After what felt like several years, but was probably only a few hours, Nuereddin finally managed to escape the Library back to his home universe. He liked his team, of course, and he enjoyed the work - he wouldn’t have applied to be an agent if he hadn’t liked the work or thought he would be good at the tracking and capture that were necessary components of keeping the universes safe. But the paperwork part…the only good thing about paperwork was the number of trees that died in order to make all that paper.
Nuereddin grinned to himself as he made his way through the transit tunnels and came out in his home universe, not far from the cabin he’d built with his brother decades earlier. It was twilight, as usual, and the fire outside was banked but not out. He took a long, deep breath of good, clean, proper air, and let it out slowly as he allowed himself to relax back into the place he belonged. He was home, and he would be able to stay there for a little while at least.
#
Niles made sure Sofya and Beale were safely off to their own universes before taking his own transit tunnel. Veronica very rarely spent more than a few hours in her home universe anymore, making more of a home out of the Library than the shabby studio apartment that had been her base of operations for so many years before she became an agent. As such, she shooed the rest of her team away once the preliminaries of the paperwork were taken care of, and Niles had seen her chatting up a dark-haired woman dressed in an outfit that complimented Veronica’s own as he left. The woman’s throaty laugh followed him out of the room, and he smiled to himself. He hoped Veronica would find someone she felt safe with, as it had been such a long time since the Incident.
Once Sofya and Beale were on their way, Niles meandered through the transit tunnels to the area of his universe, which was quite a long way away from the Modern section where the other two resided. Being part of an epic fantasy universe meant being in a more isolated part of the Library in general; being in a sword-and-sorcery epic fantasy universe was more niche again. He sighed, wishing once again that Nuereddin had waited for the rest of them before running back home; at least the dwarf would have been company on the trip to EpicFan, even if he branched off well before Niles. Nevertheless, Niles knew that he was stalling because he didn’t truly want to go back to his home universe.
With a tremendously deep sigh, Niles passed through the walls of the Library and into his universe. He was in the throne room of his castle, having entered just behind his own throne, and as usual, there was an audience waiting. He took a moment to school his facial expression into something other than disappointment before settling in his throne and nodding to the page standing next to the chair, holding his crown on a velvet cushion. With trembling hands, the boy placed the crown on his king’s head, then stepped back immediately, refusing to look Niles in the face. Niles closed his eyes for a moment, taking the time to remind himself of who he needed to be in this universe, and then opened his eyes and sat back in the throne. “Who or what is on the schedule?”
#
Beale’s commute back to his universe was much shorter, being a branch off a huge limb known as Romance. He was eager to get back, as he always missed his leading lady when he had to be away from her for more than an hour or so. The thing that bothered him the most about being a Modern character was that he was aware of, and capable of using, modern technology like cell phones; however, such things didn’t work when he was in Prime or in some other universes. As such, he hadn’t been able to call or text Kelly at all for almost a day, and it was nearly driving a hole into his very being. As soon as he made his way back into his own universe, his cell phone was buzzing with notifications of missed calls and texts from Kelly, all of them demanding his immediate attention.
Beale had missed a page or two out of the agent training guide, and so had not set up a designated arrival spot in his universe for when he needed to come back from someplace like the Library. Because of this, he didn’t have much control over where he ended up when he came back, and that frequently caused some awkward encounters and conversations. He really needed to fix that at some point. For now, however, he just made sure he hadn’t ended up in a busy road somewhere (that had happened once already, and almost lead to a really sticky situation), then found a quiet place to sit and go through his messages.
#
Sofya sighed with deep relief as she made her way up the steps to her tidy home on the edges of a small town in middle America. It was autumn, and the leaves on the big tree in her front yard had turned color but had not quite started falling yet. A cold wind blew briefly, but the sun was bright in the early afternoon, and the weather didn’t seem to have decided if it was going to swing out of summer entirely or have one last burst of heat. Sofya leaned on her cane at the top of her steps, looking out from her front porch at the yard and the almost-overgrown land around it. For some reason, she didn’t feel the pain in her back and hips quite so badly when she was somewhere other than home, and she nearly forgot that she needed the cane. Every time she came back to her universe, however, the pain was patiently waiting for her, reminding her that she wasn’t the hale and hearty lass of her youth. Still, at least she was able to have these brief interludes, which wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t become an agent. For all the trouble and anxiety, being without pain for even an hour was worth any amount of frustrating paperwork.
