[Preshow] The Library

[Karl Jak]

A massive, multi-floor room containing books, newspapers, and audio recorders from various points in history across various realities. The people at Syntech have collected a surprisingly enormous library that seems to span time and space.

 

[Kopaka]

Hillary Gendwyn walked back to her attendant desk with a fresh double-foamed mocchacino from Synbucks across the Lobby in the Recreation Dome. Based on the shouting, screaming, and glut of observation drones that had gone that way, she had to assume that some of this season's competitors were already causing a ruckus. She had waved at Kevin, who had finally been able to go on break, but he seemed too shellshocked to return the favor. Well...maybe next time.

Or, perhaps, her stature had caused him to miss her. Halflings were easy to miss among the thronging foot-traffic in the Syntech lobby. The mousy young lady squirmed up onto her stool and began idly flicking through her Crossbook feed. Ideally, she should have been watching the arched Library entrance for challengers wandering through the door. In the past several seasons of the Abyss, however, not one contestant had bothered to spend time in the silent wing. Even the spectators rarely used the facility.

A few minutes passed, and a shiver ran up her back. She realized that it was rather chilly in the Library.

"Karlexa, set thermostat to seventy-one." she called.

"Anything for you, toots." The automated environmental controls replied, and she settled back into her browsing.

A few more minutes passed, and she still felt chilly. Even colder than before, if she was being honest. She blew out an exasperated sigh, and wheeled around, looking at the temperature readout on the wall console. It was indeed set to seventy-one degrees. It was at that moment that she heard a chair scrape in the adjoining section, and the sound of heavy, clomping footsteps. Hillary furrowed her bushy brows and slid off the stool, tentatively sipping on her carried beverage.

"Hello?" she called.

Hillary stepped through the smaller archway into the reference section, and was immediately hit by a sharp chill. A gentle coating of frost covered most of the brown, mahogany tables, and the air faintly glittered with tiny ice particles. A sprawl of books had been laid out across several tables, and dozens more were stacked neatly on the return cart, already sorted into Dewey decimal order. The halfling stepped quietly around an icy philodendron, looking down the aisles for her mysterious visitor. They must have slipped in while she was out getting her coffee.

"Hello...?" Hillary called again.

"Greetings. I am Kopaka, Toa of Ice. Are you the librarian?" thrummed a voice from behind her. Hillary fairly screeched, and wheeled around. Her wavy brown hair spilled across her face and she teetered into a book shelf with a bang. The modular shelving creaked and tipped, but a metallic hand caught it with a reverberating clang. After the initial shock, she cleared her bangs out of her freckled face and blinked up at the monolithic face of her visitor.

Kopaka loomed over her, blue eyes blazing, with one hand holding the heavy rack of books. His bionic muscles whined mechanically as he righted the tipped shelf, and waited for the diminutive organism to collect herself.

"How did you...where did you...?" the hobbit breathed, trying to control her shaking.

"Apologies for startling you. Are you the librarian?" Kopaka asked again. His tone was steady and soft. Hillary nodded meekly.

"Good. I ask for your aid." the Toa murmured. He turned on his foot and trudged towards the largest study table. The halfling glanced mournfully down at her spilled coffee treat, but followed the android. The table was covered in books regarding numerology, mathematics, geometry, symbols, hieroglyphs, and translations. Kopaka did not wait for her to ask before he spoke.

"I am unlearned in the common script of the Crossroads. I have come here to educate myself." Kopaka said softly. He picked up gestured over at a whiteboard on the far wall, which was covered in an alphabet of strange, circular runes, roman numerals, and common numbers.

"Interpreting your numbering systems against my own writing was simple, and the full alphabet has been committed to memory. Curiously enough, it seems that my written language is a direct cypher to your common lettering." Kopaka went on. Hillary stared in a mixture of silent panic and confused interest. How long had he been here?

"Still, the words as I spell them do not match any language reference that I have been able to find. So I ask you, librarian: do you or your archives recognize this script?" the Toa of Ice asked. His tone carried all the gravity of a life debt, and his electronic gaze burned into her wide eyes. Hillary shook her head in a small spasm.

