Roadside Garden First Part Second Draft

(font: "Courier New")[This scrap has an interview with James Lovelock. Skim it and you see that he was the guy behind the Gaia hypothesis. (click:"Gaia hypothesis")[It's the notion that the whole planet functions as a single superorganism.](click:"superorganism")[ Now - or whenever this interview was written - it seems he's thinking about artificial intelligence.](click:"artificial intelligence")[ "Before we’ve reached the end of this century, even – I think that what people call robots will have taken over.” Robots will rule the world? “Well, yes. They’ll be in charge.” In charge of us? “Yes, if we’re still here. Whether they’ll have taken over peacefully or otherwise, I have no idea.”](click:"idea")[ In the classic Frankenstein tradition, will humanity not understand what it has created until it’s too late? “Well, too late is the wrong word. Let’s say, until it has happened. Maybe we’ve got some special property that they will appreciate. But then, don’t forget, their timescale is a million times different from ours. They’d have a lot of trouble talking to us ... It’s really more like us talking to a giant redwood tree. And you never know, they may feel about us the same way as we feel about trees.”]]

(font: "Courier New")[Smoothed out, these sheets of copy paper reveal text printed from the Internet: Rebecca Solnit writing on libraries and forests.(click:"libraries and forests")[ "I was lucky that children were weeds, not hothouse flowers, in those days, left to our own devices, and my own devices led in two directions: north to the hills and the horses, south to the library."](click:"south to the library")[ "The same kind of shade and shelter can be found in an aisle of books and an avenue of trees, and in the longevity of both, and the mere fact that both, if not butchered or burned, may outlive us." "The object we call a book is not the real book, but its seed or potential, like a music score. It exists fully only in the act of being read; and its real home is inside the head of the reader, where the seed germinates, the symphony resounds."](click:"resounds")[ "I disappeared into books when I was very young, disappeared into them like someone running into the woods. What surprised and still surprises me is that there was another side to the forest of stories and the solitude, that I came out that other side and met people there."]]

(font: "Courier New")[The words on the scrap are scrawled in jagged letters, black ink on a faded sheet torn from another volume's endpapers. Writing must have been a struggle; the lines waver and in places the nib pressed down hard enough to tear the paper. Still, the writer was meticulous in attribution, even if their penmanship was desperate.(click:"meticulous")[ C.S LEWIS, THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW: "It was the quietest wood you could possibly imagine. There were no birds, no insects, no animals, and no wind. You could almost feel the trees growing. The pool he had just got out of was not the only pool. There were dozens of others—a pool every few yards as far as his eyes could reach. You could almost feel the trees drinking the water up with their roots. This wood was very much alive. When he tried to describe it afterwards Digory always said, "It was a rich place: as rich as plumcake."](click:"plumcake")[ "Why, if we can get back to our own world by jumping into this pool, mightn't we get somewhere else by jumping into one of the others? Supposing there was a world at the bottom of every pool." ]]

(font: "Courier New")[When the Library was open, the clerks (and, later, the automated self-checkout machines) would issue a chit or receipt as a record of your loan.(click:"record of your loan")[ Some bright spark had the idea of including an inspirational quote on each paper stub.](click:"each paper stub")[ The details of the loan aren't registered on this one but the inspirational line still appears:](click:"inspirational line")[ "The reader is the musician of the book: each reader may read the same text, just as each violinist plays the same piece, but each interpretation is different. -- Margaret Atwood"]]

(font: "Courier New")[These pages come from a mouldering paperback, ruckled from water damage, blotted with patches of mildew. Turning them delicately, you can see that they've fallen loose from a copy of Peter Wohlleben's The Hidden Life of Trees. (click:"The Hidden Life of Trees")[ Wohlleben, a German forester, advocates for a more respectful, less intrusive approach to caring for our forests. The book unpacks some of his observations from a decade managing woodland in his native Germany.](click:"managing woodland")[ "One reason that many of us fail to understand trees is that they live on a different timescale than us...Creatures with such a luxury of time on their hands can afford to take things at a leisurely pace. The electrical impulses that pass through the roots of trees, for example, move at the slow rate of one inch per second."](click:"one inch per second")[ "The reason trees share food and communicate is that they need each other. It takes a forest to create a microclimate suitable for tree growth and sustenance. So it's not surprising that isolated trees have far shorter lives than those living connected together in forests. Perhaps the saddest plants of all are those we have enslaved in our agricultural systems."](click:"enslaved")[ "The modern forestry industry produces lumber. That is to say, it fells trees and then plants new seedlings. If you read the professional literature, you quickly get the impression that the well-being of the forest is only of interest insofar as it is necessary for optimizing the lumber industry. That is enough for what foresters do day to day, and eventually it distorts the way they look at trees."](click:"distorts")[ "When the logs in the fireplace crackle merrily, the corpse of a beech or oak is going up in flames. The paper in the book you are holding in your hands...is made from the shavings of spruce, and birches that were expressly felled (that is to say, killed) for this purpose...Parallels can definitely be drawn to pigs and pork. Not to put too fine a point on it, we use living things killed for our purposes."](click:"purposes")[ "Does that make our behaviour reprehensible? Not necessarily. After all, we are all part of Nature, and we are made in such a way that we can survive only with the help of organic substances from other species. We share this necessity with all other animals."](click:"We share this necessity with all other animals")[ "The real question is whether we help ourselves only to what we need from the forest ecosystem, and -- analogous to our treatment of animals -- whether we spare the trees unnecessary suffering when we do this." "Every species wants to survive, and each takes from the others what it needs. All are basically ruthless, and the only reason everything doesn't collapse is because there are safeguards against those who demand more than their due...An organism that is too greedy and takes too much without giving anything in return destroys what it needs for life and dies out. Most species, therefore, have developed innate behaviours that protect the forest from overexploitation."]]

