Despite his illness, Alina envied him; immortal life was starting to drag. She missed sleeping. The night hours made her lonely and anxious, with nothing to do but worry. Though her body never tired, her mind needed a respite.
One morning after a particularly hard night, she put off her chores and asked Eleanor where she could get something to read. She didn’t expect there to be discs for her panel, since she’d seen nothing similar in Carthem. But she needed something to occupy her mind while everyone slept.
“Yes, dear,” Eleanor answered her. “You can walk to the library from here. Go out this front door, take a right, and it’s two blocks down on your left. You’ll see a sign in front, ‘Stormport Library.’”
Alina thanked her and stepped outside into the fresh morning air, grateful to escape the hospital wing and smelly bathrooms.
Children played across the street in the park, with dogs barking and running at their heels. The small restaurants and clothing shops along the street fascinated her. After she and Rex wore the same dirty uniform for two days, Eleanor bought them clothes from the best store in town. Alina liked the fashions of Carthem; the moderate colors and styles differed from the flashy trends of Pria. She hoped her simple clothes would help her blend in, but every head turned and stared at her as she walked down the street.
The library had faded brick walls and cracked, white columns. She skipped up the crumbled steps to the front door, and, ignoring the lingering eyes around her, walked to the front desk.
“May I help you?” a bespectacled woman asked.
“Yes, I’m interested in reading about Carthem’s history. Can you direct me?”
“Certainly.”
The woman led her to an aisle near the corner of the library, where a cozy set of armchairs faced a charred fireplace. She pointed to three shelves. “This is all we have, but I think you’ll find a good selection.”
“Thank you,” Alina said, as she reached out and pulled one from the shelf. “What are they?”
“Why, they’re books!”
She opened it up, and a sweet musty smell reached her nose. The paper was yellowed, and the outside leather scratched and worn. The book seemed a perfect emblem of Carthem: rough, defaced, and comforting.
“Can I take any of them with me? Just to borrow?”
“Of course. Choose the ones you’d like to read and bring them to my desk.”
“Thank you. And—one more question, please.”
“Yes?”
“Can people write freely here?”
The librarian looked puzzled. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Can someone write what they think, and people can read it? Or are there restrictions?”
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Yes, anyone can write and publish a book. But when it comes to Carthem’s history, we take the truth very seriously. Nothing is published without verification.”
“Good. Thank you,” Alina said. The woman nodded and left.
Alina was glad to hear this. In Pria all reading material, stored on info-discs, was strictly regulated, supposedly for the author’s protection. After all, he or she might say something offensive, and this could land the author—and others, if a feud erupted—into Carthem. ‘Unchecked words lead to unchecked wars’ was one of Sampson’s popular slogans.
Alina tilted her head and scanned the titles. People, Policies, and Politics of Carthem; Life after Pria; Life as an Immortal: From the Mouth of an ex-Prian; The Man with the Iron Hand: Sampson and his Lies; and The Connection between Carthem and Pria.
She took the two about Carthem, then plopped into a chair by the fireplace and picked up The Connection between Carthem and Pria.
She flipped to the back cover and read about the author, Miles Cedarwood, who was one of the founders who helped Sampson establish Pria, and one of the first exiled. Three hundred years stretched between the first edition’s publication and the latest one. Camden’s endorsement on the back confirmed it as the most recent edition. She opened the book, crossed her legs and started to read.
The first chapter introduced the discovery of a new substance before the Last Great War. Ageless serum, as the substance was later called, brought rapid advancements in technology, science, engineering, and medicine. One person was prominent in every area of this innovation: a young, brilliant, and charismatic scientist named Victor Sampson.
Sampson’s innovations and inventions made him popular at a time when cultural, political, and economic divisions sparked discord across the territories of Carthem. Yet access to these advancements became limited through government interference and escalating costs. Sampson seemed apart from the conflict. His popularity established him as a spokesman, yet his neutrality as a scientist and innovator spared him any direct blame.
The historians couldn’t say who initiated the first attack. The outlying territories appeared to target the central government. Retaliation was swift, and soon all of Carthem was embroiled in a major civil war, the Last Great War—the war Sampson referred to at every Day of Genesis. Key infrastructures were devastated, leaving the outer territories without critical necessities, and cutting off lines of communication and transportation. Ironically, all of Sampson’s hard-earned innovations—the things that initiated the unrest—were destroyed, along with the government.
From the ashes, Sampson arose as a natural leader. The people were so broken, they embraced his leadership without question.
Alina glanced at the clock, then hastily gathered the books and took them to the front desk. Jade’s visiting hours had begun, and as of yesterday, her condition was still uncertain.
She hurried back to the hospital lobby and found Rex waiting in a robe and slippers, his hair
