Books And Covers Thereof (1.12)

>Think positively. Dante will at least stand out.

“Well, on the bright side,” says Kitty, with a hopeful, rising tone in her voice.  “At least Dante will stand out in this...Sea of women.  ...Five women.  If he shows.”

“You would think,” replies Pamela.

“I would think?  What do you mean, I would think?”

“If you’re expecting a guy with a beard, you’re entirely wrong.  He’s a bit of a pretty boy type, yeah?”

“...Oh.  Damn.”  A rather idealistic mental image formed in her head, a sort of composite Frankenstein’s monster of a pretty boy cobbled together from numerous About The Author pages.  “...Damn.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be your type toots, pardon the cliche’.”

“Probably not, but I’m going to stick with my overly idealized mental image for now so I’ll be even more annoyed when I’m disappointed.”

“...I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

>Kitty: Ask for advice, you're not familiar with how these things should go!

“So...What do I ask them, anyway?”

“‘Are you familiar with a Dante Ilucis?’, that sort of thing.  You could try to get in their good favor first, of course.”

“How?”

“Well, that varies.  Find out something they want or need or are interested in and go about it that way.  Now, if you’ll notice, they’re all sitting apart,” says Pamela, pointing to each of them in turn.  “So they probably don’t necessarily get along.”

“I hope this doesn’t end with a bar fight.  It’s already irritating enough that we’re starting our journey in a bar.  That never ends well.”

> Talk to the bartender first. They always have the latest info and quests.

Kitty takes a few slow breaths, trying to keep herself calm and her heart rate down as she thinks about approaching the bartender first.  As with most attempts to keep herself from screaming and running out into the street, this took the form of a inner monologue of questionable effectiveness.

Okay, Kitty.  It’s okay.  It’s gonna be okay.  She’s a human, like you.  Just...Flesh and blood.  And saliva.  And...Other fluids.  Eww, I nearly forgot how gross people are.  Oh god, she’s a sack of disgusting fluids and germs.  What if she breathes in my face?  What if I get sick? This isn’t helping!  Okay, okay...new tactic.  New tactic, yeah...What new tactic?  ...Right, imagine her naked!  That’ll work!  Okay, three...two...one...And go!  Naked bartender!  ...Oh god, she’s hot.  Good grief, Pamela’s hot too.  What do they put in the Dragon clan’s drinking water?!  Is there some sort of Dragon exercise routine that promotes incredibly shapely proportions?  ...You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Dragon male.  Oh god, what do they look like?  Is this some kind of thing where the males are all repulsive sex fiends?  Or are they all pretty boys, like Pamela said about Dante?  If there are too many Dragons in one room, will I have a heart attack?  Am I going to develop a fetish for Dragon tribe members?  If they all dress fancily I think I might.  Great, because I needed to make things more confusing for me.  How do you ask out an entire Tribe, anyway?  I mean, not that polyamory and bisexuality aren’t fairly common in modern times, the former especially common between our low population, somewhat wide gender ratio disparity, and until fairly recently high casualty rates, but I’m still pretty sure...Why am I thinking about this right now?  ...Oh god, the bartender’s staring at me.  Oh god she’s staring at me.  Oh god, I hope she doesn’t say anything.  Oh god oh god oh god oh god...

“Do you need something?” asks the bartender.  Her voice is low and calm, and that almost makes it worse.

“Um,” stammers Kitty, painfully stumbling through her words.  “Yes.  Yeah.  I do.  Um”

“Well?  What do you want to drink?”

“I, uh...I’m not here to drink.”

The bartender’s eyebrow raises slightly.  “What do you want, then?”  She abruptly flicks the knife that she’s been twirling into the table, where it sticks with a loud and abrupt noise.  Kitty jumps a little.  The bartender just laughs at her reaction.

“Not from this district, are you?”

“Errrm...” Kitty murmurs quietly.  “No.  Um.  I’m here for information?”

“About what?” says the bartender, grabbing the knife, pulling it out of the bar’s top with enough force to throw it right back up into air.  It spun around, slicing through the air on it’s way back down.  The bartender grabbed it out of the air at the last moment, and began to twirl it in her fingers again.

Kitty swallows her heart back into her chest.  She feels as if her life isn’t her own right now.

>Kitty: Politely ask the bartender what she knows about the patrons.

“Can...You tell me, uh, about the other patrons here?”

“...You mean the ones in this room?  Right now?”

