The Library on the Edge of the Night, Part 2

The second installment of fiction by Chris Hawkins. For Part 1, read here.

Part 2

v.

Four months into Tallis’s tenure, the library was favoured with a visit from the Governor of Eleison himself, Ross Marten. He arrived early in the afternoon in his opulent new Levcar, although Tallis considered owning a car of any sort to be opulent in the painfully walkable city, accompanied by journalists and photographers from both the Post and the Gazette. He entered the library with a smile shinier than the car and waved to the assembled patrons. 

Rosalyn, whom Tallis had heard produce many less than positive phrases about Governor Marten before now, put on a good show for him. She curtseyed low to the ground and proclaimed “We are honoured to have you in our humble little library today, Sir”. 

The Governor did not appear to catch any hint of insincerity in her manner, and stepped forward to shake her hand. “You do an invaluable job here, madam, truly you do.” He turned to the assembled press, still clasping Rosalyn’s hand. “I have always said that Reading is one of the most invaluable resources any community anywhere can have.” 

“Oh indeed, Sir,” exclaimed Rosalyn. “Tell me, Sir, what might be your favourite book?”

There was an extended pause. Followed by a further extended pause. Eventually Tallis noticed one of the Governor’s aides 'coughing’ into her hand.

 “Jane Eyre,” Marten blurted quite suddenly, his glassy expression switching immediately back to a polished grin. 

Tallis involuntarily winced at the mention of the Bronte work whilst Rosalyn bared her teeth in an unnerving smile. “Fine choice, sir. Who might your favourite character be?”

The visit was wrapped up rather hurriedly after another excruciating stretch of silence, and Ross Marten was returned to his car, waving to the cameras all the way. The assembled staff and patrons watched him depart before Olli, here on another fleeting visit between hauling jobs, asked the room at large “Why didn’t he just say his favourite character was Jane Eyre?”

vi.

Even more illustrious than the visit by the Governor, was a call Tallis received from their mother, Casulana, informing them that she intended on visiting them the next week. It had been a statement rather than a request. There were few commercial tunnel flights between the Rah and Kyrie systems, but their mother had “stumbled across” a cheap seat on a rare Spacetrotter vessel coming this way that she simply couldn’t pass up. And so Tallis duly found themself waiting at the port at the designated time, along with George, who was due to greet a sightseeing Sing-Ribbon on the same flight. 

“You seem a tad tense, Tallis” said George and the spacecraft blossomed into view out the sky heading towards the landing dock, and their hands formed a fist in their pockets.

“I do?” asked Tallis “well, I guess it’s just…families.”

“Say no more,” said George “all three of my parents are a little difficult in a different way. I love them but sometimes they can just be…” they trailed off. 

Tallis nodded, “Sometimes they can just be.”

The craft made a prim landing and the passengers made their exit. All told there were five; three vaguely identical members of the Bankers’ Guild, followed by the Sing-Ribbon who undulated down the ramp where George slithered over to meet them. Last to alight in the doorway was Dr Casulana Maupin-Okino herself, wearing a faux-fur stole and a large pair of sunglasses. She dashed towards Tallis arms outstretched. Tallis allowed her to embrace them and allowed themself a break from cynicism to be sincerely pleased to see their mother. 

Casulana broke the hug, hands still on Tallis’s shoulders and said “Well, I can certainly see why these tickets were so cheap.”

“Not up to standards then, Mum?” smiled Tallis.

“I’ve never been on a flight that didn’t have olives, Tallis. Never not once.”

“Atrocious.”

Their mother lightly smacked their shoulder, “Save the sarcasm, darling. You know I need olives to calm my nerves. But no matter, it’s over now. Maybe I’ll be able to buy some here before I leave. Does this planet have olives?” She glanced toward the city. “Hm, though I shan’t hold my breath. Now, darling, you must give me a tour, and leave nothing interesting out now.” 

They lead her away from the port, waving to George who was still in conversation with the tourist. By the sound of it they were explaining yet another ancient comedy piece, this one being something to do with a horse who was loose in a hospital. If Sing-Ribbons had a face, Tallis expected this one’s would be expressing puzzlement. 

They gave their mother a tour of the city, which took very little time, with Casulana pronouncing almost everything as “quaint”. Though they had booked the day off work, she insisted on being shown the library. The two approached the building just as Mr Phillips was once again hurrying away from it muttering about ‘civil liberties’ and entered to see Rosalyn stowing her cattle prod beneath the desk. 