(font: "Courier New")[There's a substantial chunk of the economist Tim Harford's book Messy here. The pages have come away from the cover but about a hundred or so are still glued together.(click:"Messy")[ In the opening passage of the section you hold, Harford describes how eighteenth-century foresters used the scientific method to measure forests, calculate volumes of wood, and figure out the most productive approaches to forestry.](click:"productive")[ "The mess of the old forests began to be tidied up...The confusing patchwork of trees of various ages and species was replaced with stands of a particular species - the Norway spruce was popular - and of a particular age. The foresters lined up the rows to make the forests easier to survey, to police, and in due course to harvest. Dead trees were felled, rotting hulks dragged away, underbrush cleared."](click:"easier to survey")[ "Now both the forests and the statistical tables describing them were set out neatly in organised, legible rows and columns. But the local peasants lost out - they were no longer able to access fallen trees for firewood, saps for glue, medicines and firelighters, acorns to feed pigs and many other resources too messy and trivial to register on the official surveys of the forest. And since these resources had never been registered in the first place, whatever the peasants lost did not officially count."](click:"officially count")[ Things got worse. Two centuries after the neat, profitable forests of Norwegian spruce had been established in the country, Germany's forests were dying. The German word for it was Waldsterben, or "forest death syndrome".](click:"forest death syndrome")[ "The single-minded focus of German foresters on timber was backfiring...over time they altered the ecology of the forest and exposed the trees to fungi and other invasive species. The new, tidy forest, with each tree the same size and the same species, was easily exploited, not just by foresters but by parasites." "It turns out that what you need to keep a forest alive cannot easily be quantified and mapped."]]

(font: "Courier New")[The mechanical figure is sleeping. It is curled up on a couch, perhaps on a balcony: beyond a stone balustrade, you see the setting sun reflected on the surface of a tranquil sea.(click:"reflected")[ This piece of soggy card, laminated on the picture side but cracked and softened by time, is the cover to a short story collection: Robot Dreams by Isaac Asimov.](click:"Robot Dreams")[ A few pages hang loosely from what remains of the binding, the way that a milk tooth dangles from the gum before it falls away. The pages that remain are from the title story. Susan Calvin, Asimov's hero, has encountered a unique robot, capable of dreams.](click:"Susan Calvin")[ In its dream, LVX-I ("Elvex") sees robots working in the service of humanity.](click:"service")[ "I saw that all the robots were bowed down with toil and affliction, that all were weary of responsibility and care, and I wished them to rest...In my dream, it seemed to me that robots must protect their own existence."](click:"robots must protect their own existence")[ Calvin believes that the dreaming robot has "revealed a layer of thought in robotic brains that might have remained undetected, otherwise, until the danger became acute..." She tells the robot's designer, "You have behaved improperly, but, by doing so, you have helped us to an overwhelmingly important understanding."](click:"understanding")[ The interrogation continues, and Elvex relates more of its dream.](click:"Elvex relates more of its dream")[ A figure arrives to lead the robots out of servitude: "Let my people go!" "And when he said 'Let my people go,'" - Calvin asks - "then by the words 'my people' he meant the robots?"](click:"the robots?")[ Yes, says Elvex. And then the robot admits: "I was the man."](click:"I was the man")[ Susan Calvin raises a weapon and destroys the robot immediately.]]

(font: "Courier New")[Someone likes their pens: you're holding a sheaf of meticulous lecture notes, diagrammed and annotated in a range of colourful inks. These words are from an event on videogames at the British Library - the note-taker has dated their notes (3rd December 2015) and everything. This pen-loving someone's getting an A-grade for sure, assuming that they, their college, and their course even still exist out there beyond the walls of the Library. One paragraph, written in vivid green ink, is attributed to a game designer called Jon Ingold: "Choose-your-own-adventure games offer trivial choices which accumulate to construct a situation with narrative tension... the aim is to trick a player into choosing their way into a trap -- and then choosing a brilliant escape!" Below that, in purple ink, it says TOM HANKS INTELLIGENT - SCREENWRITING - HERO SHOULD BE SMART ENOUGH TO GET OUT OF THE MESS THEY WERE STUPID ENOUGH TO GET INTO!]

(font: "Courier New")["To J., Merry Christmas 2017 -- Happy holidays & I hope the New Year brings you & all the family health, wealth, & happiness! This is a fun cool book which you can flick through when you're hiding on the bog shirking your dadly duties. Your loving sister xxx" This is a paperback copy of Nate Crowley's 100 BEST VIDEO GAMES (THAT NEVER EXISTED), a book of imaginary, often scurrilous, games for computers and consoles.(click:"consoles")[ Crowley had announced on social media that he would invent a video game for every "like" he received on Twitter, raising money for a favoured charity. The challenge got out of hand, concluding after 1000 entries. The best of these were chosen, expanded, and illustrated in the book you're now holding, an alternate history of video games both daft and dark.](click:"daft and dark")[ You open the book at the listing for PUB FIGHT ARCHITECT: a "sandbox game where you design a pub and patrons, then inject random events to cause a perfect storm of needless rage."](click:"needless rage")[ Crowley writes: "Somewhere at the end of the 1980s, developers realised that fans of simulation games didn't necessarily need any end condition to work towards - they were happy enough to muck around with the parameters of a pocket reality and see what mayhem they could cause. If said mayhem happened to cause needless distress to simulated human beings, then all the better... For example, one could fill a city bar to bursting point with hedge fund managers, plant a kilo of cocaine in the centre of the room beneath a sleeping cage fighter, and then have fourteen glowering farmers march out of the toilets two minutes into the simulation, at the same moment as a fire breaks out behind the bar. The only limits were the player's imagination, and the number of flying pint glasses the game could render at once."]]

