Chapter Four: Space Station Anubis

Sardis and the Battle for the Library

Welcome to the serial, Sardis and the Battle for the Library, a speculative fiction tale. New chapters will post on Saturdays at 10 am Eastern.

Chapter Three // Table of Contents

My dear Sardis,

If you are reading this, that means I have passed into Eternity. I apologize that I am not there in your time of need, because I am certain only the greatest need would cause you to search me out. I am also certain that time is of the essence for you, so I shall get right to the point.

When I was your teacher, I saw in you an intensity that bordered upon the dangerous. After my retirement, I feared that as you became swept up in the stories and powers of the Library, everything but what you needed in the moment would be swept away. That includes not only your past but much of what I taught you.

If you are reading this, then my fears have come true.

There are five things you need to know above all else:

1. Because the Library Nexus sits outside of time, you cannot measure the amount of time that has passed outside of it. That is beyond you. If you think you have lived tens of thousands of years, then it is my duty to tell you that you are wrong. It is simply that the stories come to you from all points of time, so it only appears that more time has passed.

2. I could write your entire story in these pages but that will not help you to remember. And you must remember. For being grounded in your own identity will help the Library maintain its own boundaries.

3. There are things that wish to eat the Library.

4. Begin your journey at Space Station Anubis at these coordinates. [What followed was a series of equations that made even Sardis go a little cross-eyed.]

5. Finally, be sure to not go alone.

Eagerly, Sardis turned the page but was only met with blank paper. He flipped through the rest of the book, meeting only blank pages.

He dropped the volume and stared hard at it, his mind tumbling like autumn leaves caught in a high wind.

Colleen arrived and set down Sardis’s mug of hot cocoa. “Have y’all decided what to eat yet?”

Sardis didn’t reply. He felt sick.

Drusilla said, “We’ll both have the cheeseburger and fries, thank you.”

“Sounds good.” Colleen made a note. “All the way? We got ketchup on the table.”

“I don’t know what ‘all the way’ means but it sounds delicious. I’d like some of that white condiment for my fries.”

“Mayo?”

“No...”

“Ranch?”

“Yes! That’s the one.”

Colleen nodded and walked away. Sardis turned his gaze out the window. A young couple walked by with a husky frantically pulling on its leash. The woman said something, provoking the man to laugh.

“Sardis,” Drusilla said, her tone sharp. “Are you here?”

He blinked and focused on her. “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Did you find your answers in the book?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He slid it toward her. He picked up his mug and sipped it, sighing at the sweet chocolate and warmth. A little tension slipped from his shoulders. This drink always felt like home to him.

She eagerly opened the book and read the first page. A frown bloomed across her face as she discovered what he did.

“Well, then.” She set the book down. “It’s obvious what to do next.”

“Go to Anubis.” He licked his lips. “But what could possibly be there?” he asked, a small whine creeping into his voice.

Drusilla gave him a long look. “What is the name of your home world?”

The memory of the dream rose up in him: the six legged cows and the body of water. The mysterious person who came out of the cottage, calling a name that was him but wasn’t. But the name of the place slipped away, like sunlight through fingers.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Then that’s what we’re looking for. You have a very unique look, Sardis. Provided that the Library doesn’t change your appearance at the station as it did here, I’m sure we’ll either meet one of your people at the space station or someone who will recognize you. Who knows? We may even find the descendants of your family line.”

Colleen returned with two plates heaped with food, and a little dish of ranch. She left them to their meal.

Drusilla grinned. “We can’t go adventuring on an empty stomach. Eat up!”

---

---

Leaving the Library to go to another world was simple enough. Sardis had only to pull on the cords of energy, harmonizing them into a specific sequence.

Going from one place to another outside the Nexus was a little more difficult. Sardis almost considered returning home to make the jump from there. But he feared that if he did that, he would find an excuse not to go to Space Station Anubis at all.

Drusilla and Sardis stood behind the dumpster behind Smith’s Diner. From his backpack, he took out a book. Drusilla inched forward to look over his arm as he opened it.

“It’s blank,” she said.

“Yes.” He pressed his hand against the pages. “It will strengthen my connection to the Nexus.”

The pages glowed, softly first. As Sardis deepened his connection, reaching for the cords that bound the universes together, the brightness intensified. Drusilla made a small sound, covering her face. He closed his eyes.

When he found the correct combination, according to Bob’s coordinates, Sardis said, “Hang on.”

Drusilla fumbled until she had her fingers hooked into his belt again. Sardis yanked and--

The world lurched around them. The fresh autumn breeze was sharply replaced with stale, recycled air. Bird song vanished, replaced by the loud squeal of alarms, shouts, and the bzzt of blaster fire.