“...Y-yeah.”

“...All right,” says the bartender.  She starts by pointing to the ginger-haired police officer.  “That’s Officer Kiplin.  She’s...Ah, got a mean sense of humor.  But she really loves the booze, which would be less of a problem if she wasn't an angry drunk.  I’ve had problems with her in the past.”

“The short girl with the orange jacket and nails is Mindy.  A daughter of one of the four Dragon nobles.  She’s a very enthusiastic sort of person and has more patriotism for the Dragon clan than everyone else in the district combined. Though I think she might just really like dragons.”

“What about the girl in the beret?” asks Kitty.

“I have no clue, but she’s been watching you like she’s starving since you came in.”  The bartender winks.  Kitty winces and glances over at the beret-wearing woman, who waves enthusiastically.

“Eugh.”

_________________________________________________________________

Leave a command below! | Discuss the update in the forums! | View the MSPA Forum Topic! (Currently down)

Books And Covers Thereof (1.11)

>Call your consorts. Tell them to prepare your spy uniform, with all the cool gadgets and shit. If you don't have one have one made immediately.

Kitty immediately begins to regret that she doesn’t have a spy uniform, nor consorts to summon.  She doesn't have that kind of clout with the rest of the city’s LGBT community!

> Anilin: Encourage Kitty that you can provide her with anything she needs with this. Further encourage her with the possibility of rewards later. Like candy!

Kitty jumps a little as she feels Annie’s pink-nailed fingers on her shoulder again, rubbing gently.

“Mmmph,” mmphed Kitty.

“It’ll be fine, Kitty, you’ll see!  I can get you anything you need for this, all right?  And if you do do it, maybe there’ll be a reward for you later.”

“Mmm.”

“Like candy.”

“Mmmrr.”
 

Annie’s eyes flit back and forth like an ancient conspirator, and she leaned next to Kitty’s ear.
“Or things involving leather.”

> Anilin: Think about Kitty wearing leather. /Yay/!

A very large smile crosses Annie’s lips.  Kitty’s eye pops open and twitch a little.

>Kitty: don't think about Pam wearing leather don't think about Pam wearing leather don't think about Pam wearing leather don'tthinkaboutPamwearingleSONNOVABITCH

The combination of leather and the fact that Pamela is straight ahead...

Thoughts scratch at Kitty’s mind.  Dirty ones.  She tries to push the thought of Pamela in a tight leather outfit out of her head.

Kitty had never really been comfortable with her sexuality.  Or anyone else’s, for that matter.  Books were easy.  Fictional characters might be complex and frequently untrustworthy, but you didn’t have to seduce them.  They existed in your head and were mostly unaffected by whatever fantasy you came up with.  You didn’t have to actually touch them.  You didn’t have to spend nights lying awake wondering about their feelings, and whether or not you returned them.

Kitty remembered puberty, very distinctly.  It had been uncomfortable.  There were the...obvious physical changes, but there’d also been noticing that some of the customers were cute, and Lady going on and on about safe sex and something about snapping right off - Kitty had generally zoned out by that point.  She distinctly recalled the painfully awkward sleepover where she had recounted the cute, nice boys who had checked out books lately to Anilin’s complete and utter boredom, leading up to the strange moment where her best friend suddenly grabbed her and kissed her, and that had been a whole different set of complications.  She remembered noticing Pamela’s curves for the first time, and the slow, awkward realization that both sexes had become intensely interesting.

It was all too complicated.  So Kitty shut down and ignored it.  Ignored Pamela’s beauty, ignored Annie’s forwardness and devotion.  That stuff wasn’t really important, and she was better off alone anyway.

It is at this point, then, that she realizes she’s been staring at Pamela for a full minute.

Pamela raises an eyebrow.  “Is something wrong?” she says.

“..N-no,” stammers Kitty quickly, looking away and cursing her mind for wrapping Pamela in leather.

You will need all of your greatest assets for this adventure. Bring books. Lots and lots of books.

“Well...Okay, I’ll do it...” murmurs Kitty reluctantly.  She stands up.  “I’ll go get the books I’m going to need.  It’ll just take a little while, then I’ll be ready...”

“...You’re not taking books,” says Pamela.  Kitty stops halfway out the door.

“...What?”

“They’re not going to help.”

“But I need them.”

“How are you going to carry them?”

“...Carefully.”

“Into a bar?”

“...Very carefully.”