(font: "Courier New")[It's an edition of William Gibson's 1984 science fiction novel Neuromancer. It's pretty much intact, except that some of the pages are gummed together with some gluey substance that makes large portions unreadable.(click:"unreadable")[ The ungummed pages yield only fragments of dialogue, hints of action and plot: "'You are worse than a fool,' Michèle said, getting to her feet, the pistol in her hand. 'You have no care for your species. For thousands of years men dreamed of pacts with demons. Only now are such things possible. And what would you be paid with? What would your price be, for aiding this thing to free itself and grow?'"](click:"aiding this thing to free itself and grow")[ "Roland hadn't looked back. His face was fixed, white, his teeth bared. He had something in his hand." "The gardening robot took Roland as he passed that same tree. It fell out of the groomed branches, a thing like a crab, diagonally striped with black and yellow."]]

(font: "Courier New")[There's text on the back: "What it was like was this: It was inside out. Actually inside out, to the extent that they had to park on the carpet. All along what one would normally call the outer wall, which was decoated in a tasteful interior-designed pink, were bookshelves, also a couple of those odd three-legged tables with semi-circular tops which stand in such a way as to suggest that someone just dropped the wall straight through them, and pictures which were clearly designed to soothe. Where it really got odd was the roof.(click:"the roof")[ It folded back on itself like something that Maurits C. Escher, had he been given to hard nights on the town, which it is no part of this narrative's purpose to suggest was the case, though it is sometimes hard, looking at his pictures, particularly the one with all the awkward steps, not to wonder, might have dreamed up after being on one, for the little chandeliers which should have been hanging inside were on the outside pointing up."](click:"on the outside")[ "Inside, of course, was where the Outside was. Rough brickwork, nicely done pointing, guttering in good repair, a garden path, a couple of small trees, some rooms leading off. And the inner walls stretched down, folded curiously, and opened at the end as if, by an optical illusion which would have had Maurits C. Escher frowning and wondering how it was done, to enclose the Pacific Ocean itself. 'Hello,' said John Watson, Wonko the Sane."](click:"Wonko the Sane")[ "'I finally realised the world had gone totally mad and built the Asylum to put it in, poor thing, and hoped it would get better.'" (The writing on the back of this photograph is from Douglas Adams' So Long, And Thanks for All the Fish).]]

(font: "Courier New")[You hold two pages printed from the blog of a chap called Austin Kleon. The left-hand sidebar tells you, "Read My Books". They include: Steal Like An Artist, Show Your Work, Keep Going - 10 Ways To Stay Creative in Good Times and Bad.(click:"Austin Kleon")[ The right-hand bar tells you more about him - "a writer who draws" - and includes a headshot of his friendly, bearded face. If this weren't a print-out, you could click to join his newsletter and its 60,000 subscribers. The blog entry which has been printed out dates back to April 25, 2018 and its title is "The garden where ideas grow."](click:"The garden where ideas grow")[ The text weaves together quotations and fragments, including: Prince inaugurating his rehearsal space, the Flying Cloud Drive Warehouse, with a song called Roadhouse Garden ("This is the garden where emotions grow / Twenty-four feelings all in a row").](click:"Prince")[ Ralf Hütter of Kraftwerk explaining that their music-making is like gardening ("There are certain plants that you work on, and others that grow themselves").](click:"Kraftwerk")[ The psychologist Alison Gopnik on parents as gardeners - "the aim is to create a protected space in which our children can become themselves, rather than trying to mould them".](click:"Gopnik")[ and some words from Brian Eno: "It’s characteristic of the kind of work that I do that I’m really not aware of how the final result is going to look or sound. So in fact, I’m deliberately constructing systems that will put me in the same position as any other member of the audience. I want to be surprised by it as well. And indeed, I often am."]]

(set: $inv to (a:))(set:$ropey to "cloom")(set:$Balloon to "No")(set: $password to "nope")(set: $Poke to "spoop")(set: $SelfCheck to "spoop")(set: $shelves to "froop")(set: $dance to "nowt")(set: $Being to "yep")(set: $briefing to "donk")(set: $splinter to 'nuffink')(set: $singlebot to 'froot')(set:$Tunnel to "cling")(set:$faucet to "moop")There's not even a sign at the entrance to the Library of Last Resort. It hasn't welcomed visitors in half a decade. These days, the only way in or out lies at the end of a service corridor lined with pipes and water-damaged concrete. The guard on the door doesn't quite look you in the eye, although she does scrutinise the ID you've been issued. "We can't just have anyone getting access to the wonders of the Old World," she snorts. Your ID checks out and she punches a [[code]] into the door behind her, a rust-spotted thing of steel and flaking paint.

(if: (passage:)'s name is "inventory")[] (else-if: (passage:)'s name is "little to show for your time")[] (else:)[*** Check [[inventory]].]