“Well, well, well, this must be Mother Tallis,” she proclaimed, “very charmed to meet the apple-tree that Fidget here plopped down from”.

“Fidget?” asked Casulana

Tallis waved the question away. Casulana narrowed her eyes a moment and then nodded, appearing to approve of the nickname.

“Charming to meet you too, Rosalyn.” She shook her hand over the desk. “I understand you’ve taken my Tallis under your wing and helped them settle in, I’m so grateful. This move was rather unexpected, you know, and Tallis has always had lot of trouble with change and-” 

“Yeah, okay, mum, she doesn’t want to hear all that,” Tallis interjected.

Rosalyn gave Tallis a glance that indicated ‘I do’ but she did not pursue the subject.

Casulana was now taking some aimless steps away from the desk, appraising the library further. “Such a lovely, quaint little library,” she said, then, switching to Japanese, a language in which she had only a passing proficiency despite Tallis’s father’s best efforts, she commented in softer tones “And not as terrible as I was concerned it would be.”

“It’s basically the same as a library anywhere else. Just quieter,” replied Tallis in the same tongue.

“One has expectations of quietness from a library,” noted Casulana. 

Rosalyn said something in what sounded like Gaelic. 

“What was that, Ros?” asked Tallis.

“Oh, I just thought maybe we were all speaking in different languages for fun or something.”

To avoid having her spend too much time in their flat, where they were sure she’d pick up on Sakura Bear now sitting vigilant on their shelf, Tallis took their mother to their favourite burger bar for lunch. Tallis had initially spurned the imaginatively named ‘Burgerz’ along with most local establishments, but had eventually warmed up to the place. Predominantly for its halloumi burger. Tallis allowed themself to become mildly lost in the flavours as Casulana regaled them with the latest scandals from Shergold, and exploits of their siblings, Morley and Bel, who were both continuing to make names for themselves in the Shipwright’s Guild. After a while the sound of her words began to merge with the underlying thrum of the drills outside and Tallis’s own chewing resonating through their jaw and skull.

“Oh, by the way, I was speaking to Anna-Theodora,” the sudden interjection of Jephi’s mother’s name caused Tallis to choke slightly, which their mother acknowledged by pushing their glass of water closer to them and continuing, “at fencing class, you know? Not that she attends nearly as much as she should, just not committed, you know. It’s why her point control is so terrible. Monsieur Kettle is always complimenting my point control, and it’s because I put in the hours.” Tallis sipped at their water, waiting for her to drift back around to her original point. “...and am I to understand that things have become rather difficult between you and Jessica-Hepzibah?” 

Tallis took a larger gulp of water to push down the groan they wanted to let out and replied “Things aren’t difficult. Not anymore. They’re over. She’s made that pretty clear. And just call her Jephi; she hates her full name.”

“Ah that really is a pity, I do like that girl.”

Tallis swallowed another bite of burger and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I didn’t especially,” admitted Casulana, “but I liked her for you, you know, and I liked you with her. You were always marginally more pleasant to be around when things were going well between you two.”

There followed a further gap in their conversation, underscored by the sounds of chewing, and the light humming of the chef from the kitchen.

“You’ve coped a lot better with this whole re-posting than I thought you would,” said Casulana after a while. 

“Not coping wouldn’t have achieved a lot.”

“Still, I’m proud of you, darling. You’ve held up very well, you know. Better than you would have done a few years ago.”

“Life shits on you sometimes, Mum. Sometimes all there is to do is have a shower and wash your clothes.”

“Charming metaphor, darling.” She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “It shouldn’t be for much longer anyway, I’m sure they decided you’ve learned your lesson and will sort out a nicer posting for you soon.” 

Tallis looked up from their burger, frowning. “I wouldn’t bet on it, Mum. They were pretty pissed off about the whole thing. And I don’t disagree with them.”

“Dial down the language a little, Tallis,” said their mother. “And yes, I know it was a very rare copy of the book and you were extremely careless with that candle but really, I’ve seen it, you know, and the damage was quite minimal.”

“Damage to a first edition copy is still damage, Mum.”

Casulana tutted. “It was only the edges of a few pages that were singed. From what I understand the whole thing is still perfectly readable. They should have taken more precautions with how they displayed it.”

