Book Eight, Chapter 1: The Copy Job

The University of Carousel library was vast, but its rooms were usually narrow and out of the way, with anyone who wished to explore them needing to pass through several sections before finding their target. It was more like catacombs, and it had nearly as much dust.

Camden, Anna, Cassie, and an NPC named Pietro were holed up inside the preservation room deep in that labyrinth, circling around a sophisticated machine designed for scanning books.

A book could simply be set down in the cradle, and then a scanner would come down and get an exact photographic image of both pages in high detail before rising back up so that the pages could be turned again.

In the distance, explosions were going off. Guns were being fired, either by campus security or the military.

Cassie sat on the ground, reading through an old journal with the name Dr. Logan Maize on the front. She was studying it religiously, trying to get to the gist of what it had to say.

But it wasn’t time for her to speak yet, because they were all Off-Screen.

“How much longer?” Anna asked, looking at the door, wondering when the others would be back, if the others would be back.

“This takes time,” Pietro said. “It wasn’t meant to be rushed. The preservation of literature is not a race.”

Camden looked up at her reassuringly. “It’s almost done,” he said. Then he looked to Pietro and noted, “You have to unfold that map completely. You’re missing some information.”

Camden was careful not to actually look at the page, but was instead using one of his tropes called Peer Review to tell if the information was being transferred completely.

“Oh, right, I missed that,” Pietro said. “Nice catch.”

Pietro’s nimble fingers continued to scan the pages of the book, but it wasn’t just any book; it was the Carousel Atlas, a volume far larger than almost any other book in the archives.

“This Atlas contains all of the information humanity will need to rebuild civilization… for whoever survives this,” Pietro said dramatically.

“Yes,” Camden said. “That’s right. All the information for humanity. Gotta get it finished.”

“To think,” Pietro continued, “all of these books around us will rot, and the sum total of human knowledge will become what we manage to record today.”

“Yeah, so we’d better hurry,” Anna said. She looked to Camden. “Why is he talking all poetic Off-Screen?”

“I think Carousel’s messing with us,” Camden answered. “He’s almost done. Don’t worry.”

We needed an NPC to copy it so that none of the players risked spoiling themselves with any of the off-limits information inside the book. Learning secrets of storylines ahead of time could cause real problems if you ever ran the story yourself, so it was best if you just never looked at the spoiler section.

There was a knock at the door. Anna quickly moved to open it. She knew there was no danger because the enemy of this storyline would have no need for knocking.

Kimberly walked through quickly.

“We need to be done soon,” she said. “They’re almost here.”

“Just a few more pages,” Camden said. “I promise it was worth finding an actual archivist. The cursed Kinko’s, or whatever it was called, wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near this quality.”

It also wouldn’t have been nearly as hard to use, but Camden had made his case, and we had all gone back to college for it.

“It’s all my fault,” Pietro said as he stopped working the machine. “I should never have opened that box. None of this would have happened if I had just heeded Professor Maize’s warning. I’ll go fight them off. Heck, it won’t be much of a fight, but I might be able to buy you some time. You all run for help if there’s any help that remains.”

He looked to the sky dramatically.

“No,” Camden said. “You have to copy the Atlas, because you know how the machine works. We’ll be okay. Let’s stick to the plan.”

“You’re right,” Pietro said. “This is more important than any of us. Without this final light of humanity, we are doomed. This is the least I can do to make up for my mistake.”

“Sure, buddy, that’s right,” Camden said.

After a few more scans, Pietro was finished.

“That’s it,” Pietro said. “With one last button, we can create as many digital copies of this book as we need. We can make sure everyone has a copy.”

“Well, not everyone,” Camden said, “but a lot of people, you know, a few people that we trust. Be sure to put it on a few thumb drives and get one full-color copy in that really nice binding. You know which one I’m talking about.”

Pietro nodded and then began typing into the computer.

“There, it’s printing,” he said. “Now, when the spiders have finally been dealt with, humanity will be able to rise from the webs and reclaim the world of the living.”

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“And we’re all very glad about that,” Camden said. “Now, let’s move. Riley, if you’re watching this and haven’t talked to our immortal friend yet, you had better get on it. The story is almost over.”

In fact, I had been watching.

As they were scanning the book and delaying the final battle against the spiders, I was sitting in a comfortable red theater chair, watching the whole thing go down. I had brought my Raw Scene trope so that I could even watch Off-Screen moments if they happened in locations where scenes were being shot.

I stood up.

“Break time! Out! Intermission! Whatever it is I’m supposed to say!” I yelled.

Suddenly, the projector stopped rolling, and the image came to a halt. The lights in the theater came on.

I had recently gotten an upgrade to my Director’s Monitor trope, a replacement, more like that had all the same abilities, except it allowed me to take a break in the middle of a movie and go greet my fans.

I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to that.

In truth, I was a bundle of nerves. I started to make my way down the aisle, where one of several guards was waiting for me. Not only had they gotten rid of the back door out of the theater, which would lead to one of the many hallways in the Tower, but now I had goons watching over me.

On the bright side, I could move around under my own power, where I never could before without a whole lot of planning.

“This way, Mr. Lawrence,” one of the guards said.