eyes are open. I think it says a lot about him that he reacts with violence, and then starts waking up. He must have hidden depths. Before I smack myself for saying...er, thinking, something so cliché, I would like to add that I'd really prefer if they stayed hidden.

Or at least, that he doesn't reveal them on me.

I shrug, and ask in a normal voice if he wants tea again today. He nods.

“If it wouldn't be too much trouble.”

I smile back, revealing my mercurial mood swings once more. “Don't worry about it. Be right back!”

Once more I let myself into Chris' apartment and brew the jasamine tea. It's rather calming, doing things for other people. Whatever Adam may think while hangover-ing, I can't read all the time and the relaxing pace of working and doing small chores is a very nice addition to life.

While waiting, I forego the usual omnipresent book and instead pick up one from Chris' nearest shelf. After flipping through it for a while, I manage to recognize a few of the words. I wonder what language this is? I'm still working on my third language, my second being Spanish. Not a language I particularly like, Spanish, but fairly useful and easy.

This book, however, seems to be in mixed Latin and Greek. Since nearly half the words in the English language are composed of prefixes and suffixes from one or the other, it's not too hard to tell. But I'm positive I saw 'geograph' in Greek letters on the last page, and 'terra'-something in Roman characters on this one. 'Geo-' and 'terra-' mean roughly the same thing, something to do with earth. Perhaps this is a book translated from one language to the other with the original on alternate pages for reference?

Slightly puzzled by this, I pull the kettle off the stove just before it starts whistling, and set the tea to steep while I pore over the book again. Yes, I do think it's the same book in two different languages. Flipping the page, I whistle quietly at the excellent photograph of the Trajan Inscription. I've seen that for myself once, and this is nearly as good as seeing the original again. Below is a Greek translation. I spend a minute or so marvelling again at the beautiful lettering, before flipping the next page over again to help fill the time until the tea's finished.

I'm quite certain my jaw actually dropped at the next photograph. It was a photograph of a Greek inscription nearly as gorgeous as the Latin one on Trajan's Column. The Greeks, as far as I can remember, didn't do inscriptions except on pottery. No literary stone-carving for them. Peering closer, I notice that the letters are written 'as the plow turns'; that is, left-to-right one line and right-to-left the next. Glancing down at the Latin translation I recognize a few words, philosophia, and... Waaait a sec. Does that really say 'Nolis Fumare'?

I shrug, and tuck the book back on the shelf to borrow later. The tea is steeped enough, so I carefully convey it back to my apartment and the waiting, mildly tea-obsessed guest.


After a quick breakfast, I throw some of his new clothes at Adam and retreat into my room for a suitable outfit for myself. Luckily, all the skateboarders seem to have disappeared from the walk to the Library, although I do spot one or two in the distance.

We arrive a few minutes before nine, barely enough time to get directions from the Senior at the front desk today. She ushers us into another room past the one behind the desk, then opens a secret passage in the room beyond that.

With a slightly nervous expression, she tells us that Zamiel will be waiting for us “when you go through the last wall”, whatever that means. I shrug and pull Adam by the wrist into the tiny stairwell. With much tripping over ourselves and each other, attempts to avoid cobwebs and bugs, and freaking out over dust bunnies we assumed were huge venomous spiders, we reach a landing. And another landing. And another one.

At last we arrive at something which is not really a landing, but just an elongated step. At the end of the step is a door, which leads into a nice, clean, well-lit hallway. Zamiel is standing a few yards away, smirking slightly.

“It's traditional for newbies to take the scenic route.” With that he proceeds to pull a dust bunny out of my hair, and a bit of cobweb out of Adam's. Ick. It has dead bugs in it. Adam notices this, but kindly refrains from freaking out again.

Zamiel gestures for us to follow him, then strides (I swear, he never just walks) along the hall and past a few doors, upon which he stops and opens one, apparently at random. It is occupied with large old books lying on clinical-looking tables, one or two bubbling cauldrons, and lots of men and women in lab coats. Some of them even have goggles. Zamiel expertly weaves around them all, somehow managing not to bump into a single thing. Adam and I are lest apt, but manage not to permenantly damage anything. We end up in another room, this one with only two people, both in very different clothes from those outside. No white nor goggles are in evidence, both being clad in sleeveless tops and something which looks a little like jeans but in bright colours I've only ever seen on silk.