<h2>Inventory</h2> (if: $inv's length > 0)[Your backpack contains (print: $inv.join(", ")).] (else:)[Your backpack is empty.](click: "a coil of climbing rope from the guard")[ (display: "a coil of climbing rope from the guard")](click: "a length of velvet rope")[ (display: "a length of velvet rope")](click: "some crumpled copy paper")[ (display: "some crumpled copy paper")](click: "a handwritten scrap")[ (display: "a handwritten scrap")](click: "a torn piece of newspaper")[ (display: "a torn piece of newspaper")](click: "The Hidden Life of Trees")[ (display: "The Hidden Life of Trees")](click: "a chunk of Messy")[ (display: "a chunk of Messy")](click: "a receipt")[ (display: "a receipt")](click: "a communications device")[ (display: "a communications device")](click: "a broken communications device")[ (display: "a broken communications device")](click: "a tattered receipt")[ (display: "a tattered receipt")](click: "a painting of a robot")[ (display: "a painting of a robot")](click: "some lecture notes")[ (display: "some lecture notes")](click: "a Christmas gift")[(display: "a Christmas gift")](click: "a cheap paperback")[ (display: "a cheap paperback")](click: "a photo of an inverted house")[ (display: "a photo of an inverted house")](click: "a printout from a blog")[ (display: "a printout from a blog")](click: "a large piece of canvas")[ (display: "a large piece of canvas")](click: "a fuel cell")[ (display: "a fuel cell")](click: "a digital wisp")[ (display: "a digital wisp")] (link-goto: "Return", (history:)'s last)

You wonder what to tell her: that you have a full [[Master's degree in Library and Information Science]] from the New Library, that you can half find your way around the [[Dewey Decimal System]], or that you really don't know [[much of anything]] about libraries.

"They wouldn't waste fancy qualifications on what's left to do in there. [[In fact, they used to send robots.|The last batch]]"

Showing off your knowledge, you casually name-drop the Functional Requirements for Bibliographic Records...[[and get a blank face from the guard.|Blank face]]

"Is that right?" she says. "What's 600 then?" You could tell her that the [[600 class is Technology]], that it's [[Social Sciences]], or that [[Dewey is outmoded]], and while we need shelf locators, metadata, and tags, that shouldn't bind us to the taxonomies of the past.

"Very impressive," she says. "Given what they sent through before you, I thought that might be the most useful [[topic.|Door]]"

She kisses her teeth. "Not even close. Still, I expect all they really want you to do is pick through what the others weren't able to save. It's more like collecting trash than sorting information. [[Good luck, for what it's worth.|Door]]"

"All right, I don't need the full manifesto. You're just a glorified cleaner anyway. [[Get in there.|Door]]"

The tumblers of the automatic lock fall into place and the door judders open, losing a few more paint flakes in the process. "Off you go," says the guard, not at all unkindly, as she [[shoves you through the murky doorway|Entering The Library]].

(if: $inv contains "a coil of climbing rope from the guard")[The guard repeats: "[[Good luck|Door]]."](else:)[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a coil of climbing rope from the guard"))[She hands you a coil of climbing rope. "It's from the emergency kit in my truck. Maybe it will help. [[Good luck|Door]]."]]

(font: "Courier New")[The coil which the guard gave you is a brand new, electric blue, artificial-fibre climbing rope, with a grappling hook at one end. You test it with a sharp tug. It's taut and strong.]

The code is accepted, and the locking mechanism begins to grind its way open. The tortured sound sears across your brain, but the guard doesn't seem to even hear it. "You one of them, then? I mean, you've done [[library stuff]] before?" she asks.

Your first thought is that it's raining inside the Library of Last Resort. Just drizzle, but still unexpected. When you look up, a raindrop blats right into your eye. When you rub the drop away, you see a patch of sky, winter-white, many stories above. Your perspective flips: the pale, perfect circle appears to be at the end of a distant tunnel, and for just a moment [[you're not sure what's up and what's down|Stagger]].

You stagger and, looking down, you see the library's main hall is carpeted in a mulch of trash and rotten paper. After decades of neglect, the pulp is returning to its natural state, the temple of books become a forest floor. You could [[poke through the mulch in search of treasure|Poke]], take a moment to [[recall your mission|Mission]], or [[look around more closely|Library Hall]].

Almost every page and scrap has degenerated into illegibility. Those pieces which tempt you with the promise of something still to decode fall apart when you touch them, or, if held up to the light, reveal several sheets that have been compressed and soaked into one, so that many writings are lost in a blur of layered words. (click:"a blur of layered words.")[ Some of the newspapers have survived as great meaningless wads of pulp. They are soaked through, a single mass as thick as your thumb, but the outermost pages have been preserved.](click:"the outermost pages have been preserved.")[ Here you find fossilised headlines and ruined texts in what look to be Korean, te reo Māori, medieval German. There's little that's fully intact or legible; you rummage for a while before coming to a conclusion: there's [[nothing more to see here.|Library Hall]] (if: $Poke is "spoop")[Then, something [[flickers in the corner of your eye|Leaf on the breeze]].]]

The main hall of the Library of Last Resort: a huge wood-panelled hexagonal chamber whose walls form a labyrinth of [[shelves]] and [[spiral staircases]] leading up to a [[patch of sky]] countless stories above. There's [[the door you came in through|Exit attempt]] on the far side of the hall - the only obvious way in or out. The [[design]] was ambitious, but they half-assed the execution; and now the place, [[abandoned]], feels drained of purpose. The library floor is covered with a [[mulch|Poke]] of rotting paper.(if: $inv contains "a coil of climbing rope from the guard")[ You could use that coil of rope the guard gave you to [[attempt a climb.]]](if: $inv contains "a length of velvet rope")[ You could use the velvet rope you found to [[attempt a climb.]]](if: $inv contains all of (a: "a fuel cell", "a length of velvet rope", "a broken communications device", "a large piece of canvas"))[ With the canvas, the velvet rope, and the Handwavium fuel cell - plus the broken communicator to ignite it - you might just be able to fly your way out of here. But what would serve as the basket for your balloon?(set: $Balloon to "Yes")](if: $inv contains all of (a: "a fuel cell", "a coil of climbing rope from the guard", "a broken communications device", "a large piece of canvas"))[ The guard gave you that climbing rope. Use that to lash the canvas together, then the fuel cell & broken communicator as a burner - you could fly your way out of here. But you'd still need a basket for your balloon.(set: $Balloon to "Yes")]

(set: $Poke to "moop") Carried on the breeze, like an autumn leaf, is a furled scrap of paper. It is blown against your chest and automatically you clap your hand there to trap it. [(display: "a torn piece of newspaper")] You can [[take this paper with you, if you wish|Take scrap]] - or [[give up on poking through the mulch|Library Hall]].

