In article <55d67c65$0$1709$
742e...@news.sonic.net>,
Come to think of it, I put a few slushpile licks into _Hell On High_:
The demon smirked knowingly. "Welcome," he said, "to
the Library of Lost Books. I am Lucien, your guide to
the stacks. How may I assist you?"
Rhea looked at Jack and shrugged. It was up to him
then: There was very little that didn't interest him
at least somewhat, but they were on a day trip not a
camping expedition. First things first. "Science fic-
tion," he said, "from the last two hundred years."
"Very good," Lucien said and steepled his fingers in
thought for a moment. "This way please."
They had entered through the doors in what Jack still
thought of as first gear. The demon lead them south to
the central corridor, then east towards the last wing.
He didn't offer any running commentary, in fact didn't
look back at them at all. Jack and Rhea were left to
make what guesses they could about all the statuary and
exhibits they passed in the spacious hallway. "Fertil-
ity goddess?" Jack speculated about a blatantly immod-
est little statue perched lustily on an otherwise
somber table.
"Or a prehistoric business card," Rhea responded.
"Maybe the glyphs on the tummy say For a good time,
call Basheeba, third cave on the left past the mastodon
skeleton. 'I'll make you Homo Errectus'.
As they left the sections of rock carvings and clay
tablets, the smell of musty paper and parchment gradu-
ally became overpowering. It seemed to Jack that they
had been walking much further than was possible given
what he had seen of the building from the outside.
"TARDIS," he murmured to Rhea.
"What?"
"Time And Relative Dimension in Space. It's bigger on
the inside." He considered. "Like my mother's pocket-
book."
Finally Lucien brought them to the end of the hall, and
ushered them north into the fifth gear area. They
passed countless rows of shelves arrayed with every
type of book, from leather-bound Victorian volumes to
CD-ROMS and chips. Their guide opened the door to a
side room and waved them ahead. "We have arrived," he
said.
Jack looked around. The room was divided into two
parts by a center aisle. Across the aisle to the left,
poorly lighted shelves stretched on almost as far as he
could see, while to the right a compact group of well
lighted, dust free shelves beckoned invitingly.
"What's the difference," Rhea asked pointing to the
left.
Lucien took off his glasses and wiped them medita-
tively. "Those books are lost because they were unpub-
lishable, unsubmitted or didn't find the right editor."
"My God," Jack said, "It's the grand, cumulative slush-
pile of SF!"
Rhea grabbed his arm. "Be afraid," she said, "be very
afraid."
"Indeed," Lucien agreed, "It's the largest such for any
of our genres. Seemingly of every two people who read
science fiction, one of them has a bad book to contri-
bute to it."
Fascinated, Jack walked to the first shelf and picked
up a dusty folder. Inside, the cover page was dated
May 7 1843 in precise early Victorian handwriting. He
turned to the last page and read: Whereat the man said,
'Good lady, I call myself Adam. And how might I pol-
itely address myself to you? Upon which words the
woman responded, 'Good sir, I have no other name than
Eve.
Jack shuddered and put the manuscript down. "Not a
book that should be put aside lightly," he quoted, "but
rather one which should be hurled with great force."
"And on the other side?" Rhea asked.
"Books by known authors," Lucien said, "or good ones.
Lost due to fire, war, the post or what have you. Not
nearly as big a set." He put his glasses back on and
settled them firmly on his nose. The lenses magnified
his distinctly demonic square pupils. "Now then," he
said, "there is a bell pull in the wall by the door.
Do pull it when you are done here, and I shall escort
you out, but for now I must attend to other business."
"Thank you," Jack said automatically.
"No thanks are necessary," the demon said primly, and
disappeared with a puff of imploding air.
"Well," Rhea said, looking around, "I guess we're on
our own."
Jack was already rifling through the good stacks.
"Yep," he agreed happily. "Hey!" he pulled a book and
leafed through it rapidly, then turned back to the
first page and started reading. Before long, he was
chuckling, then laughing out loud.
Rhea moved to look over his shoulder. "What is it?"
she asked.
"It's the sequel to The Witches of Karres," Jack said.
The one Schmitz lost when he moved. See what the
Leewit does here?" He pointed, and soon Rhea was
laughing too. He put the book aside with regret: So
little time. One day he, or someone, would have to
come in with a scanner.