Paraworld Zero (29 page)

    “Wow,” Gwin marveled. “How do you know that?”

    “I read it on the statue.”

    “If that’s true,” Thorn said, “then this could be pretty serious. We have
been having a lot of draguno attacks lately.”

    “It’s more serious than you realize,” Simon said in haste. “I also read that
the dragunos are coming back soon. Thorn, we have to get into the sealed portion of the
library.”

    “This is awesome,” Gwin exclaimed. “Let’s go.”

    “Hold on, Gwin,” Simon said; her supportive attitude shocked him. “You’re not
coming with us. We’re going to have a hard enough time as it is sneaking into the vault. There’s
no reason for you to get involved.”

    She shook her head. “If the Lisardians—I mean dragunos—are coming back to
destroy the planet, then that’s a pretty good reason to get involved, don’t you think?”

    “I don’t know, Gwin,” Thorn said, siding with Simon. “We’re not exactly
leaving on a mission to save the world. We’re just going to look at some old books.”

    “Okay,” she conceded, “but let me know what you find.”

    “All right,” Thorn said. “We’ll see you later.” They started to walk away,
but then Thorn whirled around and added, “Most likely we’ll be right back. Save me a dance, will
you?”

    “I’ll be waiting for you,” she said, winking. Thorn debated whether she had
directed the wink towards him or not, but he blushed nonetheless. Simon’s cheeks reddened as
well.

Chapter 18
    

    

    Except for the old librarian sleeping at the front desk, the library appeared
empty. Most of the lights had been turned off to conserve energy. An eerie sensation filled the
pit of Simon’s stomach as he crept past the tall desk and headed for the vault.

    “How are we going to get in?” Thorn asked in a half-whisper.

    The librarian stirred in his seat.

    “
Shhh!
” Simon scolded. “I’m going to use magic.” He put his hand on the digital
keypad.

    Thorn raised an eyebrow. “You’ll probably set the whole place on fire or
something.”

    “
Shhh!
Let me concentrate. I got my video games working, didn’t I?”

    “Something tells me this security system is a bit more complex than your
video game machine.”

    The old man at the desk snorted loudly, and both boys froze. A few moments
later, the librarian readjusted himself in his chair and fell back asleep. His deep breathing
echoed across the marble floors and pierced the silence of the library like a dragon struggling
to sleep.

    “Keep your voice down,” Simon said. Overwhelmed, the inexperienced magician
glided his hand along the seam of the metallic door. The hinges that held the massive door in
place were wider than his fist.

    Simon put his hand on the digital keypad again and closed his eyes. In his
mind, he visualized the circuits and conduits of the security system. He traveled along a blue
wire and then a red one. A series of white beams of light reflected off a diamond prism and ran
down various tunnels. Feeling euphoric, Simon chased after one beam and soon found himself deep
into the circuitry of the electronic system.

    Tiny nanoprobes zoomed around in the air to defend the microchips from
foreign objects. Simon visualized a speck of dust shooting out of an opening in the floor. Like
mosquitoes attacking a helpless child, the nanoprobes pounced on the dust particle and broke it
up into tinier fragments with their minute lasers.

    Simon’s consciousness moved down another tunnel and into a huge opening. He
saw a gigantic globe with blue electricity surging up the sides to reach the top. It was the kind
of glass ball that made your hair stand up when you touched it. He had seen one at a school field
trip to the planetarium last year. The only difference was that, somehow or another, he was
inside of it.

    A colorful arrangement of diodes and capacitors lined the floor, and a huge
tower of microchips sprang upwards in the center of the room—attracting the energy like a
lightning rod. Simon became discouraged at seeing the millions of electronic components.

    
Which one is it?
he thought.

    Then, out of obscurity, he saw something almost hidden within a bed of
strange-looking electrodes. It was a tiny, insignificant thing—too small for anyone to notice—but
it seemed important for some reason. As Simon’s consciousness drew closer, he realized it was
just an ordinary fuse—the type one might find in a strand of Christmas lights.

    
No
, he argued.
This little thing?
How could this tiny fuse bring down the entire security system? How could something so small
make a difference?

    He wanted to give up and go back into reality, but his inner self forced him
to stay. The little glass cylinder came more and more closely into view. Soon, his vantage point
was such that the fuse was all he could see. He concentrated all his energy on the tiny thread
contained within the glass tube.

    Outside this strange mechanical world, Thornapple watched patiently as Simon
manipulated the security system. From the little Pud’s viewpoint, it looked like Simon was merely
stalling. He was about to comment on this but stopped himself when he saw a bead of sweat run
down his friend’s face.

    Simon’s jaw muscles tightened. His cheeks turned red, and he began to tremble
from the terrible strain he was under.

    “Are you okay?” Thorn grabbed his arm, but Simon wouldn’t let go of the
digital keypad. “Simon!”

    Inside the security system, Simon watched as the tiny thread in the fuse
snapped in two. Instantly, the entire system turned off, and everything went black.

    “Simon, are you okay?”

    Disorientated, Simon realized he was back in the library. “
Shhh!
You’ll wake up the librarian,” he warned.

    “It looks like it didn’t work,” Thorn said.

    “Well, you interrupted me! I think I almost had it—”

    A loud
pop
sounded, and the thick door creaked open a quarter of an inch. The librarian jumped in
his seat.

    “Is someone there?” the old man asked while fumbling for his cone-shaped
cap.