#
Nuereddin worked through the ritual of building up the fire and checking the wood pile before even going into the cabin. He knew that he needed to eat, and it would be important to have the coals heated and ready when he had the food - the fire was nearly always his priority. It also gave him a few more minutes to shift from the mindset of dealing with people from the other universes to being back home, and only having to worry about being him. His was a good life, and he didn’t always appreciate it as well as he should.
As he sat by the fire, feeding another small log to the growing flames, he heard the soft footfall of his dearest companion walking toward him. Without looking, Nuereddin spoke. “Missed me, did you?”
A cold, wet nose briefly bumped against Nuereddin’s shoulder, not hard enough to move him but with enough pressure to make it clear the move was intentional and not accidental. Nuereddin heard his companion’s haunches drop to the ground as they sat, still holding themselves up at attention in case something required chasing or attacking, but not actively on alert for intruders, and he felt his shoulders lose some of their tension. If Lomo was relaxed enough to be attentive but not on alert, then they were probably safe.
After prodding the coals once more with the poker his brother had fashioned out of an old pump handle, Nuereddin finally turned to face his companion. Lomo was a beautiful wolf, with amber eyes and grey fur that faded to white around his eyes and muzzle. He was still fairly young, as wolves went, and had been Nuereddin’s companion for more than three cycles. His eyes met Nuereddin’s, and his words appeared in the dwarf’s head as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud. ‘Miss’ is a strong word, but you are a much better cook than Teodor is. Thus, I am pleased you have returned. Lest Nuereddin be underwhelmed by the show of affection, Lomo lowered his head, and the two friends touched foreheads in a manner that spoke of a long, close companionship.
“Well, let’s see what food there is to be had, then,” Nuereddin said, stretching as he stood. Lomo stood and walked next to him, which put his back at about the height of Nuereddin’s waist. It was one of the many things that felt wrong about the other universes - so few things were sized properly for dwarves, and everyone seemed to believe that taller was better. Nuereddin shook his bearded head again, and made his way into the cabin with Lomo, looking for both his brother Teodor and for food that could be turned into dinner.
#
Niles was still on his throne several hours later, having had a parade of peasants pass before him. Each was accompanied by one of his advisors, and each was begging his indulgence for something. Many times, it was a request to forgo or reduce the amount of tax paid for that growing season, as the crops had been quite poor and the people were having difficulty getting enough together to both pay the tax and feed their families. There were a few instances of disagreements between landholders and tenants, usually because the landholders wanted to rent the land out to someone who would pay them more for the same poor piece of land, and the tenants refused to leave. By and large, it was a series of audiences that didn’t require any real decision-making from Niles, simply a symbolic nodding of the head, but it infuriated him nonetheless.
Niles knew what his universe required of him, and what expectations his role in this universe meant he had to meet. He was meant to be a cruel, unfeeling regent, hard on his people and determined to make the most out of their labor and the land while giving back as little as he could get away with. Bad growing seasons and poor conditions were nothing to one such as he, so long as he received his just tribute and the respect due his crown and title. As such, he had to let his advisors have their way with the peasants in these audiences, demanding the taxes be paid and the tenants be removed from land the landholders wished to rent out on more favorable terms. At least in the second instance, the landholders also had to increase the amount of taxes they owed to the crown, so they didn’t see much by way of a profit in changing tenants. Niles was rather proud of that addition, and the way his advisors had looked upon him with approval when he suggested it.
There was only one case left on the schedule for the day, and then Niles could retreat from the throne room and hide away in his study, or in the gardens, or anywhere that wasn’t the room where he allowed such terrible things to happen to his people. He nodded to the page at the door, who opened the door and bowed low, allowing the people to enter the room.
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Niles noticed that this group seemed different than the ones he’d seen the rest of the day. Instead of one or two stout, stalwart men, or even one or two malnourished, desperate men, the people being ushered in were women. Two adult women, their heads and faces covered modestly by the veils their religion required, led a small girl in between them. The girl was young enough that she did not have to wear a veil, and so Niles could see her face. That was unfortunate for the man being ushered in by two of his guards, both with and separate from the group of women.
The girl’s face was bruised, and her lower lip looked as though it had split recently - there was still blood on the skin. She had also been crying, and tears were still running down her face, but she was doing everything she could to keep herself from sobbing. Niles’ heart broke as he saw her tiny fists clench and her chest hitch with a breath that wanted to turn into a wail of pain. The women on either side of her had hands on her shoulders, both steering her into the room and comforting her with their presence.
