The Days of the Dying Sun

03 - Library

His back sore, Merlin placed his hand on the warm stone of the circular building. The sensation caused him to smile, and he walked in a slow ring, allowing his fingers to trace an invisible line on the wall. Less than a minute later he was back to the front, close to his starting position.

"Shall we open the doors?" he asked.

Dandara put her hand on his arm. "Let me."

Merlin stood aside as the woman pushed on the smooth wood. A perfect fit, the double doors swung inward without a sound, coming to rest in prescribed positions without so much as a jolt. Dandara leading them, the three walked forward.

"Magnificent." Merlin's voice was soft, but it carried in the impressive acoustic space. He looked up at the ceiling, a delicate roof of coloured glass and intricate patternwork. There, he could see his own face, and that of both Lucifer and Dandara, the three of them looking down beatifically on whomever stood below. Twice, Dandara had argued against such an ostentatious display, but both Merlin and Lucifer had insisted on it.

"It is our first construction for them," Lucifer had said. "And should be seen as a gift, and a temple alike. It is right that we are remembered and honoured."

"Temple?" Merlin had queried. "We are not gods, to be worshipped. No, it is a library, for knowledge to be shared."

And then they had filled it. The curved walls were home to thousands of tiny niches, each one the size of a human hand. Over days, each of the three had created shining crystals, and filled the geometric structures with their thoughts and experience. A full civilisation's wisdom held in the myriad stones, placed in ordered lines in the great room.

For his part, Merlin had concentrated on mathematics and science, ensuring that those who needed the information would be able to jump in great strides through the understanding of the universe. Dandara had focussed on history, providing lessons and observations of people who had been, both on Earth and beyond. Lucifer was moved to provide fiction, stories of possibilities and escape, born from his fascination with dreams. Each though, strayed into the domains of the others without conflict, and many perspectives were provided.

"It seems almost worthless without people to come and enjoy it," moaned Lucifer. "Surely, it is time now, and you will relent, Merlin."

Merlin laughed. "My friend, you are screaming with impatience. It has still only been days since we arrived."

"Not so! In the ways of the golden age, the time we have wasted would be measured in weeks. Months, even, I believe. The constellations move in the sky, Merlin, and we lie below, or sit in your great Seat, and do little more than contemplate. How is this new life different from the old one we lived? Are you so unwilling to truly begin the work you advocated?"

"Not at all. Just, well, it is not yet time. There is more we should construct."

"And leave what to them? Surely they will want to build their own houses? Design their own facilities? Would you play architect forever, never ready to release your models to the very people for whom they were planned?"

"Boys!" Dandara laughed, her hands high in exasperation. "Must we do this daily?"

"Yes! Until he admits it is time to get on with it."

"Not yet," said Merlin. "There is so much we don't understand."

"And we could spend the rest of the planet's life exploring those questions, my friend." Lucifer put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You can still ask questions with people running around. I believe all the great thinkers of the past had to contend with that."

Merlin laughed. "Perhaps."

"But I take it we have your permission to create more of this city, now that the centrepiece is here."

"I would never stop you, either of you."

"Then I will start now. Dandara?"

Drifting past Merlin with grace, the woman joined Lucifer and the two of them left the library, closing the door behind them.

Softly, Merlin walked forward, reaching into an alcove and wrapping his hand around a tall blue gem, seemingly at random. Calm, he sat on one of the gleaming wooden benches that formed a broken ring around the room, and triggered the crystal's activation.

Immediately, he could feel Dandara with him, her essence poured into the smooth structure of the jewel. Her knowledge of the first colony filled his mind, mingling with his own research and understanding of the time, filling in gaps and, in places, providing a disparate viewpoint to allow him to reconsider his already assumed ideas. At some point, she had seen a recording of a conversation between the famed ship captain and his wife, left behind on Earth. The story had passed into folklore, a tale of lifelong lovers who sacrificed their companionship and personal future for the good of the planet. It was on two counts, as Celia Huun, left behind, was working on some of the worldwide recycling principles that ultimately added centuries to the planet's health. Marcel Huun, however, was the more famous of the two, setting up the first artificial environment on the moon. He never returned home.

Dandara's additional material provided a true glimpse into the fear with which both pioneers struggled. Forced apart, they second guessed their decision, questioning its validity, their motives, their love for each other and, ultimately, their sanity.

Merlin placed the record back in its alcove. He would never return home, either. The three of them had determined that this mission was more important than anything else, but what had they sacrificed? Was he, too, a madman consumed with hubris?

And was their mission doomed before it began? The first moon colony was deemed a success, but where is it now? Nothing more than dust. Would this civilisation that they dreamed of, ultimately end up nothing more than a forgotten attempt to fight universe-wide entropy? Would life become nothing but a memory?

No, not a memory—for who would be around to remember? Less than that, then; simply nothing. Without life, what was the purpose of any of it? Irrelevant, just the slow movement of rocks and gas in space. True pointlessness.

But there were the fish. Two nights previously, the three of them had dined on tuna. They had identified it, and though it was small for its species, it was definitely tuna, caught by Lucifer on another of his long water excursions. What had brought the fish back to Earth?

Merlin's mind skittered through his thoughts, too varied and intangible to grasp and hold still. From doom, to fish, to patience, to roads, to the warmth of his cloak, to the faces of his companions magnified above him, to civilisation, to companionship, to Cecia Huun.

"It is time," Merlin whispered, sitting up. "It is time."

"Lucifer, Dandara," he called as he stepped out into the red hue of the dying sun. "You are right; I have been procrastinating. It is time."