“Kitty.”

“I’m not going anywhere without my books!  And that’s final!”

* * *

“Annie?” asks Pamela, pulling her car into a parking space.  “Has she calmed down?”

“Yes,” says Annie, stroking Kitty’s hair as her head lay on her lap.  “She stopped crying, at least.  Are you all right, Kitty baby?”

Kitty nodded.

“Good!”

“We’re here,” adds Pamela.  “The Purring Kitten.  Annie will wait out in the car with the mysterious fella, but I’ll go in with you just in case.  It can get rough, but it’s a classy enough joint.  Just watch out for the knives.”

“Knives?”  says Kitty.  Annie pats her head calmingly, before Kitty sits up.  The mysterious unconscious man had been carried out to the car and put in the passenger’s seat up front, where he was presently snoring against the window.  This had largely been done on the basis that you never know when something is going to suddenly become useful.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” says Pamela, opening the car door and stepping out.  Kitty sighs, rubbing her temple.  Annie gives her a kiss on the cheek for good luck, then Kitty - blushing slightly - gets out as well.

Kitty follows Pamela as she walks to the Purring Kitten, glancing down at Pam’s legs.  Pamela has been walking with a noticeable limp for years, but she’s never bothered to explain to Kitty what had happened to her leg.  Kitty didn’t want to pry, but it was worrying.

The bar itself was an impressively run-down looking brown cube, set at one end of a busy street.   A lonely security bot, identical to the one Kitty had seen earlier, stood outside the door, keeping a silent vigil.  A neon sign above the bar featured the blue outline of a woman with cat ears, lounging on the words Purring Kitten.  Kitty suspects she’s supposed to be nude, and begins to wonder if she ought to sue someone for defamation of character.

Pamela opens the door for her.  Kitty blushes a little and walks in.

The atmosphere inside is...Smokey.  And quiet; the morning is clearly not their peak hours.  Only a few people sit inside, mostly apart from each other.  They all seem to, after a short look, have something in common.

“There’s no men here, are there?” says Kitty.

“Yes,” says Pamela. “This dive’s more popular among women than it is among men, though there’s still quite a few male customers in it’s busier hours.  Of course, the city population has slightly leaned towards women for the last couple of generations.”

“Why does Dante come here, then?”

“I assume,” said Pamela, adjusting her fedora.  “Because most of the patrons are women.”

Kitty mulled this over for a few minutes.

“...Oh.”

“On the bright side, there’s a good chance that one of these dames has info on our perp.  Possibly more info than we’d ever want to know.”

“...Ew.”

“People with intimate knowledge of the target are always a good source of information, Kitty.  If you can get them to give it up, of course.  We’re the good dames here, so let’s try not to rough up anyone if we can help it.”

“Right.”

“Unless they really deserve it.”  

A few of the patrons in the bar stand out to you.

In the back is the bartender, who seems to be watching you from behind the bar itself.  She twirls a knife - of all things! - between her fingers, giving you quite the eye.  What sort of eye it is, you’re uncertain.  You may not want to know.  What you do know is that she appears to be wearing a fancy black suit, with the jacket open.  A cyan tie, undone, hangs around her neck.

Seated at the end of the bar is a tanned white woman around your age, in a floppy beret covering long, wild brown hair.  You can see her deep red lipstick from here, as well as her complete lack of shoes.  She looks as if she’s watching everyone in the bar like a hawk, a slight raised smirk on her face.

Taking up part of a lounge seat at the other end of the bar is a tall Irish-looking woman with clipped ginger hair, her face dotted in freckles and her otherwise pale skin badly sunburnt and lightly peeling.  She’s wearing most of a police uniform - her jacket and hat appears to have gone missing, leaving only the dress shirt, pants, and boots - and appears to have a bottle of...some sort of alcohol Kitty is unfamiliar with.

Finally, a short black girl with dark blonde hair sits at a table, her feet pulled up onto the chair she’s sitting on.  She taps her fingers on the table, looking quite bored indeed.

What will Kitty do?

_________________________________________________________________

Leave a command below! | Discuss the update in the forums! | View the MSPA Forum Topic! (Currently down)

Books And Covers Thereof (1.10)

> Alternately, check the records to see if a 216 ever existed.

As far as Kitty knows, the records don’t really extend back that far.  She supposes it’s possible, maybe even likely.  But there’s no way she could really check without spending all day diving through records.  She might even have to see if there were still old, well-preserved paper records somewhere in the building that she’s unaware of.  It’s too much effort for right now.  Maybe if nothing else works...