    Simon and Thorn held their breath. They watched the librarian stand up and
rotate towards them. Just then, a clap of noise echoed throughout the library.

    “Sorry about that,” someone said.

    A feeling of relief swept over the two boys as the old librarian sat back
down.

    “May I help you?” he asked in his deep-drawled voice. The man peered over his
desk to see Gwin picking up a holographic pad from off the floor.

    “Yes, you can.” She winked at the two boys behind the desk. Simon could have
sworn her wink was directed towards him, but Thorn would beg to differ. “I hear you have the
newest edition of the Scientific Lecture Series,” she said with a perky grin.

    “Why, yes, we do,” the man squealed. “Let m’see, here.” He looked down at the
monitor on his desk and tapped some keys. “Lecture Series… Lecture Series…” he mumbled to
himself.

    Gwin signaled for the boys to go into the vault.

    As they left, Simon mouthed the words, “
Thank you
.”

    Gwin smiled and winked again. This time Simon felt positive she was winking
at him.

    Not waiting another second, the two boys slid into the vault and shut the
door behind them. They began to choke on the noxious fumes that billowed from the vents. Simon
dropped to his knees and tried to feel his way through the dense clouds of neon-blue smoke, but
he kept bumping into things.

    “Take this,” came a strange, mechanical-sounding voice.

    Simon turned around and saw the silhouette of a small Pud behind the veil of
thick smoke. The strange figure stepped forward, breaking through the blue fog like a knife
cutting through butter. Unprepared at seeing the futuristic-looking mask the person was wearing,
Simon took a gasp of the vile air and started to cough.

    “It’s me—Thorn!” the little Pud said from behind the frightening disguise. He
handed Simon a gas mask.

    Feeling slightly foolish, Simon took the mask and put it over his head. The
black rubber suctioned itself to his chest and drowned out the external noise completely. His
glasses pressed into his face, but he ignored the discomfort.

    Simon looked through the telescopic eyepieces of the mask and realized he
could now see through the blue fumes. In fact, he soon discovered he could manipulate his
perception at will. When he looked at Thorn, he noticed that descriptive readings such as body
temperature and weight appeared at the borders of his peripheral vision.

    He concentrated on the label engraved on Thorn’s mask, and his vision
magnified so that the label came right up to his face. He stared at the words, and they too
became magnified. The label read: Preservation Gas Mask.

    Like a two-way radio, Thorn’s mechanical voice broke the silence. “The mist
preserves the books. That’s how they’ve lasted all these years.”

    “That’s cool,” Simon responded, shocked to hear that his own voice sounded a
bit synthesized as well. He looked around and saw rows and rows of bookcases spanning the length
of the vault. In the middle of the room sat a very large book upon a white pedestal.

    “Let’s start with that one.” Simon motioned towards the pedestal.

    “Wow, that’s huge,” cried Thorn. “What does the title say?”

    Simon walked over to the oversized book and inspected the cover. The strange
characters danced around and then turned into English.

    “
The History of Pudo
,” Simon read. “
By John Willmaker
.”

    Thorn jumped with glee. “What luck. Open it up.”

    Simon turned over the heavy cover and read the first page. “
Volume 13. Dedicated to my lovely wife
…
My strength… My beacon… My everlasting joy… My—
”

    “My goodness! At this rate, we’ll be here forever. Let’s just skip to the
end.”

    Simon could tell that Thorn obviously wanted to get back to the dance. He, on
the other hand, was happy to be away from the noisy crowd. However, Thorn did have a point: The
book was enormous, and the time they had was limited.

    Simon moved to turn the page when something odd caught his eye. “Wait a
second, Thorn. Take a look at this.” He pointed to the bottom of the page where a picture of a
large woman was printed.

    “
Ewww
—I can’t believe that!” Thorn crinkled his nose. The gas mask filtered his voice,
making it sound two octaves lower. “This guy was married to a
big
Pud?”

    “I think he
was
a big Pud,” Simon noted.

    “Oh, come on! They can’t even read, let alone write.”

    “Why do you think this book is so big then? I don’t think even Alvin
Bottlebrush could bench-press this thing.”

    “History books are always big. Anyway, we’re never going to get back to the
dance if we keep looking at ugly women.”

    “All right.” Simon flipped to the last page of the book. “
The year is now 1999 AD.
” He stopped reading and mumbled, “Huh? That’s weird. My language
spell must be messing up. This couldn’t have been written in 1999—that wasn’t too long
ago.”

    “Maybe they had a different reckoning of time.”

    “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Simon read again,
“The year is now 1999 AD, almost two thousand years since the first draguno attack.”

    “There you go,” Thorn interrupted. “AD most likely stands for
After Dragunos
. So that means the draguno attacks have been going on for three thousand
years. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

    Simon read the last paragraph of the book.
“Although our ancestors were unsuccessful at defeating the lizards the last time they emerged,
we are confident we will be victorious. We will not allow these demons to destroy our world for a
third time. With the help of the High King and with the blessings of God above, we will
prevail!”

    Simon closed the book.

    Thorn wrung his hands. “So we really are in trouble, aren’t we?” The
impending doom was finally starting to sink in.

    “Yes, and the worst thing of all is that no one is going to believe
us.”

    “Maybe they will,” Thorn cried, his voice sounding a little muffled from his
gas mask. “We just need to find some evidence that the ancient Puds were fighting lizards and not
aliens. Let’s keep looking.”

    “What about the dance?”