His eyes snapped open. They stood on the edge of a large concourse. People ran along it, ducking down corridors opening along the sides. Shop owners lowered blast doors over the entrance of their businesses.

Someone slammed into Drusilla. She screamed as she toppled. Sardis caught her. The person who hit her, a horned Grimmox, muttered an apology before loping down a corridor to their right.

Shrieking blaster fire drew closer. Sardis’s heart sped and he swallowed hard.

“Come,” he said. Holding her arm, he ran the same way as the Grimmox.

They joined a stream of people in the oppressive hallway. Behind them, a blast door slid into place.

The corridor opened into a broad hallway, with more doors. Shouts from above drew Sardis’s eyes upward. More people swarmed catwalks in their quest for safety.

Drusilla whimpered, leaning hard into Sardis. He draped his arm around her. A few people paused to huddle to talk in the hallway, standing in clusters outside of the rush of movement before quickly breaking apart and moving on. Sardis reached out to the Library for an explanation, but was met with resounding silence. If he was going to get information, he had to look elsewhere.

He turned and stepped in front of a human coming down the corridor. “Excuse me, may I ask what is happening?”

The man halted and scowled. “Why are you askin’ me? I thought Alystians moved in herds.”

Sardis froze, his mind scrabbling for information on ‘Alystians’. The Library remained silent. Panic nibbled on the edge of his mind.

“We got separated from our group,” Drusilla said. “We’ve only just arrived.”

Another human emerged from the crowd, panting. Sweat glistened on his forehead. “Don’t be an ass, Tond,” said the newcomer. “You’ll have to forgive him. His mother didn’t hug him enough as a child.”

Tond scowled.

“Anyway,” continued the second man, “I’m Caelum.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “I think I heard you say you two were separated from your people?”

“Yes,” Sardis said. He glanced over at Drusilla. To him, she looked as she always did but, judging from their reactions, the two men saw her as an Alystian, but left his appearance unchanged. Sardis thought it was interesting that the Library made this particular choice.

“I’m sorry to hear that. And that you came today. Because today, apparently, is ‘Invade the Space Station’ day!” He threw out a hand dramatically. “It’s the Hastians. Gods only know what they want.”

Hastian meant something. They were pirates. Taking on a space station, however, sounded overly ambitious for them. They usually settled for smaller craft that wandered off the main space routes.

Suddenly, the lights cut out. Screams erupted. Sardis pulled Drusilla against himself, wrapping an arm around her. Red emergency lighting came on.

“Oh, fun,” said Caelum.

Tond said, “We have to evacuate one of the shelters.” He didn’t wait for anyone to agree. He began pushing through the crowd and was quickly out of sight.

Drusilla said, “I don’t think much of your friend.”

“He’s not my friend,” Caelum replied. “He’s someone I have the misfortune of knowing. Come with me. The shelters will be overly crowded. My quarters are not far from here.”

A distant explosion rocked the station, sending tremors through the metal floor and walls. More panic flooded the hallway. Caelum pushed them against the wall as what had at first been an agitated stream became a stampede.

Drusilla pressed her face against Sardis’s chest. He wrapped both arms around her shoulders.

“Everything will be fine,” he said, his voice shaking.

Another explosion rocked the station.

---

After the baby’s wail faded into silence, Malo didn’t even think. He didn’t weigh the good and the bad in deciding whether this was a smart decision. He fetched the magic rope out of the cupboard.

Niall chirped, claws digging in deeper.

Malo dropped the rope by the pillar. Reaching up, he disentangled the aerial from his shoulder. “You need to stay here.”

Niall squawked.

“No!” He set him on a nearby table. “You. Stay. Sardis left me in charge, so do what I say. He’ll never forgive me if you were hurt.”

Grumbling, Niall settled down, primly tucking his paws under him like a cat.

Malo returned to the pillar and tied one end of the rope around it. He tied the other end around himself.

He hated tying knots. Once, he tried his hand at being a sailor. He could do everything, except tie the complicated knots. The boatswain very gently kicked him off the boat after a few weeks. No one wanted a sailor who couldn’t tie a knot.

Malo stared at the snarl of rope at his waist. He gave it a tug. It didn’t feel like it was going to anywhere. Sardis never tried to correct him when they did this. But Sardis always struck Malo as one of those “experience is the best teacher” types.

The baby wailed again, its cry high and plaintive. Was it Malo’s imagination or did it sound more faint? Either weaker or the child was somehow moving further away. How did a child even get in there?