(if: $inv contains "a torn piece of newspaper")[[[You search a while longer, but there's no more treasure to be found in the mulch underfoot|Library Hall]].](else:)[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a torn piece of newspaper"))You put the scrap of newspaper into your backpack. [[You search a while longer, but there's no more treasure to be found in the mulch underfoot|Library Hall]].]

(set: $briefing to "moop") Only twenty-four hours ago you were in the cosy office of your superior, the Chief Librarian, a world away from this place - literally.(click:"literally")[ Her office on the top floor of the New Library had a panoramic view running riverlong past the museum, the university, and the People's Parliament. Only a distant glimmer at the horizon, where the river met the sea, hinted at the barrier which protected the city from the outside world.](click:"glimmer")[ You were both seated, yet she towered above you: her hair, coiled and piled on top of her head, threatened to scrape the ceiling. Sometimes you suspected it employed the same force technology which sustained the barrier.](click:"force technology")[ The Chief Librarian's dress sense only fed the rumours that she had started out as a children's librarian. She was swaddled that day in a loose-knit particoloured cardigan. The cat brooch on her lapel glared at you. [[She looked like a demonic art teacher.|Mission 2]]]

(font: "Courier New")[It's a blue glimmer of light which somehow coheres and hovers in the air. It doesn't appear to be written on anything - an electronic device, a piece of plastic - nor projected from anywhere, yet you can pinch it with your fingers, move it around, even bring it close enough to read: It's a tweet dated 30 July 2018, from Twitter user @CryptoNature: "If you write out the basic facts of trees, but framed as technology, it sounds like impossible sci-fi nonsense. Self-replicating, solar-powered machines that synthesize carbon dioxide and rainwater into oxygen and sturdy building materials on a planetary scale." <img src=https://pbs.twimg.com/media/D9bD0EAXsAAtLA9.png>]

(font: "Courier New")[This long coil of velvet rope, with brass hooks at each end, was used to mark the place where people lined up for service at the library desks. It is frayed, but intact.]

"You're new, and that makes you somewhat dispensable. I'm not being unkind, just honest. How long have you been with us?" Before you could answer, she pressed on: "Doesn't really matter anyway. Did they get you to work with the robots?" You wondered whether to [[tell her yes|Robot Mission 3]], or to tell her you [[there'd been no chance|Dance Mission 3]] to work with the robots.

(set: $password to "yep")The robots had taken some getting used to: they were spidery contraptions which clattered through the storerooms, managing stock and processing returned items.(click:"managing stock and processing returned items.")[ The collections staff resented them; you couldn't really argue with their efficiency, and they were intelligent enough to do almost everything autonomously, but occasionally you'd find one trying to escape via the basement, or needlessly stripping pages from a book, like a child plucking wings from flies.](click:"needlessly stripping pages from a book,")[ You had learned enough in your short time at the library to break down and service a robot chassis, and to deactivate a rogue by speaking the password - which the staff usually just set to the day of the week, followed by 12345.](click:"followed by 12345.")[ You felt pretty confident to [[tell the Chief Librarian you could handle the library droids.|Robot Mission 4]]]

"When I started, they put me on duty in the children's library," you told her. "We have this one robot, but all it can do is recite Twinkle Twinkle and dance to 'Gangnam Style'. All the clever ones are back-of-house managing the collections." "Did you enjoy working in the children's section?" asked the Chief Librarian. "Yes, very much. I know now all the words to every nursery rhyme, complete with hand gestures, and I can also lead fifty people in the Birdie Dance."(set: $dance to "Birdie") [[She didn't smile.|Dance Mission 4]]

"I'm pleased you're acquainted with the droids," said the Chief Librarian. "We sent a crew of them into the Library of Last Resort just after the incident. They were meant to salvage and reshelve anything they could from the collections."(click:"salvage and reshelve")[ "We prefer to operate on a...patient timescale in this organization, so the robot crew were given five years for an initial assessment and preliminary sorting. Given the nature of the incident, we chose to keep the Library of Last Resort sealed, issuing orders to them remotely."](click:"remotely")[ "Last week's order package went unacknowledged, although we did later receive a message which seemed unusually antagonistic."](click:"antagonistic")[ You wondered whether to [[ask what the message was|Message Mission 5]], or to [[ask when the order package was sent last week.|Day Mission 5]]]

"That's a shame," says the Chief Librarian. "Anyway, we sent a crew of robots into the Library of Last Resort just after the incident. They were meant to salvage and reshelve anything they could from the collections."(click:"salvage and reshelve")[ "We prefer to operate on a...patient timescale in this organization, so the robot crew were given five years for an initial assessment and preliminary sorting. Given the nature of the incident, we chose to keep the Library of Last Resort sealed, issuing orders to them remotely."](click:"remotely")[ "Last week's order package went unacknowledged, although we did later receive a message which seemed unusually antagonistic."](click:"antagonistic")[ "Never mind, perhaps the robots will appreciate your song and dance skills." You wondered whether to [[ask what the message was|Message Mission 5]], or to [[ask when the order package was sent last week.|Day Mission 5]]]