"I...I just check books out of our inventory, dude. I dunno...how to translate runes?" Hillary gaped. A small hiss of pneumatic defeat emanated from Kopaka's olfactory detector.

"I see." he said. His tone was grim, but not hostile. He leaned forward and placed two hands on the table, which creaked in protest. His eyes were narrowed, and his normally glowering face seemed to adopt an even more grievous affect. The halfling shuffled her bare feet around on the freezing carpet (granted her hobbit fuzz kept them warmer than not). This robot thing was her first patron contestant in years; surely she could do better than that.

"Well...I may not be an expert. But at least I can read everything in this Library! It may take a little while, but there's gotta be something." she chirped, adjusting her glasses confidently. Kopaka nodded, and glanced over at her dropped mochaccino.

"Your drink is ruined at my fault. I shall acquire you another while you quest for this knowledge." the Toa said. He looked back at the hobbit, who was grinning widely for some reason. He chose to ignore it.

"Where shall I acquire it?" he buzzed. Hillary suppressed a small giggle.

"That's so...sweet! Uh. They make them in the Recreation Dome across the Lobby, at the Synbucks. It's called a double-whip mochacinno." Hillary said, beginning to clean up the android's spread of literature.

"I cannot read your words. Inscribe the characters on the slate." Kopaka commanded, handing the girl a dry-erase marker. Hillary did her best to spell out 'Synbucks' on the board...though it was a bit hard with a half-frozen marker. The bionicle gazed at the word, and his eyes blinked for a moment.

"I have memorized it. I will return shortly." he promised, and swiftly swept out of the room.

The hobbit watched the icy cyborg leave, and shook her wavy hair once more, with a grin.

"Well...if nothing else I have someone to root for this season!" she murmured.

"Don't hump the robot, babe." Karlexa responded.

 

[Kopaka]

Kopaka was unsure of what to think about the concept of standing in line. He was certain that he had no memory a social more like this. He appreciated the orderliness of the concept; it had a brutal simplicity to it. Those who arrived first were served before others. Yet, as he watched the baristas and cashiers bustle around behind the glassy countertop, he couldn't help but feel there was a certain underlying air of...inefficiency.

A rush of panicked voices and hurried voices drew his attention. There was an exodus of patrons from an eating room across from the line where he stood. There was a look of fear on their faces. It was an emotion he recognized from when he had startled Hillary in the Library. The Toa reflexively tried to call upon the Kanohi Akaku and pierce the stained, chestnut walls and gaze inside. He was abruptly reminded that his most prized possession was languishing in the darkness of some crass vault. He hissed a misty breath of discomfort, but watched as a tall human dressed in blue walked confidently into the source of the disturbance. Whatever the trouble was, he would have to let it go. Right now, his Duty was to the Librarian, to replace her lost sustenance.

The line lurched forwards, and Kopaka regarded the barista, with his rough-shaved face and dark skin. The Synbucks employee didn't seem particularly phazed by Kopaka, which was a welcome divergence from the usual shock and drudgery.

"Good morning! What can I get for you?" the barista asked, flashing a toothy grin. The Toa spoke with practiced, measured words.

"I need a double-whipped mochacinno for the Librarian, at my expense." Kopaka said solemnly. The Synbucks employee nudged his black visor upwards.

"No charge for contestants! But uh, you want that iced or hot?" the worker asked. Kopaka glared at him as he roiled with internal panic. The small humanoid had not specified this option. The android chose to make a tactical choice. If he opted for a hot beverage, it would likely be ice cold by the time he carried it back to the Library.

"Iced." he grumbled. The barista nodded.

"What size?" the human responded. Kopaka seized up.

"I..." he trailed off, trying to wrap his head around a sudden whirlwind of prerogatives.

"...please explain." Kopaka muttered. The human seemed undaunted, as if he had to suffer such woeful ignorance on a constant basis. The Toa envied the human-entity's emotional endurance.