Niles turned to the advisor who brought the group in. “What is the nature of this request?” he asked, the standard language for beginning an audience. He kept his voice under control, but it was difficult when he could see both the girl’s injured face and the man’s scraped knuckles and the way he kept glaring at the women as though they were dirt on his sandal.
The advisor, one who had been working with Niles since before he had taken the throne, cleared his throat and read from a scroll in front of him. “Your Excellency, the matter stands that Jacob, father of Leah, husband of Sarah, wishes to make a complaint about both his daughter Leah and his wife Sarah, in regards to his granddaughter, Esther. Esther disturbed Jacob’s rest after a long day of work, and when Jacob punished her as is his right under the law, Leah and Sarah berated him, using their sharp tongues to injure him with their words and their evil glares to cause his spirit harm, before leaving the home with Esther. He wants to ensure that Leah and Sarah are unable to take such actions again, and so demands that you put out their eyes and rip out their tongues, thus taking from them their only weapons.” The scroll shook a bit by the end of the statement, and Niles could see his advisor was shocked by what he was being asked to read.
#
Beale took a long, deep gulp of his hazelnut mocha latte, and sighed. No matter how good the baristas in his universe were, they still didn’t hold a candle to the real thing he could get in Prime. He had to remind himself that Prime wasn’t meant for people like him, and that going there was a privilege that could easily be taken away from him at a moment’s notice if need be. He didn’t want to end up one of those Prime junkies he saw outside the Library sometimes, begging for some scrap of Prime to add to their collections. There were whispers about people who had tried to make the jump to Prime permanently, and while some had supposedly been successful for a little while, none had ever lasted more than a Prime year. Prime as a universe simply wasn’t meant for people from other universes. It was a nice place to visit, though.
Beale kept scrolling through the text thread with Kelly, smiling as he saw the different emojis she used to tell him she was falling for him. He had responded in kind, of course, because what kind of boyfriend didn’t use the same language as his girlfriend? A monster, that’s who. He’d already let her know he was back, and they had scheduled to meet up for dinner in a few hours at their favorite Italian restaurant. Beale had already called the restaurant to make sure their favorite table was able to be reserved, and of course, everything worked like a dream. It was one of the best parts about being a major character in a universe - generally, whatever they wanted, they got. Granted, there were consequences at times, but only for the really big stuff, the kind that involved changing the world somehow or getting married or divorced. Things like restaurant reservations, on the other hand, were par for the course.
Once he’d drained the last of his disappointing coffee, Beale stood up from the wrought-iron bench where he’d been sitting and threw the cup in a nearby trash can before making his way back to his apartment. He had some time to shower and possibly nap before he saw Kelly, and he wanted to make sure he was rested and refreshed for her. He knew logically that it hadn’t been that long since she’d seen him, but to him, it had felt like ages. He was a little concerned (not jealous, never that!) that she was mentioning Trevor so much in her texts - it seemed that she was spending more time with him when Beale was away. He needed to remind her how he felt about her, and have a proper reunion.
#
Sofya had the kettle on and was getting her medications in order on the counter when her phone rang. Unlike Beale, she didn’t carry her cell phone with her on trips into other universes, because she liked to keep her pockets free to hold the important things, like her ritual tools. Her phone was sitting on a cat-shaped stand at the end of the kitchen table, where it had been plugged in while she was away. Sofya sat at one of the padded chairs at the table before reaching for the phone, just in case the call would last more than a brief moment.
“This is Sofya,” she said in a low monotone. She hated talking on the phone on a good day, and when she was in pain, it was not a good day. Sofya had found out years ago that if she sounded more robotic, then unknown callers were more likely to hang up instead of bother her. It didn’t seem to work in this case, however.
“Sofya, honey, where HAVE you BEEN?” The voice on the other end of the line was dramatic, full of excitement and excessive hand motions, and made Sofya tired just hearing it. She glanced at her phone’s display to make sure the caller ID hadn’t given her the caller’s name, and saw only an unfamiliar phone number. “I feel like I’ve been calling you FOREVER and you are just not ANSWERING! I need your HELP, sweetheart! You’re the only one who can SAVE me!”
