The Wounded World

Books About Building Planets

"Question one," John stated. "Who is Mr. B?"

"Mr. Black, of course. Grise." Oliphant didn't seem to mind answering that question much.

"I guess that's not too surprising," John replied. "Question two. What is Dad up to?"

"I don't know," said Oliphant sullenly. "He doesn't tell me anything."

"Question three. How long has he not been telling you anything?"

This question gave Oliphant pause. "You mean, how long have we been friends? Centuries. How long since he began this silly scheme? About two decades. And I'm not saying another word."

"What's the scheme?" John leaned forward eagerly.

"I don't know."

Quin cleared his throat and leaned closer to Oliphant. Oliphant looked up at him with a nervous glance; his hand was starting to tremble.

"Um, well..." Oliphant stuttered. "I mean, I guess it won't hurt if I tell you a little."

Quin leaned in even more closely, until his nose was only inches from Oliphant's.

"Okay, okay, so he wanted to share knowledge between worlds and then the Committee didn't like that so he just decided to do it himself. But that's all I know, I swear. And sometimes he sends me to fetch books or other literature that he thinks is valuable. And I don't know anything else. Nothing!"

"Is A Dialogue of Worlds one of the books Dad sent you to fetch?" John continued.

"Yes."

"Give me some examples of some other books Dad has sent you to acquire."

"Umm... mmm... let m-me think. A World in a Stone, and Medicine to Cure the Dawn of Sin, and Stripping the Planetary Core, and um, well, there was Reason and Space Combined..."

Quin watched as John's face grew darker. The wrinkles on his forehead grew deeper, and his pupils began to dilate, almost as if he were becoming afraid.

"...and there was Massive Science of the Third Century: the Planetary Edition, and everything by Vladimir Voskovechev, and Once it Rained Dinosaurs But Not Here, and The Building of Earth: A Documentary Companion..." Oliphant seemed to be getting slightly more comfortable until John cut him off.

"Enough!" John exclaimed. "This is insane. Most of these books are centuries old, presumed lost to time, or filled with completely inaccurate information. And you mean to tell me that Grise is collecting them?"

"Y-yes." Oliphant had shrunk so much at this point, that he was nearly invisible in the couch.

John looked up at Quin and met his eyes, communicating something very loudly. Unfortunately, Quin was only adept at reading John's looks when he knew what was going on, and he was clearly missing something here.

"Meriym," Quin said. "Do you have any rope?"

"Of course!" During the conversation, Meriym had sat looking interested, but seemed slightly unsure of where it all was going. "I'll get it."

"Oliphant," John continued. "I think you should have a serious conversation with yourself about where your loyalties lie. I have known this man for a very long time, and if I have judged him correctly – which I have – he will not hesitate to leave you out to dry should something go wrong. And something will go wrong. Very, very wrong. And that something will be me."

Meriym returned with the rope and handed it to Quin. He noticed, oddly, that though she did a lot of work around the house, her hands seemed very soft.