Tallis gulped down the last drops of their juice and endeavoured, unsuccessfully, to block-out their mother’s monologuing. They focused their attention on a stain on the table. They couldn’t work out what had made it. Was that a drink or a sauce? Whatever it was had spread out into several branches, a thick cluster of short ones with a few longer tendrils extending out. Like tentacles, or a path of snowdrops or crocuses.

“Of course, yes, I understand the anger,” continued Casulana. “I’d be angry too if the only known first edition copy of a famous book survived a centuries-long journey across space and then a few generations of care and display only to be damaged by a clumsy librarian but as I said the damage was very minimal. I’m suppose they were lenient in not expelling your from the Guild but-”

Tallis shut their eyes. “It’s fine, Mum. I’m making the best of it for now.”

“Maybe if you wrote them an appropriately humble letter, really expressing how you’ve learned the error of-

Tallis slammed a hand on the table, causing the crockery and cutlery to clank. A server shrank down behind the till, and the chef poked her head out through the kitchen hatch in concern.

“I said it’s fine, Mum. Just leave it alone, okay? Lord, have mercy.” 

Casulana blinked with slight surprise and indignation before shooting a glare to the restaurant staff that caused them to rapidly return to their previous tasks. She took another bite of her chicken burger, chewed, swallowed and said “Very well darling, my apologies. But a kinder tone might not go amiss next time. Just trying to help, you know.” 

vii.

Some three and a half weeks after Tallis’s mother’s visit, Rosalyn had a visitor of her own. As Tallis was coming back from the staff-room, they saw her engaged in quiet conversation with a tall figure, wearing a faded duster, studded boots and wide brimmed hat. The man had the mask of an oxygen-pack lowered around his neck. Following a few more furtive words with Rosalyn, he handed her large pouch, tied at the top, doing his best to allow his duster to obscure it. At the same time, she, with equal discretion, handed him a book which he stowed in some hidden pocket. He nodded to Rosalyn and, eyes a little uncertain, tipped his hat to Tallis as they returned to the desk. Then he briskly left the building.

“Dare I enquire?” asked Tallis to Rosalyn.

Rosalyn patted the pouch, obscured from any but their view by the rim of the desk. “Silas Murray,” she said. “He and his husband Jules run that farm over the western ridge. Keep to themselves mostly. But best bloody tea you’ll find this end of the galaxy. Usually costs a bomb but,” she grinned “luck for us, Silas and Jules are big fans of Perrin von Kosterberg books. Especially keen to read this new one that’s just come out.”

Tallis grinned back at their colleague. “The one that has a reservation waiting list about a mile or two long?”

“Aye, that’s the bugger,” said Rosalyn. “‘fraid my finger might have slipped when I was placing Silas’s reservation and accidentally bumped him up right to the top.” He just happened to drop off this tea here as a generous gift when he popped in to collect it.

“How kind of him,” said Tallis.

“Oh indeed,” said Rosalyn lifting the pouch, “and I reckon there should be enough in here to keep us going until the next time von Kosterberg drops a new book. Very prolific writer, he is.”

viii.

George left Eleison the next month quite abruptly. Their hitherto unmentioned long-distance partner had been given an Architects’ Guild posting on Pachamama and George had somehow wrangled a reassignment of their own to join them. It came as a surprise to Tallis that George was in a monogamous two-person relationship. Such things were still unusual in most wihumayk cultures which was likely why they were moving somewhere relatively out the way but still more cosmopolitan than Eleison. Tallis was there at the port to see George off. Righteous Indignance had already said his goodbyes earlier. They hugged the wihumayk, trying not to tear up.

“Best of luck, George. I hope you and…?” they trailed off as a question.

“Evening Sky.”

“That you and Evening Sky have a really happy life there,” Tallis finished.

“Oh well we were intending to have a pretty rotten time but don’t worry, we’ll change our plans now you’ve said that.”

Tallis gave them a fond swat and laughed. “Evening Sky is a lovely name though. What’s your wihumayk name, by the way. I don’t think you’ve ever said it.”

The cognitive translators had difficulty with personal names which, in the early years, came out untranslated and thus in some instances difficult to process or replicate. To alleviate this, people were generally encouraged to learn the meanings of their names so the translators could provide it as a filler when they spoke. Tallis had found differences of opinion on theirs, indicating they could be known to non-humans either as ‘One Who Thrives’ or ‘Forehead’. They had opted to think of themself as the former. 