Sofya wondered how someone could use that many capital letters and exclamation points in such a short space. “Hello, Jery,” she replied heavily, unplugging the phone from the wall charger. There was no way this conversation would be over by the time the kettle was ready for her tea, and while Jery was a lot of things, they were not worth neglecting the sacred act of making tea. “I told you that I needed to go out for business for a little bit. I was only gone for what, two days?” Sofya frowned as she looked around her brightly-lit kitchen. “I’d asked you to check in on Vanta while I was gone, but I haven’t seen her… She didn’t get out, did she?”
“Honey, I would NEVER let anything happen to one little HAIR on her precious furry head. I saw her last night and refilled her food and water, and spent some time talking to her about my troubles, since YOU weren’t there to listen. She’s a very receptive listener, you know.” There was an unspoken addition to that statement which hung in the air, and Sofya refused to rise to the bait. Just as she was going to ask again, she saw her cat’s black head poke around the doorway to the kitchen, her fur rumpled as though she had just woken up. Sofya put her hand down to cat-level, and Vanta gave a small chirp and came trotting over, rubbing her head on Sofya’s hand.
“Never mind, she just came out. Thank you for taking care of her, Jery. Now, what do you need? Advice or sympathy?” Vanta jumped up on the table, where she technically wasn’t allowed, and Sofya gave her some skritches behind her ears before using her cane to pull herself to her feet again. She made her way back to the counter, putting the phone down and switching it to speaker so she could continue the conversation without holding the phone to her ear. When she only had one hand available due to the cane, it was inconvenient to use that hand to hold a phone if she had plans to do anything else at that time.
“Advice, of COURSE, doll.” Jery’s voice came out of the phone’s speaker, and Vanta perked up to hear it. No matter how flaky her friend might be, Sofya knew that Vanta loved them almost as much as she loved Sofya, and the feeling was mutual. “But, um, I should probably warn you. I might have told a little bitty lie - well, not even a LIE, really, I just didn’t give every specific DETAIL of the truth - and so, er, I might be in a touch of trouble with the police.” The line went silent just as the tea kettle’s whistle began to sing, and Sofya hung her head in a combination of irritation and acceptance. She was definitely home.
#
Veronica was still working her way through the team’s paperwork, the desk shaking as she pounded on the keys of her typewriter. While she didn’t spend much time in her home universe anymore, not since the Incident, the typewriter was one of the few ways she was able to reconnect with the place that had brought her into being. She never felt quite so much like herself than she did when she was at a desk, typing the night away.
The comments Nuereddin and Sofya made earlier had given her a lot to think about. She knew that the rest of the team saw her as the team’s Gal Friday, particularly when it came to the bureacracy of the Library, and to a certain extent she appreciated it. Veronica had heard an agent from a non-fiction business management universe talk about “subject matter experts,” or people who were heavily trained in one specific area and were the points of contact for other people working in the company who had questions about that one area, and the idea had stuck with her. She saw herself as the SME of paperwork for the team. It gave her a sense of purpose, and made her feel useful and valuable.
All of that was well and good, until the team started to laugh at her. She knew why they did it this time - she had literally quoted from the latest bulletins from the Head Librarians about the importance of proper form completion, and she hadn’t even realized it until they said something. Perhaps that was why the comments bothered her so much - they were pointing out something that she hadn’t wanted to consider for herself, and it wasn’t something she liked. Even so, the way that they made it sound like it was a bad thing to want to do things properly and help the Library be the best at what it was… Well, something about that teasing rubbed Veronica the wrong way.
Veronica finished the form she’d been working on and set it aside, pulling out the carbons so she had the three copies that needed to go to three different locations within the Library. It wasn’t just because she enjoyed the sound of the typewriter that it was so loud and she used so much pressure - using carbons required a great deal of force, but it was so much easier than filling out the same form three separate times or trying to push through a carbon while writing by hand. But no one ever saw that part of it, did they? No, they only saw that Veronica was using her strange machine again, and wasn’t she quaint, wasn’t she queer?
With a sigh, Veronica pulled the cover over her typewriter and stored away the forms that had been filled out, as well as the few that still required work. She would be able to tackle those in the morning, but right now, she was just letting herself get stuck in a spiral of thoughts that were not helpful in the slightest. It was time to get her head down for a few hours, and start the next day off fresh. Her team members were all back in their home universes, so she didn’t need to worry about them for the moment. With luck, by the next time they needed to come together for a mission, she would have gotten over her little snit and would be back to her usual good humor. In the meantime, it was time for a night cap and some time with Sam Spade before falling asleep.