> You've seen enough books to know there is some secret book you pull out to make some room appear.

Kitty certainly finds that a likely possibility, especially if it was hidden by ancient bookworms.

Still, she resists the temptation to just start randomly pulling books.  That’d cause a huge mess, after all, and she hates a messy Library.  If there’s really a book to pull, there’s likely going to be a hint somewhere...

>Get Anilin and Yu to help you pry up the floorboards. 216 is probably in a secret basement.

Hmmm...Another excellent possibility!  But, again, involves entirely too much damage to the Library’s floors with too little to go on.  She puts that one aside for later as well.

>Kitty: Use the secret power all Librarians are gifted with.

Her well-developed shooshing abilities and extensive knowledge of books aren’t immediately helpful here.  Well, the latter would be helpful, if there was anything obvious to go on.  All she sees is a wide, flimsy wooden wall.

...Wait.

...No, no, nevermind.  That would be stupid.

Kitty: Check section 612.

Hmmm...Maybe...Maybe.  She thinks carefully...612.  612.  What’s 612?  Human physiology?

Doesn’t seem super related, but hey.  It’s obviously some sort of puzzle.  They rarely

make sense at first.

She turns and starts to walk away towards 612, which is on a different floor of the Library entirely.  On the opposite side of the building.

>dropkick the wall. its clearly fake

She stops, and glances back.

...No.

No.  Absolutely not.
Right?

Whoever put that wall there couldn’t be that stupid, right?  Yeah?

Because that would be really stupid.

Really stupid.

I mean.

You don’t just put secrets behind walls people can just...Kick them.

That’s.

That’s silly.

...Still.

Better safe than sorry, right?

Kitty sighs and shuffles back to the wall.

She lifts a foot, and firmly stomps it against the wall.

The old wood tears like paper, the momentum of Kitty’s foot combined with a lack of resistance sending her right through it.  She tries to grab a piece to brace herself but this only creates a larger hole.  Kitty hits the ground on her side, eating dirt that appears to have been mostly untouched for decades, maybe centuries.  Maybe longer.  A cold, fell wind blasts over her from out of the murky darkness, overriding the safe, familiar smell of old books.

Whatever rage Kitty felt was immediately surpassed by a deep, primal fear. She scrambled and pawed for her flashlight, flicking it on and looking peering into the darkness by it’s thin light.

It was a long hallway.  There were no shelves on either side, only faint indentions in the wall, ghosts of shelves that existed once.  The ground was, rather improperly, covered in what appeared to be soil.

There was a square trail in the dirt, leading to back to the fake wall, but no dirt was present on the other side.  Kitty cursed herself, remembering now that she had cleaned a lot of dirt a few weeks ago.  She’d merely assumed the Library’s patrons had been particularly unclean that day.

She followed the trail to it’s other end, some way down the desolate hallway.  It turned to the right, into large square alcove in the wall.

Above it, scratched into the stone itself, was 0015.

Kitty gulped, dropped to her knees, and shined the light in.

This alcove clearly contained something...Large, until recently.  Crouching down, Kitty could have fit her whole body in there, and then some.

The light hit the back wall.

Ancient letters were illuminated.

Kitty read them.

HELLO

KITTY

* * *

While Kitty was sleuthing, a few unwitting early patrons had wandered into the Library.  A curious lack of Librarian was noted, discussed idly, and then quietly ignored.

A few minutes later, someone screamed.

The patrons were soon treated to the sight of the Librarian - clad in jeans, sensible shoes, and a tiger sweater - ran out of one of the aisles in back.  She hit the front desk, performed a handstand out of a mixture of adrenaline and sudden recurring childhood memories, held it for a moment, then came down on the other side, landing in the chair.

The patrons clapped politely.  Kitty picked up the phone.   Within seconds a calm, cool female voice came on the other end of the phone.

“You’ve reached the Azalea Family Detective Agency.  Frauds exposed, slimeballs slimed, cheaters cheated, cryptozoological mysteries demystified, and cute dames rescued.  This is Detective Pamela Azalea speaking, how may I help you, toots-and-or-big-fella?”  The voice paused only half a second before adding. “If you are calling about my father, he’s not in right now.  All panties should be forwarded to the" - a heavy sigh followed - "usual address.”

