Retrieval

"Why did you become a retriever?" Lahn’s voice crackled through my headset. "Your records don't indicate any interest towards historical preservation."

First day working together and he was already trying to get personal with me. I continued thumbing through the wall of books in the Criminal Investigation section as I replied back. "Records? From where?”

“Why, from the ever thorough federal database of course.”

My fingers stopped at a book about paranoia. “How do you have access to that?”

“It’s a bit of a perk seasoned retrievers are given.”

  “Oh,” I replied. Leave it to the government to find ways for us to police ourselves. “What did they have on my records?”

“Just standard stuff. Parents, deceased. Living with your younger sister. Average grades in school.”

“I see.”

“So about my question…”

“Well, just your standard reasons; steady pay, get to revisit Earth, and great benefits." I muted the headset to try to clear the lump forming in my throat. "How many books do you have left?"

"One on this floor and one on yours. You?"

I took a deep breath while placing another book into my pack. "Two more for me." I muted my headset again and hurried over to the last section.

The sunlight beaming through the sturdy mesh-like wall of metal and glass made the interior feel like a sanctuary that protected everyone from the clamor of a once bustling world. However it wasn’t the bustling world I was worried about. My teeth clenched at the sound of my footsteps echoing throughout the atrium. A habit my mother used to tell me would make me end up with no teeth. Dust from chairs and benches whipped into the air and danced about in the sunlight as I picked up my pace. I passed by countless aisles, each shelving hundreds maybe thousands of books that haven’t been touched for over a decade. 

Once we were all settled in on our new home world, a lot of people were worried the knowledge we accumulated on Earth was eventually going to be forgotten. In response, our government started a project in recovering vital books from Earth. “Vital books” like science, mathematics, and history. Everything else was doomed to collecting dust. 

Specially certified individuals, retrievers, were sent to libraries to excavate. Once a month we went with an empty ship and were expected to come back with the hull practically bursting with books. I finally found the last book on my list and put it in my pack. This was our last haul before going back home.

I saved this particular book for last since its location was closest to the section marked "Fiction". My head darted around for any signs of Lahn before I rushed over there. Fiction, along with other subjects like comic books and music, was deemed as useless. A line or even a fingerprint imprinted onto the dust of a book would have given away where I’ve been to my record snooping partner. 

Due to the government’s natural habit of being in control, just touching one of these books could result in an immediate discharge. No surprise there. No one ever described any form of government as “creative” or “fun”. “Harshly efficient” is one I heard on a regular basis since becoming a retriever. The government officials probably took that as a compliment. But I wasn’t there to get an adrenaline rush of touching forbidden books. 

The word “Princess” on the spine of one of the books caught my eye and I carefully pulled it out. The cover had an armored woman brandishing a sword at a menacing fire-breathing dragon. I hesitated for a moment but the thought of her face lighting up at the sight of this book gave me the courage to tuck it under my shirt. "Utilizing part of your benefits, I see.”

I swung around to find Lahn standing at the end of the aisle. A cold tingling sensation engulfed my body as the blood drained from my face.

"Lahn, I-"

"Fiction, huh?" He gestured to the book in my clenched hand. "You don't strike me as an avid reader type. You looking to sell that?"

It took me a moment to realize what he meant. The right book could land you a fortune in the black market. Being caught in the act, I figured honesty would sway Lahn to just tell me to put the book back. "No no. It's for my little sister. She..." I recollected myself, "...she really likes stories of strong female characters. They usually help her sleep."

"So you're risking incarceration for a bedtime story?"

"Yes," I admitted. "A science book isn’t going to comfort my sister. Our mother,” I let out a sigh as my mother’s warm smile appeared in my head, “was amazing at telling stories. My sister's day wasn't really complete without one. After our mom died, my sister...well...it’s been really hard on her." I looked down at the book in my hand. "I'm terrible at telling stories but I knew where I could get plenty of good ones."

"I guess there's only one thing to do." He said. My eyes widened as he reached into his pack. What was he going to pull out? Restraints? A gun? His hand emerged from his pack to reveal a book with musical notes on its cover. Sheet music. I looked back at Lahn's face to find a smirk across it. 

“My father is a violinist,” he said.

First day working together and he was already trying to get personal with me.