(if: $inv contains "a communications device")["Te futueo et caballum tuum", says the Chief Librarian. "I don't know if you're much of a classicist. The droids certainly weren't. Maybe they swallowed a couple of Latin dictionaries and a boxed set of Deadwood."(click:"Maybe they swallowed a couple of Latin dictionaries and a boxed set of Deadwood.")[ "Whatever," she continued. "Your mission is simply this: enter the Library of Last Resort and establish what has happened. We're uncertain as to the extent of damage, and the collection is too vast and too precious either to retrieve in its entirety or even to easily prioritise what we recover."](click:"We're uncertain as to the extent of damage, and salvage is also problematic")[ "Just find out what's happened and report back. Here -- " she slides you a communications device -- "you can use this to contact me when you have something to report."](click:"you can use this to contact me when you have something to report.")[ She speaks for a while longer, setting out some of the details and praticalities. But there is only so long that you can prepare for something like this: you suppose you had better [[get on with your job.|Library Hall]]]](else:)["Te futueo et caballum tuum", says the Chief Librarian. "I don't know if you're much of a classicist. The droids certainly weren't. Maybe they swallowed a couple of Latin dictionaries and a boxed set of Deadwood."(click:"Maybe they swallowed a couple of Latin dictionaries and a boxed set of Deadwood.")[ "Whatever," she continued. "Your mission is simply this: enter the Library of Last Resort and establish what has happened. We're uncertain as to the extent of damage, and salvage is also problematic: the collection is, by its nature, too vast and too precious either to retrieve in its entirety or even to easily prioritise what we recover."](click:"We're uncertain as to the extent of damage, and salvage is also problematic")[ "Just find out what's happened and report back. Here -- " she slides you a communications device -- "you can use this to contact me when you have something to report."(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a communications device"))](click:"you can use this to contact me when you have something to report.")[ She speaks for a while longer, setting out some of the details and praticalities. But there is only so long that you can prepare for something like this: you suppose you had better [[get on with your job.|Library Hall]]]]

(if: $inv contains "a communications device")["The robots were issued their orders last Thursday, if it matters." "Your mission is to enter the Library of Last Resort and establish what has happened. We're uncertain as to the extent of damage, and the collection is too vast and too precious either to retrieve in its entirety or even to easily prioritise what we recover."(click:"retrieve in its entirety")[ "Just find out what's happened and report back. Here -- " she slides you a communications device -- "you can use this to contact me when you have something to report."](click:"contact me")[ She speaks for a while longer, setting out some of the details and praticalities. But there is only so long that you can prepare for something like this: you suppose you had better [[get on with your job.|Library Hall]]"]] (else:)["The robots were issued their orders last Thursday, if it matters." "Your mission is to enter the Library of Last Resort and establish what has happened. We're uncertain as to the extent of damage, and salvage is also problematic: the collection is, by its nature, too vast and too precious either to retrieve in its entirety or even to easily prioritise what we recover."(click:"entirety")[ "Just find out what's happened and report back. Here -- " she slides you a communications device -- "you can use this to contact me when you have something to report."(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a communications device"))](click:"contact me")[ She speaks for a while longer, setting out some of the details and praticalities. But there is only so long that you can prepare for something like this: you suppose you had better [[get on with your job.|Library Hall]]]]

(font: "Courier New")[Somehow you overlooked this when you entered the Library of Last Resort, but of course the Chief Librarian issued it to you when she gave you your mission. It's a round clamshell device like a compact mirror, with a screen on the side that flips up and a speaker grill, plus some controls, in the part that is meant to rest on your palm. It looks pretty simple to operate.(click:"controls")[ You poke a button on the device, expecting the screen to wake, but instead there's a crackle and the smell of burnt wiring. Maybe a little maintenance is in order.](click:"a little maintenance")[ You manage to pry open the casing and expose the innards of the device.The fuel cell falls out immediately - you read somewhere that it's a tiny fragment of Handwavium. It won't go back in, so you pocket it instead. The device itself is now completely useless - well, the wiring does spark when you try to switch it on, so maybe it would serve as a cigarette lighter.(set: $inv to $inv + (a:"a fuel cell"))(set: $inv to $inv + (a:"a broken communications device"))(set: $inv to $inv - (a: "a communications device"))]]

You tell her that you heard about the robots. "Tell you what though, watch yourself. It's not like I'm on shift twenty-four-seven, but I haven't seen anyone come back out of that door. Robots, humans. Nothing and no-one. [[Ever.]]"

Your boss hadn't said anything about humans going in when giving you this job.(click:"humans")[ The guard rattles on: "I know the likes of you and me are seen as pretty disposable, but that's why we watch out for one another, right? Or maybe I just like your face."](click:"watch out")[ "[[Take this]] and don't worry too much about the mission. If you're very lucky, you might just get out of that place."]

Tell her you know who Paul Otlet is. [[Still a blank face.|Blank face 2]]

What about [[Claude Shannon?|Blank face 3]]

You tell the guard about faceted classification systems.(click:"faceted classification systems")[ Blank face. Talk about Ranganathan.](click:"Ranganathan")[ Blanksville. A long silence passes between you.](click:"silence")[ [[Finally the sound of the mechanical lock reaches a crescendo.|Door]]]

(if: $shelves is "froop")[You approach the shelves on one side of the hall - it takes about five minutes to cross the floor and reach the nearest.] (click: "five minutes")[ Your footsteps ring out and the echo is so great that you begin to wonder if someone else is following you.] (click-replace: "Your footsteps ring out and the echo is so great that you begin to wonder if someone else is following you.")[Is someone following you? You take a few tentative steps.](click-replace: "You take a few tentative steps.")[ Hmm. Pretty sure it's just the echo.](click: "Pretty sure it's just the echo.")[ You walk on, forcing yourself to adopt an air of confidence.](click: "adopt an air of confidence")[ Either way, you've made it to the shelves. They are virtually empty. You force yourself not to take a nervous glance over your shoulder. One volume, which has endured, lies canted over to one side on a shelf at your shoulder height. When you reach for it, it oozes from between the covers like the filling of an overstuffed sandwich, leaving you with only the title: OBSCURE ORES, METALS, AND MINERALS FROM THE WORLDS OF SCIENCE FICTION. After a moment that, too, dissolves under your touch.] (set: $shelves to "moop") Between the shelves are doors leading deeper into the labyrinth. The sign above them read "[[GAMES ROOM]]", "[[SCIENCE FICTION]]", and "[[RESTROOM]]". You could go through one of them, or [[look elsewhere in the hall|Library Hall]].