There are only three things in this room. Well, apart from all the equipment. One is an amulet made of some kind of gemstone, one is – I peer closer – yes, a frying pan, and the third is the butterfly we encountered yesterday. One of the two people is tracing the Quantum Weather Butterfly on the cover with a silk-gloved finger, but backs away when Zamiel motions for her to put it down.

He turns to face us. “Now—”

He breaks off suddenly, grabbing my left hand and bringing my arm into clearer view. His face is a little shocked, and a lot startled.

“Where did you get this?” Zamiel asks in a calm voice.

“...What?”

He taps something on my arm. “This, Jackie.”

“...Oh.” I'm still wearing the brace I picked up when New G– sorry, Sache – came to the Library. I don't know why I haven't taken it off. Soaking in a shower can't possibly be good for it.

“I picked it up the day before yesterday, in one of the piles of junk that are at the end of every stack I've seen so far. I think it was the one by...no, I don't remember. Somewhere between the physics and urban fantasy sections.” He nods, slowly.

“Can I borrow it? I just want to see if I'm right about something.”

I think it over for a few seconds, frowning slightly. “Yeah, sure. Can I have it back when you're done?”

“I can't promise that. But probably, yes.” Deciding that that was probably as good an answer as I was going to get out of him, I nod. He turns my arm over to expose the clasps, but when he tries to undo them...

“Yeowch! That hurt.” Zamiel sucks on his fingers. Apparently my pretty brace-thingie doesn't like other people trying to take it off. The thing spat sparks at him! And no, I don't know how it does that.

Speaking around his fingers, Zamiel mumbles, “Well, I guess that answers that.”

I glance at Adam. His eyes are a little wide, but he's nodding and seems to know what my new boss is talking about. I feel very out of the loop here.

Zamiel removes his fingers from his mouth and pretends that nothing has happened. He slips on a pair of silk gloves and carefully flicks open the clasps on the butterfly. I glance at Adam. He looks as nervous as I feel. If it's really so dangerous, should he be opening it like that? As Adam and I engage in our silent synchronization of thought, Zamiel is talking.

“Now, ordinarily we'd be running all sorts of tests on this thing. But one of the tests we have run so far indicates an unusual peculiarity.” He smiles ironically. “Of course, all butterflies are unusual peculiarities in and of themselves, but something in this one is even weirder than normal.”

He flips through the pages, and I catch glimpses of strange colours and pictures that appear to be moving. What the– I swear I just saw a butterfly trying to crawl out from a page. Not in between two pages, but out of one.

“You see, this–” Zamiel breaks off suddenly, catching ahold of the braceless arm and pressing my hand against one of the pages, fast as a striking snake. Or something. I jerk back, having ingrained it into my mind over the past day that no matter what, you do not touch the butterfly. Zamiel holds my hand there for a few moments, then releases me.

“You see? Nothing. Nothing at all. If this were a 'normal' butterfly, you'd have been sucked off into an alternate dimension, turned into a frog, whatever. And from the results we've gotten, it would do that. But you are apparently exempt. You haven't delt with a butterfly before, have you?”

I shake my head. This is more than a little much for me.

“Pity. That would account for it. Perhaps there's a temporal paradox...” He trails off, shrugging. “No matter for now, I suppose. I shall turn you over to Maddie, then.”

He leads us back out from the two rooms, and we walk along the hallway until he comes to a door with little black, hooded, scythe-d, deaths painted all over it. That door takes us to another hallway. At roughly the seventh door down he bangs on it and calls, “Maddie! New blood for you to corrupt!”

A female, slightly grumpy voice replies. “Give me a sec, okay? I'll be right there!”

Zamiel shrugged and elbowed the door open for me. Maddie's office is a mix of cute, scary, and literary. If I ever get stuck in a job where I have to have an office, I want it to be like hers. But with less bats. Adam starts to follow me in, but Zamiel grabs his arm.

“Nope. Just them in there for right now. You come with me.” Adam looks not terribly happy about it, but complies. As the door swings shut behind me, I take Maddie herself in. She's short, about thirty, and wearing a really cute tshirt with a female ninja on it. Instant clothes envy. Especially because I've seen that shirt before and can totally not afford it. Sometimes having a part-time job sucks.

I notice a small mirror in her hand, but it doesn't look like she was using it to check her makeup. I wonder what it really does – I've heard they come up with some crazy things here.

While I've been mind-wandering, Maddie has started to talk.

“–Maddie. I'm just going to show you the basics. Firstly though; do you want to be more of a Re or a Scout?”

“Re or...?” I blink, not really getting what she means.

