A cloaked figure slips silently among the busy clerks and officials in the official house of Government. At the other wing of the building is the private residences of the elected leaders. In this wing are the office areas. He entered using access panels known only to himself and some few previous occupants. Yet these areas were unfamiliar to him. Before, people had come to him, now he cautiously entered rooms used by those people, for the first time. The fascination was in moving about unnoticed, something impossible previously. He smiled, and entered a small room off the main Library. Glancing about quickly, he could see it was empty, and that it had been so for some time.
Books and documents littered the desk and all the surfaces that could hold them. Picking one up at random, he read "The Attack on Elephantine: Economic and Military Considerations". Another read: "The Establishment of Citadel: Measurable Factors of Aggression Vs Homeland Development". Stunned, he realized he was in the abandoned office of the Venerable -Jrabbit, Historian of older times, and last of the line. Carefully sorting through the piles of dust-covered published reports (the far smaller body of information laying around him), he considered what to do with this trove of information and documentation. He glanced at the door; there were so many other rooms to be examined out of curiosity. But there was something compelling about this one.
"Ah well, one must make choices after all", he muttered to himself, "and this ancient project, maintained through all the years, deserves a completion". Outside, in the hallways, he heard great cries of joy. The Carthaginians had fallen, the last enemy was defeated. He stared at the door betwixt they and he; the boundary of the future and the past. He contemplated that. On a table was a hat with "Official Historian" inked onto it. He placed it on his head. "Doesn't fit well", he murmured, "but well enough". With a sardonic smile, he sat at the desk, arranged a piece of parchment before him, and began to write:
"In the year 1826, I, Cavebear, inscribe these words. Here is the history of our world from 200 AD and beyond, as well as I can determine the events"…
(More to come as quickly as I can cut, paste, type, and embellish. And I mean to complete this today or tomorrow.)
Books and documents littered the desk and all the surfaces that could hold them. Picking one up at random, he read "The Attack on Elephantine: Economic and Military Considerations". Another read: "The Establishment of Citadel: Measurable Factors of Aggression Vs Homeland Development". Stunned, he realized he was in the abandoned office of the Venerable -Jrabbit, Historian of older times, and last of the line. Carefully sorting through the piles of dust-covered published reports (the far smaller body of information laying around him), he considered what to do with this trove of information and documentation. He glanced at the door; there were so many other rooms to be examined out of curiosity. But there was something compelling about this one.
"Ah well, one must make choices after all", he muttered to himself, "and this ancient project, maintained through all the years, deserves a completion". Outside, in the hallways, he heard great cries of joy. The Carthaginians had fallen, the last enemy was defeated. He stared at the door betwixt they and he; the boundary of the future and the past. He contemplated that. On a table was a hat with "Official Historian" inked onto it. He placed it on his head. "Doesn't fit well", he murmured, "but well enough". With a sardonic smile, he sat at the desk, arranged a piece of parchment before him, and began to write:
"In the year 1826, I, Cavebear, inscribe these words. Here is the history of our world from 200 AD and beyond, as well as I can determine the events"…
(More to come as quickly as I can cut, paste, type, and embellish. And I mean to complete this today or tomorrow.)
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