But it stood to reason that, if there was something wrong enough with the Library to make Sardis leave, then just about anything was possible.

He took a deep breath and strode into the long aisles of the Library.

---

Caelum’s quarters were deep within the space station.

“We’re near the ambassador wing,” Caelum explained as they walked down a quiet corridor. There was no red emergency lighting here, though a red band of light ran along the top and bottom edges of the corridors. “The blast doors are sturdier and the security tighter. We’re on a separate power grid, as well.”

“And the red band?” asked Drusilla. She held tightly onto Sardis’s hand.

“That means we are under attack and non-essential personnel should remain in quarters or shelters.”

“You must have an important position,” Sardis said. The Library continued to remain quiet about Caelum’s identity. When Sardis reached for the knowledge, the Library slid further away, just beyond his mental fingertips. He felt oddly alone, even with Drusilla by his side.

“In the relative scheme of things, I suppose I do. Sometimes, though, I feel like nothing more than a glorified errand boy. Here we are.” He scanned his hand over a reader by the door. It slid open with a hush. He gestured for them to enter.

Sardis hesitated a moment and then stepped into the room.

It was spacious, with a large sitting area and attached kitchenette. Through an archway was a bedroom. On the opposite end was a closed door that, perhaps, led to the lavatory or another bedroom. Well-used furniture with deep cushions and area rugs in rich, jewel-tone colors warmed and brightened the space. Potted plants sat underneath grow lamps. The same red band in the corridor ran along the edges of the walls of the quarters.

The colors reminded Sardis of Niall. He hoped Malo was taking good care of him. The knot of fear and tension began to ease away. The battle felt far from where they stood.

Drusilla slipped away from Sardis to acquaint herself with a particularly large plant with red-and-blue fronds.

Round windows showed the star-studded void in which hung the station. A small ship, perhaps a fighter, zoomed by.

Caelum must have noted the direction of Sardis’s gaze. He said, “We aren’t planet-side, I’m afraid, so you won’t be able to see Trellis Eleven. Shall I get you something to drink?”

“That would be lovely,” Drusilla replied, sounding distracted.

Sardis said, “What is Trellis Eleven?”

A pause. “Well,” Caelum replied, “the station needed something to orbit. And this is the most neutral space in, well, space.”

“Do many sorts of people come through here?”

“Oh, yes. We’re at the center of several trade routes.”

“Why are there ambassadors?”

Caelum smiled. “Why don’t I get those drinks?”

Before anyone could answer, he walked over to the kitchenette. Drusilla rejoined Sardis.

“You’re asking too many questions that you should know the answer to,” she whispered.

Sardis could feel his face heating up. He straightened his shoulders. “I have to understand.”

“Do you? What does it matter if there are ambassadors here?” She clasped her hands, her face pinched in worry. She glanced over at the door.

It mattered to Sardis because the Library was stubborn in its silence. He felt as if he was floating out among those stars. Knowledge kept him grounded even more so than hot cocoa. Without knowledge, what was he?

“Here we go,” Caelum said, bringing a tray over to a low table in front of the couch. “Help yourself.” He picked up a glass and sat in an armchair, crossing his legs.

“Can the Hastians reach us here?” asked Drusilla.

“They would have to go through a great many soldiers and blast doors. It is extremely unlikely. Please, sit.”

Sardis sat in the armchair across from Caelum, crossing his legs and mirroring his posture. He looked up at Drusilla, who had not moved.

“We have an escape route,” Sardis reminded her. Whatever happened, he had only to pull out a book and transport them elsewhere.

Drusilla sat on the couch between them. The glass shook slightly in her hand as she picked it up. She took a sip.

“This is very good,” she said.

“Amja juice,” Caelum explained. “I brought it back from my last trip out.”

Sardis studied Caelum, now that he had a moment to do so. Caelum wore a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt with a high collar and black, high-waisted pants. On his chest, he wore a pin depicting a sunburst surmounting a dagger pointed downwards. His dark brown hair was cut short and he had a short beard. There was a slight bump on his nose, as if he had broken it once. The side of the boot on the leg he had crossed over his knee bulged slightly, as if a weapon were tucked into it.

Sardis suddenly wanted Drusilla to sit closer to him. Instead, he sipped the drink. It was sweet, with a tart edge.

“Delicious,” he said. “We do appreciate your hospitality. How long do you think this threat will last?”

Caelum replied, “By now, the Hastians have probably already been repulsed. If not, I would have been called to duty.”

“You speak as if this happens often.”

“It has been occurring with an unnerving regularity, I will admit to that.”

Sardis and Drusilla exchanged worried glances.