She sighs. “Do you want to mess with stuff or use the stuff that other people mess with?”

“Eh...I don't–”

Maddie cuts me off. “Fair enough. Well then, do you want to start out with Lab work or walking-work? Lab is basically what most of the people down here do, analyzing and experimenting. Walking is pretty much what it implies, you find and help travellers from elsewhere. Or at least, you do at your level. Someone like Roz mostly gets sent on delegations, embassies, and occasional high-level field testing.”

I assume Roz is someone very important, or at least fairly high up.

“Um...start out with Walking, I guess.” She nods, and opens a door in the back of her office, which leads to another hallway. This place has to be huge.

Maddie shouts, “Dex! Ready to outfit the new kid?”

She doesn't wait for an answer, instead hustling me through the door and another open doorway just inside the hall. Every flat surface in the room, horizontal or vertical (except for the ceiling. You don't want things falling down on your head, which they will no matter how tightly you nail them in) is covered with strange and not-so-strange objects, almost all of which I have no idea as to their actual purpose. Except for that thing over there that looks like a more advanced L-space phone.

Dex is a man of undeterminable age, someone who could be anywhere between twenty-five and forty. Grinning, he pulls out a bag from underneath one of the tables and tosses it at us. Maddie fields it expertly, and snaps at him to be more careful.

“And this one needs the basic Field pack as well.” Turning to me, she adds, “That's the official name for Walking. But it sounds incongruous, so we don't use it.”

“Mostly,” comments Dex, who is kind enough to actually hand me this much smaller bag. My hand dips under its weight.

“Wow. What's this stuff made of, lead?”

Dex's grin seems to never come off his face. “Some. And some glass, and some aluminium, and some iron, and...”

“Oh, shut up, Dex.” Maddie seems to know him quite well, at least well enough to casually argue with him.

“I'll explain this to her, I don't think I want you near her.” She turns to me again. “Beware of the Dex. I don't want you turning into someone like him.”

“Aww, Maddie, you know you love me!” He puts one hand on his heart and makes a wounded face with puppy-dog eyes.. I'm going to start plotting revenge against everyone who can do that and refuses to teach me, I just know I am.

Maddie just sighs and leads me back into her office. Dumping everything off her desk, she sets down the bag Dex threw at me and opens it up, beginning to take stuff out. As she lays the equipment (or whatever) out, she explains how to use it.

“Just a few extra things the caretaker Librarians don't usually get. This is a digital index. Your version is full of information about all the worlds you'll likely encounter at this stage; someone will give you the expansion packs when you need them. If you happen to run into someone whose world you don't recognize, call this number.”

She dials a number into the L-space phone's index. I blink, wondering when she got my phone. I certainly didn't notice her grabbing it out of my backpack. Maybe it was when I was gawking at Dex's technology-filled room.

“It's a line to our Assistance room. When you get more experience, you'll probably be getting a few shifts there.

“This is a small-space book-repairing kit. I assume you already know how to fix damaged books?” Maddie looks up at me sharply. I nod, recalling all the times I've mended bindings, covers, and pages in the Library above. Or was it above? We might be out from under it, for all I know.

“You never know when you might come across an injured book. Your index also connects to the Library's book list database so you can decide whether or not you should bring a book back to be shelved here.” She winks at me. We both know that if I should happen to come across a book in another world, whether there's a copy here or not, I'll be taking it back with me. For one reason or another.

“A lockpicker's set. These come in useful all the time. Might I suggest Amanda Richter's excellent book Small Spaces and Closed Doors: Getting Into, Out of, and Creating Them? Very instructive.

“And..this.” She puts it on the desk with slight reverence, “It's basically a cash card if you run into a magic-user. It transfers energy from our stores into their personal ones. Be mindful; what you spend will get the rough equivalent deducted out of your paycheck. Zamiel has a fortunate tendency to round things down rather than up, but even so.

“If there's something magical most people have or that you dearly need in a world with magic-users, you can get it with this. I would suggest calling Assistance to do their job before you spend anything, though. If you get scammed, it's your own fault and you still have to pay for it.”

Maddie gently tucks everything back into their respective pockets in the bag, but leaves my L-space phone on the table. She gestures at me, and I abruptly realize she wants the heavy bag that's still dangling from my hand. I try to put it down carefully, but still manage to almost drop it. Maddie looks a little disappointed with me, but I just shrug.

She sighs, and begins laying out these. “This is a basic knife. Use it for self-defence if you have to, use it for cutting things if not. Might I recommend you bring scissors as well? And nail clippers?