“Pam!” hissed Kitty.

The silence on the other end of the phone was indicative of someone who has already figured out exactly how this is going to go.

“Kitty,” she said after a while.

“I’ve got a problem!”

Pamela sighed.  “Overdue library book, right?”

“Yes!  And worse!”

“...Worse?”

“Yes, Pam!  There’s a strange man in pink handcuffs upstairs!”

“...Go on.”

“...Well, I mean, Annie cuffed him, and-”

“...I feel like I’m missing some details here.”

“Well, anyway!  We’ve got a strange man locked up and robots are after him and there’s an evil aisle behind a false wall!  Evil!”

“...Okay.  Kitty, I think I better come by so we can sort it out there.  Hold tight, I’ll be over shortly.”

* * *

Kitty soon found herself in a locked reading room, staring at the floor while listening to the scratching of Detective Pamela’s pencil.  Annie stood behind her, rubbing Kitty’s shoulders in a sincere effort to keep the Librarian from losing her mind.  Downstairs, Yu was taking care of the Library patrons.  Kitty didn’t want to think about that.  She’d inevitable have plenty of time to have a panic attack about it later.

The private detective was a striking black woman in her early twenties, of mixed - however technically archaic these days - African and British Indian descent.   Whatever else you could say about Pamela, the most notable was that she had style.  She was presently wearing her usual “work uniform”; a brown vest over a collared dress shirt and black tie, a long skirt, a pair of close-fitting ankle-length tan boots.  A tan suit jacket and fedora hung off the back of the chair she occupied presently, a beloved brown cane lay across her lap.  Her legs were crossed and her back was very straight, regarding the notepad with cold, surgical care.  She had deliberately nursed a tendency to use slang she’d picked up from reading old hardboiled detective stories, a trait that had only helped her image.

She tapped her pencil against the paper in thought.

“A John Doe chained up in your living room after running from the police,  a missing book you don’t remember checking out, Dante Ilucis, and what is either a disturbing message to you hidden in an unused portion of your Library or a very unfortunately placed promotional message for an anthropomorphic cat.  Got our work cut out for us.  I can shed some light on the Dante Ilucis mystery, though.”

Kitty looked up at her hopefully.

“He’s the eldest child and only son of Lord Ilucis, one of the noble Dragon families in the Court.  The gink lives in upper levels of the Dragon’s Den Hotel, ritziest joint in town, but he frequents a popular little place at the end of Faust Boulevard called the Purring Kitten.”

“Hehe, like your name!” said Annie.  Kitty groaned.

“How do you know that, anyway?” Kitty murmured.

“Because I drink there too.  But it ain’t necessarily gonna be easy to get an audience with him.  I’ve got word that there’s something big going down at the Dragon’s Den tonight, right?  Something private, and they know my face.  They certainly aren’t gonna let me in without a reason.  But I figure, we go downtown and hit up a few places, maybe chat up a few of his friends, maybe we’ll figure out something.”

“...We?” said Kitty, her heart sinking further.

“Yeah, we.  I told you, they know my face.  And Anilin’s the princess.  You might be the Library, but most people aren’t gonna remember your face.  We’re going to need you to talk to people and get on their good side.”

“B-but...I c-can’t...”

“Sure you can, Kitty!  It’ll get easier once you’ve tried!  And you do need to get out sometimes, I’m worried about your health,” said Annie.

Annie and Pamela both looked at Kitty intensely, waiting for some kind of answer.

Kitty gulped.

____________________________________________________________________________

Leave a command below! | Discuss the update in the forums! | View the MSPA Forum Topic!

Books And Covers Thereof (1.9)

>Kitty: Tell him you haven't seen a disheveled man RUNNING through your library. (He has mostly been unconscious the entire time, and that's the truth.)

“Oh, um,” begins Kitty, thinking very cautiously and choosing her words with the care expected of someone who only spends their time around books.  “I haven’t seen anyone like that, running through the Library.”

“Oh,” says the robot, the single eye turning downwards.  Kitty felt robots shouldn’t be able to look crestfallen, but this one certainly did.

“Sorry,” she added.  “I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“I hope so, miss.  Maybe they won’t disassemble me this time,” says the robot, dourly.

>Kitty: Inquire as to what he wants with the man in a roundabout manner.

“Uh, if you don’t mind sharing, what’d he do?”
“Oh, heavens miss, I’m not too sure.  They don’t tell us nothing, you know how it is.”

