The Lost Plot (The Invisible Library #4)

The room in question had a whole ring of computers around the central table, and was clearly the research nexus for the area. A pile of research notes in the middle were gathering dust. Irene commandeered some plain paper and a pen, passing it to Kai. ‘All right. Here’s what we’re going to do. Jin Zhi couldn’t tell me the name of the world where the target book is located, in the terminology Librarians use. And I was hardly going to let her take me there. So she gave me as much information as she had about the world and the relevant version of Journey to the West. Now I’m going to drop Coppelia a quick email and warn her about the situation. You’re going to research the book while I search for the world, and then we’ll compare notes. We’re looking to find a place that matches Jin Zhi’s description, and which also contains the correct edition of the book. Right?’

‘Right,’ Kai said, dropping down in one of the chairs. ‘So – the book is Journey to the West. And according to Jin Zhi, the plot contains higher-than-usual amounts of political satire, and a vastly increased plot for the dragon. And almost all copies were confiscated by the Chinese state at the time, due to this political satire. Anything else?’

‘I wish there had been,’ Irene said, seating herself more carefully. ‘Go for it! Best of luck.’

Her email to Coppelia was answered almost immediately. That in itself was worrying. Kai came round to read the response over her shoulder.

You do keep getting yourself into trouble, don’t you, Irene?



Now that was totally unwarranted.

I’m currently in the middle of something else extremely serious, I’m afraid. Other ongoing projects, and you’re not the only fish in the sea. But you’re right – this could be very bad indeed. So I want you to take this directly to Library Security – which is what I’d do anyway. I’ll arrange a transfer shift from your current location to the central lifts in an hour’s time, command word ‘unreliable’. Take a lift down. You’ll need to speak to Melusine, and I’ll let her know you’re coming.



‘I’ve never been down to Library Security before,’ Kai said. He sounded a little too enthusiastic about it.

‘Nor have I,’ Irene admitted.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’ve never done anything that warranted it, that’s why not. You really don’t want to get involved with Library Security, Kai.’

Hopefully this will be a false alarm, but be very careful if it isn’t.

Coppelia



Irene sighed. ‘Right. We have an hour’s deadline. Back on the job.’

She and Kai settled into their research. The Library files on alternate worlds varied in terms of how much information they contained, but they usually had at least basic history and socio-politics. She could rule out at least half the possible worlds. Jin Zhi had been clear that the book’s world of origin didn’t contain magic – or at least none that actually worked. (There would always be people who claimed to be able to use magic, whether it worked or not.)

Jin Zhi’s notes had said America was the dominant power in the target world, driven by a huge surge in American exceptionalism and manifest destiny, and all that sort of stuff, in the early nineteenth century. It had broken away from Britain, but without civil wars before or after. China had been invaded by various powers and was a collection of warring states. Europe was barely hanging together, merged into a quivering mass, mostly controlled by a republic centred in France. (Previously on good terms with America, currently shifting to a who’s-going-to-invade-first basis.) Africa and Australia were both off on their own and doing quite nicely for themselves, thank you very much. And nobody at all was on Antarctica, except possibly penguins. Some mass-communications technology, telephones and radio, and so on. Heavy criminal activity in America, Europe and Britain, serious enough that Jin Zhi had thought it worth mentioning as a background detail. Electricity, but no nuclear power. Contraception. Lots of guns.

Irene rubbed her forehead as she noted down possible alternate worlds that would fit the description. She hated guns. They were so unreliable. A stray bullet could hit anyone.

After much data-sifting, and with fifteen minutes to go, the Library records had revealed four potential alternate worlds. She raised her head from the computer screen to look across at Kai. ‘Any luck?’

‘Still checking,’ Kai muttered.

Kai went back to his half of the research, and Irene pulled up the Encyclopaedia function on her own screen. This bit of the Library archives didn’t relate to worlds or to books, but to Fae and dragons. It was a compendium of information contributed by Librarians in the field, heavily biased and full of personal opinion, so it wasn’t necessarily reliable. On the other hand, it was better than nothing.

She wanted to be doing something. Time was limited, the stakes were high, and there was no knowing what Jin Zhi might do when she found out that Irene had slipped away. Irene tried not to think about what might happen if Jin Zhi held a grudge. She might have to retire her Irene Winters, freelance translator, friend of Vale identity permanently. That would be a shame. She liked being Irene Winters.

As it was, the upcoming meeting with Security loomed in her mind. They had a reputation of the scorched earth type. If they were involved, then it was because a Librarian had done something bad enough to warrant extreme punitive action. Even though Irene had a relatively clear conscience at the moment, she didn’t like the thought of willingly marching into their jaws.

Five minutes later she was tapping her pen on the notepaper and muttering to herself. Nothing on Jin Zhi, and nothing on Qing Song – or at least, not under those names. Nothing personal on the Queen of the Southern Lands, though there was a twenty-year-old listing of her ministers and various worlds where she had influence. Irene sent that document to the printer, frowning. Something Kai had said earlier was nagging at her . . . they were supported by their families, that was it. ‘Kai, can you tell me anything about the families of our two candidates?’

‘Jin Zhi is of the Black Mountains family, and Qing Song is of the Winter Forest—’ Kai started.

Irene held up a finger to pause him. ‘Kai, I meant to ask this earlier. All the references to oceans, lands, mountains, forests – is this a translation issue? Does it mean something different to dragons?’

‘Yes,’ Kai said, drawing the word out slowly. ‘But it’s not exactly a translation issue. I’ve carried you between worlds before now, so you know that dragons perceive the way the worlds are placed differently from humans.’

Irene nodded, remembering an endless blue space with countless currents flowing through it in deeper shades: like a sea raised into the sky, or a sky as deep as the oceans. ‘Yes, that’s true. All I could see was colour and emptiness. But you saw – no, you perceived – it differently?’

‘Right. But I’m sorry, there aren’t human words to express it.’ Kai spread his hands helplessly. ‘It’s something we have to learn through experience. And we refer to some areas within and between worlds as oceans, or lands, or mountains or forests, or rivers, because those are the terms that we associate with our perceptions of those places. And that’s why some families or some kingdoms have the names they do, because they refer to a particular world or group of worlds. Earth references are generally more orderly places, and water references are less orderly. Other than that, I can’t give you convenient translations.’

‘Well, drat,’ Irene said. ‘So much for my hopes of learning a new language and expanding my perceptions.’