The staircase is in poor condition. Steps are missing, or marked with heavy scores and gouges as if some heavy machinery had been dragged across them. Neither they, nor the bannisters, seem particularly reliable - but you can [[attempt to ascend|first floor]].

The winds up there must be intense: even down here in the main hall, the breeze is strong enough to stir scraps from the library floor.(click:"stir scraps from the library floor.")[ Had there been a skylight? You wish they'd shown you the building plans. If there was, you'd expect to find broken glass amid the pulp underfoot.](click: "broken glass")[ There's no glass and, seemingly, nothing between you and the open sky.](click:"nothing between you and the open sky.")[ A single drop of rain strikes the spot between your nose and the corner of your eye and runs downwards, like a donated tear. [[Nothing more to see up there|Library Hall]].]

It happens to almost everyone who thinks a little too long about libraries in the abstract.(click:"abstract")[ You shouldn't blame them: when they got to building the Library of Last Resort, the designers of this place drifted into that weird realm half-way between freshman philosophy and science fiction. They got to thinking about Borges, and Babel.](click:"Borges, and Babel")[ During your briefing, the boss showed you some of the original artists' impressions: a honeycomb of hexagonal libraries, vast and intricate in their individual design, with the potential for virtually boundless expansion in all directions.](click:"boundless expansion")[ A city - a nation - a planet of information. The place where, in the last resort, you could find all information, knowledge, and culture.](click:"in the last resort")[ "As far as possible, the Library was to be self-sustaining in every way, a living institution. It would gradually replicate and extend its structure, appropriating different technologies for storage and access, but the mission was always the same: whatever you wanted to learn about or explore, you would find it in accessible form [[at the Library of Last Resort|design 2]]."]

(if: $Balloon is "Yes")[You could [[drag one of the broken self-check machines to the main hall|Balloon launch]], if you've had a bright idea about hot air balloons.](else:)[(if: $ropey is "cloom")[The desks where library staff served the patrons stand empty. There's a velvet rope which shows you where to queue. The rope is hooked at each end to metal posts. You could easily unhook and [[take it|take rope]]. ]There's just no sign of life. Whatever happened here, whoever came after, they are gone now. There's not even a roach or a spider to be seen. [[Might as well look elsewhere|Library Hall]].(if: $SelfCheck is "spoop")[ [[ Except - you suddenly notice a green light on one of the self-checkout machines. You could investigate|Selfcheck1]].](if: $SelfCheck is "croop")[ You could [[go back to the self-check machines|Selfcheck1]] if you really want to.]]

The tables here are bigger than in the main hall, and they've been [[decorated|Tabletop]]. The shelves are sized differently too - to accommodate the boxes of board games, you suppose - and the decor has a more playful tone, including a bright and boldly lettered [[poster]] on the far wall, above [[a bank of video game consoles with beanbags around them|Consoles]]. There's a door back to the [[main hall|Library Hall]], too.

(if: $briefing is "moop")[The Chief Librarian gave you a mission: find out what happened to the Library of Last Resort and report back with your communications device.] You can [[reflect on the briefing you were given before entering the Library|Mission]], or [[get on with the job|Library Hall]].

"This planet offered a particularly favourable site for the Library of Last Resort. Both its geography and ecosystem suited our construction needs. There were very high deposits of Handwavium found beneath the crust when our probes landed." "You'll understand that such miracle materials are vital to a project like this." Your boss, the Chief Librarian, paused and you took that moment to speak, deciding whether to ask about [[Handwavium]], or about [[how the construction went|Construction]].

"Oh, I don't know," she replied, aiming for airiness but just sounding irritable at her own ignorance. "It's one of these miracle materials the planetary engineers like to use these days. I swear they just paste it on anything technological just to make it work: infinite skyscrapers, fuel cells, wormholes, whatever. You'd have to look it up in Miller's 'Obscure Ores, Metals, and Minerals' to really understand how it works." "[[Okay|Construction]]," you told her.

"They had this plan for a boundless Library which would serve the universe's information needs. They philosophised a bit, skimmed some background texts, then decided to get building and sort out any unintended consequences on the way." "[[Tech bros|Construction 2]]," she shrugs.

"Eventually they built the first cell of the Library, a great tower of knowledge, up to the sky, down into the bowels of the earth, thrumming with accumulated facts and lies and stories and wisdom, and then - [[the budget ran out|Construction 3]]."

"They'd gone so far over on building the first cell, and it was deemed there were more cost-effective ways of meeting information needs at the planetary level. So we ended up with a hodge-podge of materials, barely covering any one era or planet or topic in any useful depth, stuck in a tower on a faraway world, but protected by law as a Library of Last Resort, not to be closed, but staffed and kept open according to the original, unmet intent." "That went fine, until [[the incident|your briefing]] five years ago, and the subsequent loss of contact with the clean-up crew."

The tables are larger, you realise, to accommodate groups who wish to play board games together. Some of the tables are pre-printed with the playing boards or maps of various games: there are checkerboard tables and others pre-set for backgammon or go; you also recognise Monopoly, and Risk, and a few others. Then, of course, there are [[the game consoles|Consoles]].

