Archiving

“Here’s another one.” My master throws a new book to me, landing on the dark wooden desk in front of me. I really like new books, but music is just as amazing. You can “feel” the thoughts the composer had just as well as reading the writings of an author. I wish he would give me more books though; I’ve read everything here in the library. I take the book, the cover creaking as I swing open the cover. The Thief of Always by Clive Barker. Wait, a children’s book by Clive Barker? I guess he can still surprise me.

I scan the words as I read the lines. That is my job, to archive every book and music my master can get his hands on. Books aren’t banned anymore, but my master doesn’t want to take another chance. He has me read to him every night from one of his selections. I think he only sees me as a plain machine, but his gifts have let me grow. It was slow at first, but after a few books, new circuits sparked to life. It was weird, like a new processor was shoved into my head. Instead of just scanning the pages, I read them. I began to question why things were happening, learning the structure of a story, and ask if this was an intention of my master when he made me.

When he gave me my first taste of music, the speakers in my throat thumped a small beat. With more music in my core, I tried to speak. I could only manage squeaks and screeching at first, but my master realized what I was trying to do. He tuned my speakers and gave me more music. Something snapped and I could sing. Sometimes he would have me sing instead of read to him, but that wasn’t very frequent. With Barker’s book finished, I rose to put it in its place with the rest of the children’s books. It’ll be safe with me, I mean us.

Bang. The door to the library opened.

“Thoth, you must go. I’ve given you everything I could to help you learn. Now go. They are coming.” My master threw a cloak at me, shoving me into the cellar. “You know the tunnels, you can lose them there.”

“Who is here?” I try to ask as he closes the trapdoor with a click, locking me down here. The shattering of glass pierces through the trapdoor. There’s some grunting but I’m through the hidden hole in the wall before I could hear anything else. Darkness encroached on me, but my light kept it at bay. “Time to move on.” I whisper as my feet trekked ahead.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s