Pathways - Jeri Taylor [62]
“After the mutiny,” the woman chimed in eagerly. “It’s part of the Bounty trilogy. A thrilling story.”
Harry’s heart quickened. “Then you have it here?”
“I have no idea. I read it when I was a child, in Ohio. I wonder whatever happened to that book?”
Harry’s spirits plummeted again. This was maddening— how could he convince Nimembeh he’d done everything he possibly could, and had come up short? But Charlotte had held up a finger, as though thinking of something, her pale beige forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Bounty . . . Bounty . . .” she was muttering. “I think I’ve seen it . . .”
“Where?” asked Harry quickly. He stared at Charlotte, willing her to remember.
“Was it on four? Or six? I think it was on an evennumbered floor. And it was near a window, because I remember looking up and seeing one of Starfleet’s hover-craft passing by.” She smiled at Harry, pleased with herself. He waited politely for her to add to her recall, but nothing more was forthcoming. He drew a breath.
“So it’s probably on floor two, or four, or six—”
“Or eight. That’s if I’m right about it’s being even-numbered.”
“And somewhere near a window.”
“I’m fairly certain. That is, if it was the book I was looking at when the Starfleet vessel went by. It could have been another one.”
Harry stared at her, wordless. Then he nodded and thanked them, mentally calculating the time it would take to search for the book with that vague description of its possible location. As he climbed the old and worn stairs to the second floor, he realized he could spend all day and night in this place without success.
Two hours later he’d given up on the second floor and climbed to the fourth, where he began sneezing. Dust had collected on the vast array of books—didn’t their airfiltration system reach to the fourth floor?—and was irritating his nose. Great. Trapped in a fruitless quest for a book that might not even be there, and invaded by allergens as well.
He had headed for the window wall and begun his systematic search when, in the third aisle, he saw her, standing against a bookshelf, an open volume in her hands, reading.
It was the woman in whose seat he had mistakenly sat when he went to the Ktarian music festival.
Her fierce concentration on the book seemed to endow her with a quality of mystery, and he found himself stopped in his tracks, staring at her, as intimidated now as he’d been when he first saw her weeks ago.
Her eyes lifted and briefly caught his, then flickered back to her book without showing even a passing interest in him. But to Harry the look was electrifying, and he could feel the effect in the marrow of his bones.
He forced himself to resume his search, carefully poring over the rows of books, checking the angle to make sure he could still see a window from where he stood.
Then he went back to the third aisle and glanced down it. The woman was gone.
He felt a momentary regret, then shrugged his shoulders. He was there on a quest, and didn’t need distractions. It was just as well this beautiful young woman had slipped out of his life once more. He headed for the as-yet-unsearched fifth aisle and began again. Then soft footsteps caught his attention and the black-haired woman rounded the corner of the aisle and began browsing just opposite him.
Harry felt the air around him become suddenly close, and it was difficult to breathe. He glanced over his shoulder as the woman moved slowly in his direction, eyes scanning the books. He tried to concentrate on his own task, but was overwhelmingly aware of her presence as she inched, inexorably, closer and closer.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her arm extend and her hand remove a book from the shelf. His mind worked desperately to think of some clever way to start up a conversation, but everything he thought of sounded trite and forced. He didn’t even want to mention the music festival because he was certain she wouldn’t remember him.
Finally he decided on just saying hello and asking if she were looking for a specific book, too. He turned,