George smiled with their sensory feathers. “Tiller of Soil,” they said. 

Tallis supposed that, like their own name, this would not be something George and other wihumayks literally heard when the name was spoken but just its original derivation. They considered the name for a moment. “So, like a farmer?” 
“Precisely.”

 “Isn’t that..?”

“What the human name ‘George’ means too? Yes. That’s why I chose it.” George folded and unfolded a sensory feather quickly, in their version of a wink, and then slithered up the gangplank. Tallis watched them leave with a mix of emotions. Not all of them having to do with George specifically.

ix.

The next time anybody of note came into the library was roughly a week afterwards. Tallis was alerted to their entrance by a sudden hush from the knitting group, annoyingly right before they’d been about to overhear what scandalous thing the newsagents’ son had done at university on Lono. They looked up and saw Righteous Indignance scuttling towards them from the front doors. By the time he had reached the desk, the knitting group had resumed their conversation, albeit with a slight reduction in volume and a slight increase in uncomfortable glances. 

Tallis signed a cheerful greeting which was returned, and Rosalyn ambled over to join them.

 “Alright, Ri-Dig,” she said aloud.

“I find myself to be in robust health, yes, thank you,” Righteous Indignance signed back, still in SHSL rather than his native system. Rosalyn’s translator would interpret the gestures into speech in her mind either way.

“What did we do to lure you out of the embassy?” asked Tallis. “I feel honoured”.

Righteous Indignance signed amusement then said “I have been thinking more and more lately about the codependent bond, and thought I might seek some appropriate literature. George leant me some wihumayk titles before they left but also recommended several human writers; Pablo Neruda, Luo Guanzhong, Jane Austen, E. L. James, among others.”  

Whilst speaking to them, he had turned two of his eyes to remain permanently fixed on the knitting group, causing a subtle but noticeable rise in their discomfort. Tallis imagined this was the desired effect.  

“Sorry, Ri-Dig, afraid we don’t have any books here,” said Rosalyn, scanning a book and popping it into a crate with a transit slip. 

They put together a bag of books, including a few authors he hadn’t requested but were their own recommendations. Tallis was just scanning a violet covered book, not particularly noting the title or writer, when Righteous Indignance signed “I am hoping this will help me better understand things such as the trouble you had with this Jephi you’ve talked of.”

The mention of Jephi’s name, combined with the colour of the book they were holding stirred something in Tallis. Feelings they’d been avoiding addressing since receiving Jephi’s parcel. And, as if by a fish hook latching on somewhere in the gut of their brain, Tallis found themself yanked back into a vivid memory.

It had been a violet day. The time of year when the jacaranda trees bloomed on the part of Bunyip, papering the ground with pastel petals. The cherry blossom season was long over by then. Tallis and Jephi were occupying a bench in a park equidistant between their two houses, playing out a conversation they’d been delaying for a while. Jephi had not met Tallis’s eyes for several minutes, directing her words more to the flowers than to them. 

“It’s like you only see the universe through a window with raindrops on,” Jephi said, halfway through a monologue that Tallis could tell she’d rehearsed. “That negativity, it rubs off on me too much. It always has. It makes me a worse person. I’m not saying you’re a bad person but I’m worse a person when I’m with you, I think.”

“You can’t really mean that?” The two of them had been having trouble and increasingly regular spats for a while but Tallis was still gobsmacked by Jephi’s words. “We make each other happy, don’t we? We clash a lot, yeah, ‘cus that’s just what we’re like. Strong personalities. But being together makes us feel happy. Doesn’t it make you feel happy?”

Jephi’s gaze moved to her knees. “It does. I’m not saying it doesn’t. What I’m saying is, I think maybe it’s not worth all the other things it makes me feel.”  

“Does the other stuff matter?” asked Tallis, reaching towards her shoulder, “Surely if we’re happy then that’s all-”

Jephi jerked her shoulder away, speaking over Tallis. “And besides, we need other stuff to make us happy. You really need other stuff. You want to see me and talk to me all the time. It’s unhealthy, Tallis. I can’t live my own life if I have to be yours.”

“I’m sorry for that,” said Tallis, reaching a hand out again on instinct and then retracting it in a flinch, “I’m sorry if I crowd you. It’s just that so much of the time the universe does seem awful to me, you’re right, but I feel great when I’m with you. I…” They paused, searching for the sufficient words. “I feel good. Just so good. And when I’m not with you, I feel less good. Even more ‘less good’ than I did already.” 