“What is your duty, exactly?” asked Drusilla.

“I am a Knight of the Sun. We work as bodyguards, protectors--”

“Mercenaries,” Sardis interjected. The Knights of the Sun had made an appearance in several stories he had recorded, for good and for ill.

“With a code of honor. We don’t just work for anyone, after all. But enough of me. Why don’t you tell me of yourselves? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alystians without beads in their hair. Your story must be quite interesting.”

“No story. We are only travelers passing through.”

“Mmmm.” Caelum sipped his drink and then set it on the table in front of him. He folded his hands in his lap.

A distant explosion rocked the station. Caelum’s gaze went to the windows and Sardis’s followed.

Bits of debris floated out in the dark. Brightly colored bits of metal and silvery odds-n-ends caught the light.

Drusilla gasped. “Is there a hole in the station now?”

“Oh, no,” their host said. “That looks like parts of a Hastian ship. I recognized their sigil on a bit of metal. I think their plans of conquest are over for today.”

As if on a cue, three melodic dings sounded through an overhead speaker, followed by a calm, feminine voice, “All clear. Repeat. All clear. Residents and visitors may now leave the shelters.” There was a pause. “Let’s try to not have another emergency today. I have a date this evening and would like to get off shift on time.”

A muffled male voice in the background said, “Lieutenant, I don’t think--”

The voice cut out, followed by another melodic trio of dings.

Caelum smiled at Sardis and Drusilla. “Now, back to you two. I saw you, you know.”

“Saw us?” asked Sardis, feeling a dropping sensation in his gut.

“Yes. You suddenly appeared.” He threw up his hands, making a motion like an illusionist pulling a bouquet of flowers into existence. “I followed you, lost you for a bit, and then found you again. I’m rather glad you stopped to speak to Tond. So. I thought it was in the best interest of all of us if I got you alone for a private chat. Why don’t we start over? Hello. My name is Caelum. And you are?”

Sardis’s heart slammed hard against his chest. His face felt cold. Here he was, in a story, and he had no idea where to turn. Should he trust? Should he not? Should he leave? There were too many choices.

Caelum raised a brow. Sardis felt a soft touch. Drusilla had slid over. Her hand rested on his arm. The world resettled.

Sardis took a deep breath. “My name is Sardis. And this is Drusilla. We are from another plane of existence, called the Forgotten Library.”

He waited for disbelief. Instead, Caelum blinked and huffed a small laugh. He dropped his leg and settled his hands on his knees.

“Well,” Caelum said, “I wish I could say that this is the strangest thing I’ve heard, but it’s not.”

“Really?” asked Drusilla.

“This is space, my flower. Anyone who thinks they understand what is happening here is either full of hubris, or simply not paying attention. What brings you here?”

Sardis hesitated again. He did not think it wise to unburden himself to this man, but he knew a source of information when he saw one. “I’m in search of my home world. We thought a space station would be the best place to start.”

“You search for Alyst?” Caelum shrugged. “I can point it to you on a map. I could even find someone to fly you out there. But you’ll only be able to look at it through a window.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s under a galactic interdiction. No one is allowed on the surface, not after the disaster. Your people, Sardis, are scattered among the stars in a diaspora. Were you born on this other plane of existence?”

Sardis barely heard his question. He was standing, again, on the steps of that house. He was, again, looking at clouds on fire. He had thought the fire was from the dying rays of a setting sun, but, what if not?

Slowly, he came back to himself, and focused again on Caelum, who regarded him with cool, dark eyes.

“When was the disaster?” he whispered.

“Oh. I would say...” Caelum tilted his head, looking up as he thought. “Two hundred and thirty-five standard years ago, give or take.”

“What happened?” asked Drusilla.

“I have heard multiple versions of the story. The most prevalent is they were testing a new piece of tech, and it set their atmosphere on fire. Half the population survived.”

“No,” said Sardis. “That’s not what happened.”

“How do you know that, when you don’t even know the disaster had happened?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just know you’re wrong.”

The Knight sat forward. “Now, you really have my attention, Alystian. All right. I will help you.”

“Help me? Why?”

“I enjoy a good mystery and a good story. I think you have both.”

“There’s nothing I can pay you. Nothing I can give you. What would you gain?”

“A sense of accomplishment.” Caelum smiled. “Don’t worry about payment, friend.”

But Sardis didn’t answer with a smile of his own. He wasn’t sure whether to trust him. He looked over at Drusilla. Their eyes met. She nodded slightly, courage and hope bright in her eyes.

“Very well,” Sardis said. “What is our next step?”

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Chapter Three // Table of Contents

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