"Sure! We have short, tall, grande, and trenta." the barista responded. He gestured to an array of paper drinking vessels, arranged from smallest to largest, which rested upon one of the beverage extruders. It was here that Kopaka fully broke. The Librarian was of small stature, and thus, logic indicated that she would be suited to the smallest size. Would that be insulting, however? Or apt? Should he opt for the largest possible size, to fully express his recompense towards the Hillary human? He would have, perhaps, opted for a size in between that of the largest and the smallest, but Synbucks was infuriatingly devoid of such an option.

The bionicle gripped the fake marble countertop with enough force to crack it slightly. His choice here potentially dictated his ability to survive the up-coming challenge. Failure to appease the librarian could perpetuate his illiteracy, which could then lead to lethal mistakes in the arena itself.

The barista, to his credit, was quite cocient of his customer's indecision. The worker took the initiative.

"You said it's for the Librarian? It think she usually goes for a grande." the human offered. Kopaka relaxed his robotic grip on the countertop, and nodded slowly.

"So be it. My gratitude for your insight." Kopaka growled, nodding his head in grim appreciation.

"Sure thing! It'll be just a minute, if you stand over there." the barista said, pointing at what Kopaka presumed to be a waiting area. The Toa did not speak to the human further, and awaited service in silence.

_

A few minutes later, Kopaka was leaving the Pleasure Dome with a fresh, grande frosted Synbuck double-whipped iced mochacinno. He carried it reverently, with one hand supporting the bottom of the cup, and his other holding it steady as he walked. As he passed back into the Lobby, Kopaka came face to face with the Mickey Mouse entity from the campfire earlier.

"Oh, just the fella I was looking for!" Mickey said, offering a wide smile and energetic wave. The six foot tall android glared down at the mouse with wide, electronic eyes for a mere moment before wordlessly resuming his march towards the Library. Now was not the time for distractions; not when he was so close to completing his Duty to the Hillary entity.

Kopaka swept back into the Library wing, and continued to the reference section. Hillary was busy at work on one of the computer terminals, and had a spread of what appeared to be translation manuals on the side table. She glanced up with a smile as Kopaka clomped towards her, with the mochacinno held out in front of him like the holy grail.

"Oh, iced huh? I usually get it hot, so this will be interesting!" the Hillary chirped. Kopaka set it down, and regarded her with a look that was somewhere between fury and panic. The barista had betrayed him! If he was so familiar with her preferences, why had he not been informed of the proper serving temperature?

"You are...displeased? My apologies. Allow me to acquire one to your-" the Toa started, but was cut off by a burst of bubbly laughter.

"Oh my god no! No it's fine, please. I really appreciate it." Hillary said, patting Kopaka on his metallic hand. The Toa maintained his heavy stare, but nodded silently in understanding. The halfling beckoned Kopaka around to look at her computer monitor, and pointed at the screen.

"I think I found something, but I need to keep digging in the archives. You found that your letters were a direct cypher, so I tried image matching your alphabet with a language database." the halfling said, tracing her finger along lines of text that Kopaka still couldn't read.

"And you found...?" he asked softly.

"Not...much. But then I tried reverse searching your name in translators, and did get a match. See if you can read this." Hillary said, opening a new screen. On it, in Kopaka's own alphabet, was an almost perfectly comprehensible passage of text.

But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing of a pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? [33] On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain.

Kopaka breathed sharply, and stifled his emotions before they got out of hand. He looked down at Hillary's beaming face, and met her eyes with a solemn
nod.

"Your language seems to be based on polynesian roots. Maybe Maori? Which is...weird, but Syntech has discovered a lot of intersections between different realities and-"

"Bring me all available books for these languages." Kopaka interrupted. His voice was firm, and calm, but even Hillary could detect a note of relief in her patron. She sipped smugly on the iced coffee and decided that cold things weren't always bad. She hopped off of her stool and rolled a squeaky shelving cart over to the linguistics section, while Kopaka stared at the words on the screen again. The implications, mysteries, and contradictions had multiplied, but this was to be expected when the vault of lore was opened.

The Toa of Ice simply he hoped he had enough time to translate, reference, and re-translate enough of the Crossroad's common language before the competition started to form a working foundation for literacy...