Jephi shook her head. “That’s not my problem.” 

The meeting on the bench wrapped up shortly after that, with Jephi asserting that a ‘proper break’ would be best for both of them and Tallis no longer possessing the energy that day to disagree. Jephi squeezed Tallis’s hand once, very tightly, and then walked away, leaving Tallis sitting with purple petals falling on their shoulders.

They’d had some further exchanges after that, exclusively in message format, growing increasingly heated until Jephi had stopped replying. But that had been the last time they’d seen each other face-to-face. 

Tallis zoned back into the present-day. To the books, the drills and to the faces of Rosalyn and Righteous Indignance, looking at them with concern. 

“Lord, have mercy, Fidget, are you alright?” asked Rosalyn, in far more serious a voice than was usual for her. “Do you need to go on break?”

Tallis realised with a flare of humiliation that they’d started crying a little. 

Righteous Indignance was distressed. “So many apologies, Tallis. I was clumsy in talking about things I should have known were likely to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” said Tallis, almost snapping at him. “I mean. I’m fine. I’m good. It’s just. Stuff.”

“You don’t seem fine or good,” appraised Rosalyn, “and it’s perfectly alright not to be fine or good about Stuff.” She handed Tallis a tissue from a box on the desk.

Tallis hesitated, then accepted the tissue, dabbing at their cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this now. It’s been months. It’s just, urgh, it’s all so awful. I don’t know if you really want to understand all this stuff Righteous Indignance. I think I barely do but I hate what I do understand.”

Righteous Indignance pondered this for a few beats, then launched into rapid signing that Tallis was only just able to follow, “There are cultures on Kali where people are raised by the one who births them and so they have distinctions of bond between those who share genetic lineage and those who do not. But in my culture, we do not know who births us. Everybody is raised by everybody. Bonds that you might call ‘family’ and ‘friend’ are as one. Does this make sense to you?” 

“It does. It does,” said Tallis, unsure as to the pertinence of this.

“I have discovered so many more types of bonds than I knew were possible,” continued Righteous Indignance, “I thought sometimes this was due to differences in our physiologies and chemistry but then I remember even my own species views certain bonds differently. If a human culture lived as mine does, with no knowledge of their birthing origins, they might have the same notions of bonds that we do. I think I must feel bonds as strongly as you do. The only difference is that, for myself, the bond you have or had with this Jephi and the bond you have with Rosalyn would be precisely the same kind of bond to me, merely different in intensity.”

“No, no, I do see what you mean,” said Tallis, starting to see why he was saying this. “But when it comes to Friendship, Romance, Family; none of those feel superior or inferior to each other by default or definition, you know? They’re just...,” an explanation evaded them.

“Different,” supplied Rosalyn. “We just know they are.”

“I think it’s your need to couple to reproduce that has created this codependent bond,” the kaliite opined, “sorry I should call it ‘romantic’, yes? Between two or sometimes more.  Just as George’s culture does with three. Even when it would not be conducive to reproduction. A bond to necessitate reproduction I can understand. Almost. But how this remains tied up with the romantic bond still evades my comprehension.”

“Same here, Ri-Dig,” put in Rosalyn. “I’m ace, o’course,  so I’ve never really cared for people treating sex and romance as joined at the hip. Reckon you’ll have a hard time finding any species where everyone’s got the same ideas about, well, anything.” 

“Well maybe Sing-Ribbons,” said Tallis.

“Yeah, maybe Sing-Ribbons,” agreed Rosalyn and Righteous Indignance, as much in unison as their different forms of communication allowed.

“What I mean by all this,” Righteous Indignance carried on “is that no matter if bonds of romance you have with persons might fail, you will always have the bonds of friendship with myself and Rosalyn. Well, I cannot make assertions for Rosalyn but I have grown a very fond bond with you in this short time we have known each other and I am always happy to give you emotional support if you require it.”

“Nah, don’t worry, you defo speak for me too, Ri-Dig,” said Rosalyn. She smiled at Tallis, “I’ve grown a very fond bond for you n’all, Fidget.”

Rosalyn and Righteous Indignance both reached out their hands to place on Tallis’s. Tallis couldn’t help but smile.  

“Thank you, you two. I…, just thank you.”

After a moment, there was a distinctly irritable cough, and they all turned to see the furrow-browed form of Mr Gill clutching several books.