“This is...a bottle of asprin. Very useful. And don't forget to use the camera in your phone for pictures. Oh, I almost forgot!” She rummages around in her pocket, takes something out and clips it onto the tiny antenna of my phone. Why does it even have one? It runs on library aura.

“You can now use this as a one-way connection for short periods of time. That is, you don't have to be around more than a very few books to use it if you need to call for help. It takes quite a bit of energy, though, so only use it if you have to. And then only for five minutes or so. The nice thing is that it works across time and space as well as the usual bounderies. You could call from 379 BCE and we'd get both your call and spacetimeverse location.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds. “Space...time...”

Maddie grins at my confusion. “Yup. What world, time, and place you're calling from. Nice, isn't it?

“Now, I would love to give you something that would translate what people say into English. Sadly, we can't...nobody can.”

I cock my head to one side. “Because you can't make people speak languages without learning them?”

Suprisingly, she shakes her head. Exhuberantly. “Uh-uh! You can. Just not any language from Earth. Or from two or three other worlds. Ask your friend Adam about it sometime!”

Maddie removes a small vinyl bag from the...er, bag. “This is something very, very important. Nobody who travels away from their home world should ever forget about this.”

“And this very very important thing is...?” I prompt.

She sets it down on her desk, with even more reverence than the magical 'cash card'. Maddie spreads her arms, smiles wickedly, and cries with the resonance of a thousand...something-or-others, “Makeup!”

My shock definitely shows on my face.

“Well, you can't go anywhere without makeup! Duh. There's also a small-space box of tampons, pads, shampoo, and soap in there. Sadly, the designers forgot to include scissors or nail clippers. Pity, that.” She rummages around some more, talking as she does.

“And this last is Zamiel's invention from a few years back. He's very proud of it, and rightfully so too. You could say it's something like an artificial immune system enhancement. People don't die of weird sicknesses on Walking-work anymore now. It boosts your immune system and adds all kinds of diseases into your internal database. No dying-of-a-common-cold-syndrom for us!”

I go pale. “Please don't tell me I have to get an injection.”

“Mmm...no. Usually you would, but you have a phobia of needles, correct?” Maddie raises an eyebrow. Where do these people get their information? On next thought, scratch that. I'd probably rather not know. I nod in answer to her not-really-a-question.

“Ah. Then I'll box this one for someone else and remind Zamiel that he said he'd take care of whatever extra you needed. Some days I think that guy doesn't do nearly enough actual work...” She mumbles that last bit to herself. I think I agree with her. The head of Guiding Branch doesn't seem nearly busy enough. Maddie tucks the things back in their bag, and hands both bags to me, brightening as she does so.

“Put these in your backpack. Here's your phone back, too. I don't care if Zamiel and your guy Adam are talking about the secrets to world domination, I'm sending you back to them. He promised he'd take care of the new 'special case', so I'm putting you with him until the whole Adam thing blows over. Ordinarily we'd send you out to a few of the 'practice' worlds first, the ones who have people who work with us and help newbies get used to the feeling of coping in a totally different universe. But the higher-ups – well, up, because unless he's cloned himself recently there's only one boss of R&D – says he needs you to take care of Adam's problem first. Wish I knew why.

“When you get there, just be happy to have someone to guide you around. And try to control your reactions, that's all the advice I can give you.

“Oh, and get someone to tell you what world Adam's from so you can get some info about how to act there. By the by, in a month or so depending on how long the Adam situation takes, you'll get transferred to Lab work here. Excuse me.” She pulls out an L-space phone and calls someone, evidently Zamiel. My brain is struggling to take in everything she's dumped on me, and I'm sure I'll forget half of it. Oh well. I hope I can remember the essentials, at least.


A/N: Good news: I'm over thirty thousand words in Ochlocracy, my NaNoWriMo novel. Bad news: I still need to write a huge bunch and figure out how to end it. This plus I'm facing five days away from the internet and home, most of which will be spent with my wonderful cousins. I will have a laptop there to write on, but sadly I won't be writing this. I'll start work again in December, I promise!

Maddie is named, I think, after serpentynepearl's character. All the cool gadgets Jackie has now were mostly thought up on the spot. Mostly. My favorite scene in this chapter is probably the Jackie/Zamiel encounter in the library, as well as the bit right before that. Also, I think I overused the line break in this chapter. I'm fairly sure there were some other things I was going to say here, but I don't remember any of them right now. See you all soon!

Lilz



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