Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [72]
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was barely audible.
Shel spoke slowly. He had to, picking his words from a limited vocabulary: “A traveler. I mean no harm.”
“I am glad to hear it. Why are you here?”
“It would be helpful if you dismissed your aides.”
But he didn’t understand what Shel was saying. “My Greek is not good,” Shel said. He repeated his request, speaking slowly, enunciating carefully.
“Oh. Yes,” said Aristarchus. He directed the guards to go.
They surprised him by refusing to abandon him to what must have seemed a demon.
“I must insist,” said Shel. “What I have to say is for you only.”
Aristarchus repeated his directive. Reluctantly, the guards left. When they were gone, Shel produced his converter and showed it to Aristarchus. “If we had wanted to create a problem,” he said, “surely you realize no one here could have stopped us.”
Aristarchus repeated his question: “Who are you?”
“A friend of the Library.”
“Why are you here?”
“As we told you, to find my father.”
“You are human.”
“Yes.” He paused. Took a deep breath. “When we said we were travelers from a distant place, we were telling you the literal truth.”
Aristarchus gathered his robe around him. “The world is wide,” he said. “I suspect it is about to get wider.”
Shel nodded. “We travel in both space and time.”
“Explain, please.”
“We come from another era. We come from an age when the glory of Hellas and Rome are still admired. But they have been gone a long time.”
“You come from a time that has not yet happened? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“After what I’ve seen today, Shelborne, I am prepared to believe almost anything.”
“Then know that, in my time, the Library, your library, is also gone.”
His eyes closed briefly. “What happened to it?”
“No one is sure. But it persisted a long time.”
“What about the books?”
“A majority of them will be lost also.”
“Diana help us.”
“We will not even have a good accounting of what was here. Only that it was the pride of the ancient world.”
His head sagged.
“Aristarchus, your name will survive.”
“That’s not much consolation.” His eyes lost their focus. For a long time neither spoke. Shel became aware of the rumble of the sea. “That is the real reason you have come.”
“It is one reason. I had hoped to find my father.”
“And to reclaim what is here.”
“We reclaimed a little of it today.”
“Is this the first time you’ve been here?”
“It is.”
He allowed himself a pained smile and reached into his toga for the gooseberry. He put it on the table in front of Shel. “You looked at nine books today.”
“Yes.”
“Nine books,” he said again. “We have half a million.”
“Fortunately, some books survived. From other sources. Others, perhaps, have lost their utility.”
“You were planning to come again?”
The answer to that, a few minutes ago, would have been no. But something had changed. “Yes.”
“I will alert my staff. When you return—”
“No. Don’t tell them about me.”
“Why not?”
“I ask it as a favor. I’m probably in violation of my father’s code even now. By telling you as much as I have.”
“All right. I suppose I can understand that. But when you come again, let us know, let me know, and I will see that you get everything you need.” He stood. “Shelborne, I am more indebted to you than I can say. We all are.”
Shel was missing some of what he said. But the general thrust was obvious enough. “Then we help each other.”
“Yes.” He paused. “I am almost afraid to ask my next question.”
Shel waited.
“How far have you come?”
“More than two thousand years.”
“At least the disaster is not imminent.” His eyes narrowed. “It isn’t imminent, is it?”
“No. The Library has a long life ahead of it.”
“Good. Thank you.” He lowered himself into a chair. “What is your world like?”
“How do you mean?”
“Do people live in harmony?”
“Some do.”
“Have you maintained the rule of law?”
“Yes.”
He saw something in Shel’s face and frowned. “Maybe I should stop while I still