“I know you all seem to be having a touching little chat,” he said, “but would someone competent be able to help me check these out?”

As Rosalyn had objected to his tone and the possibility of being labelled ‘competent’, it was Tallis who ended up helping him. 

x.

Days passed. Kyrie rose and set. Doreen and Edna shifted through phases. Stars burned in one direction, and in the other the Night remained dark. The knitting group continued to knit and natter, the Geraldine Saltknock book that Enid had requested showed up extremely late, but she was grateful all the same, and Mr Phillips’ ban from the library finally elapsed. Then three days later he was promptly banned again for another six months due an altercation over a crocheting magazine.

Tallis received a call from their sister, Bel, now insisting on being called by her full name Pachelbel for ‘career reasons’. Over the course of their general chatter, she found an opportunity to faux-casually mention that she’d run into Jephi on her last visit back to Bunyip, and that Jephi was now apparently dating a surfer named Flek. The news rammed a branch of brambles right into Tallis’s chest but they didn’t let it derail them. Not too much. It was just something else that would take getting used too, and they were working on that. They’d even taken Sakura Bear off their shelf and put her into a box in the cupboard.

Rosalyn informed Tallis of an event called ‘Landing Day’ that was approaching, commemorating the first touchdown on Eleison’s surface.

“We never make too much fuss but there'll be some fireworks. Thought we could sit out the back and watch after work. I’ll invite Ri-Dig too. He needs company these days, bless his heart.”

Tallis accepted the invitation, actually finding themself looking forward to it. They’d received some brief communication during this last month from one of the Librarian’s Guild staffing offices expressing how pleased they were with the work Tallis had done on Eleison and that the Guild was “looking forward to seeing what else they might do there”.  The whole Jane Eyre catastrophe went conspicuously unmentioned. This wasn’t going to stop being Tallis’s home any time soon it seemed. So, it was just as well to embrace its customs, they supposed. 

Landing Day came, evidenced by some fades bunting hung here and there around the city. Tallis bought a number of specially-iced cakes from Bakes, the bakery, and brought them to share with Rosalyn and Righteous Indignance during the shift. The latter had become something of an unofficial volunteer at the library in absence of much to do at the embassy. 

At the end of the work day, Kyrie was already set and, with the doors locked, Rosalyn led them out the back where they would have an unobstructed view of the Night’s sky through the glass of the dome. Tallis and Rosalyn settled into deck-chairs and Righteous Indignance lowered his spindly body into a unique stool. Nothing happened for a little while, a void which they filled with idle chatter. Then, for the first time since Tallis could remember since arriving here, the drills stopped.

They snapped to attention as, out in the distance of the desert, a tiny dart of light shot into the sky. Finally, it petered out and, following a palpable pause, exploded into a myriad of lights. Painting the deep darkness of the Night with shocking brightness. It was followed by more streaks, more explosions, more colours than Tallis has ever seen in one place on Eleison. 

“Lord, have mercy,” they breathed, glancing at Rosalyn. “You said it ‘wasn’t much’.”

“Well, we don’t like to brag here,” Rosalyn grinned.

Soft oboe music began to ooze out of the city’s speakers. A soothing, mellifluous tune that Tallis thought they’d heard before.

“It’s called ‘Home, Sweet Home’,” supplied Rosalyn, when they asked, “bit of music from Earth of Old. Kind of become an anthem here. Couldn’t tell ya why.”

“That’s my favourite thing about humans, I think,” signed Righteous Indignance, “the music.”

The three of them sat together outside the library in that little dark crevice of the universe, watching the lights in the sky, whilst a song about home wafted in the air. Tallis glanced over their shoulder for a moment at the building behind. The reflections of the fireworks were bouncing off the windows, briefly dyeing the library multitudes of new hues. Eleison’s library was still nowhere near as grand as a good chunk of those Tallis had seen. But it didn’t need to be. It had books. Books that people could borrow whenever they wanted. Maybe not many, but enough. And they could always get more if they needed to. There wasn’t really much more you could ask. Libraries seemed to be something of a constant. For as long as people had been reading, a library or something similar would eventually crop up wherever they settled and built a community. Even on remote little rocks like this. Surviving all societal upheavals and reorganisations like a cockroach of urban planning.

And they’d keep surviving, Tallis supposed, as long as there were books to put in them. 

And there always would be books, as long as people still wanted to read them.

The End