“Um. I don’t, really.”

“Oh, my apologies, miss.  See, they don’t tell us precisely what crimes people’ve done, right?  They just give us a few photos, maybe a name and a location, and tell us to go bring them back to one of them more, what do you call, flesh and blood cops, like the Captain lady. Sometimes we bring them back to Father.”

“Your creator?” This was an easy guess.

The robot nodded.  “Yeah.  Sometimes he’ll tell us to find people.  Never tells us to do anything bad to ‘em, though.  I think his friends just got a way of getting lost, miss.”

“Is he the one who disassembles you?”

“Oh, no, certainly not, miss!  Father loves us.  Father is good to us.  He would never do that to us, Father wouldn’t.  No sir!  Er, ma’am!”

“Then who does?”

“We don’t like to talk about They Who Disassemble The Unworthy, miss.  Which is okay, because I don’t actually know who they are.”

“Oh.”

>Kitty: Ask him if he's in the market for a new job. I see no way having a large metal man who doesn't need to eat and has no concept of money on staff could be a bad thing.

“Sooo.  Uh.  Are you going to be in the market for a new job, then? Because I could use a giant metal guy to help me out with the Library.”

The iris zooms in and out a few times, in thought.  “What?”

“You know, carrying books...Organizing books...Tracking down books.”

“I do not understand.”

“In fact, I have a book that needs tracking down right now.”

The robot appeared to be considering this.

“Oh, uh.  I suppose that might be all right, miss.  I like to be useful.  Er.  Who has the book?”

“Dante Ilucis.  If you’ll stay right there, I’ll just-”

The iris zoomed in and out, several times.  “Please, miss, what was the name again?”

“Dante Ilucis?  D-A-N-T-E.  I. L. U. C. I. S.  The c makes...Kind of an s sound, I think?  I could be wrong, though.”

The iris whirred with more movement.  “I cannot do it.  I am sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I cannot do it.  I am sorry for bothering you.  Good day, miss.”  The robot tipped its head, put its hat back on its head, and lumbered off down the street solemnly.

“Wait!”  you shout as he walks away, still holding the pile of books.  “I got this books for you!  Isaac Asimov!  You’d probably find them interesting!”   He just continues to ignore you, walking away.

What was that all about?  Whatever it was, it’s over now.  Kitty turns and walks back to the desk, remembering the next order of business.  She sits down at the computer.

“Kitty?”  calls Annie’s voice from upstairs.   “Are you still alive?”

“I’m fine!  I’ll be up in a few minutes!” Kitty calls back.

She clicks ILUCIS, DANTE’s overdue notice on the screen.   As it expands into more information, her eyes scan over it...

Hmmm...He checked out a book called the Zoinomicon.  Sounds like a Necronomicon ripoff aimed at girls named Zoey. It's primary author was...A. Reddtyde.  That's quite a ridiculously last name  Let’s see...the number is 216.015.  Odd, didn’t know we even had a 216.  What’s even in 216?  I think that’s in the religion category...

“Kitty?!”

“I’ll be up in a few, Annie!  Just give me a little while, okay?”

Kitty opened on of the drawers on her desk, taking out a flashlight  and a small, if incomplete, map of the Library’s unusually expansive space.  She glanced around for the start of the 200s, before standing up and heading down the aisles.

* * *


Kitty glanced to her left.

“215 - SCIENCE & RELIGION” read a small gold plaque at the top of a bookshelf.

Kitty glanced to her right.

“218 - HUMANKIND”, read another at the top of a different bookshelf.

Kitty looked straight ahead.

There was no gold plaque announcing the existence of 216, let alone 217.  There was no bookshelf.  There wasn't even a single book.

Just an old, decrepit wooden wall.  It had not been repaired or replaced in a long time, from the looks of it, and stood out among the old stone walls of the Library’s lower floors.  If division 216 and division 217 had ever existed at all, they were long gone.  But why the gap?

Kitty’s thoughts shuffled around her head, pushing and shoving for dominance.  Was it a prank?  Maybe a glitch?  But no, no, the database had never been wrong, was never wrong.  She had always been careful.  If nothing in the Library had ever been put in division 216, it wouldn’t be in the database.  That wasn’t just a hope, that was a fact.  Revisions to the system the Library used hadn’t been made since the apocalypse.

Division 216 had to exist.  It had to.  There was no other way.

But where the hell is it?