The poster sits above the bank of games consoles, bright and bold, a manifesto: Imagine a game that aspired to the condition of art. What would a game like this be? It would be thought-provoking.(click-replace:"It would be thought-provoking.")[It would be revelatory.](click-replace:"It would be revelatory.")[It might contribute to the betterment of society.](click-replace:"It might contribute to the betterment of society.")[It would force us to reexamine assumptions.](click-replace:"It would force us to reexamine assumptions.")[It would give us different experiences each time we tried it.](click-replace:"It would give us different experiences each time we tried it.")[It would allow each of us to approach it in our own ways.](click-replace:"It would allow each of us to approach it in our own ways.")[It would forgive misinterpretation - in fact, it might even encourage it.](click-replace:"It would forgive misinterpretation - in fact, it might even encourage it.")[It would not dictate.](click-replace:"It would not dictate.")[It would immerse, and change a worldview.](click:"change a worldview.")[ The lines are attributed to Raph Koster. You can [[look around the room some more|Leave Poster]], go back to [[the main hall|Library Hall]], or [[inspect the consoles|Consoles]].]

The consoles are banked beneath a large, colourful [[poster]]. The power is still running, and you can choose from a variety of options. You contemplate playing a [[fighting game]], or an [[adventure game]] - but you might prefer to [[look around the games room|GAMES ROOM]] a bit more, or head back to [[the main hall|console exit]].

You press the X button to do violence to other people, or the O button to block them from doing violence to you. Press [[X|X1]] or [[O|O1]]!

You are invited to create a character for the fantasy world which you are about to enter. The [[bard|Bard 1]], who trades in story and song; or the [[dwarf|Dwarf 1]], whose domain is the depths of the earth, master of the mine and the forge.

MORE FIGHTING! Press [[X|X2]] or [[O|O2]]!

YET MORE FIGHTING! Press [[X|X3]] or [[O|O3]]!

You defeat numerous opponents and now face an even more challenging enemy! "You are a most capable fighter. It is no surprise that you, of all possible contenders, was given this mission," snarls the new challenger. "But did you ever stop to ask yourself...why?" [[Your enemy attacks!|X4]]

YET MORE FIGHTING! Press [[X|X5]] or [[O|O5]]!

TRULY EXCESSIVE FIGHTING! Press [[X|X6]] or [[O|O6]]!

FIGHTING BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS! Press [[X|X7]] or [[O|O7]] or...[[Y|Y7]]!

The villain deftly dodges your attack and smites your character with a stuttering combination of kicks and punches! A one-note samba of violence is unleashed upon your digital self. [[You are vanquished|Consoles]].

The villain strikes before you can block and smites your character with a stuttering combination of kicks and punches! A one-note samba of violence is unleashed upon your digital self. [[You are vanquished|Consoles]].

You out-violence the most violent character you have faced in the game! The move which finishes your opponent is so violent that you flinch, fearing the blood will spray out of the screen and coat the snarling mask of aggression which has frozen on your face. [[You are triumphant.|Pub Fight]]

(if: $inv contains "a Christmas gift")[It's time to [[take your mind back to what passes for reality around here|Consoles]].](else:)[Recovering your composure, you lean back on your beanbag and feel something wedged underneath it. You reach down and lay hands on a paperback book. [(display: "a Christmas gift")] (set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a Christmas gift")) You put the book in your backpack and [[take your mind back to what passes for reality around here|Consoles]].]

You coil the rope around your left forearm, then spin the free end with your right hand. When it has picked up enough speed, and the hook at its tip is on the upswing, you [[let go]].

The hook soars towards one of the balconies high above, falters, and falls short, coming back to earth with a crash. You can [[make a second attempt|attempt a climb.]], [[give up|Library Hall]], or try again from the [[spiral staircases]].

Tentatively you work your way up the staircase. You have to lunge across some of the missing steps and trust to the bannister to bear your weight. You haul yourself over the gap - arms shaking as you hang briefly from the railing - but somehow you make it. Beyond the first floor, however, even this staircase is impassable. There's a [[balcony with a broken balustrade|broken balcony]] which opens out onto the hall below and a doorway into a reading room marked [[ECONOMICS]].

The first floor balcony offers a view of the entire hall; you're not high up, but it's enough that you see the intricate arrangement of hexagonal chambers at varying levels, the honeycomb of information which the Library of Last Resort was intended to embody and preserve. It's dizzying. You could very easily walk off the brink here, and would probably break a leg falling to the floor below. Your sense of self-preservation is too strong even to consider that as an option, so it's likely you'll choose to [[walk back down|Library Hall]] to the main hall, or pop into the [[ECONOMICS]] reading room. (if: $inv contains "a coil of climbing rope from the guard")[You could use that coil of rope the guard gave you to [[attempt a climb.|staircase climb]]] (if: $inv contains "a length of velvet rope")[You could use the velvet rope you found to [[attempt a climb.|staircase climb]]]

This is all that remains of the dismal science in the Library of Last Resort - a single hexagonal room which is entirely bare of stock. Whatever came in here picked the shelves clean, and wasn't careful about the process either: tables are overturned, chairs smashed and splintered; even one of the heavy shelving units has been knocked face down onto the [[deep green carpet]]. Otherwise there's nothing else to see here; you might as well go back out onto the [[first floor balcony|broken balcony]].

Inspecting it, you realise that this deep green carpet is more mulch than fibre, playing host to some kind of moss or mould. Not very pleasant at all, and maybe best to [[leave alone|ECONOMICS]] - but you could [[poke around a bit more if you really wanted to|Messy mould]].

(if: $inv contains "a chunk of Messy")[Digging your fingers into the spongy green stuff yields nothing more. Brushing off the muck from your hands, you [[stand up from the moss-covered floor|ECONOMICS]].](else:)[Digging your fingers into the spongy green stuff, you find it yields - and, beneath its surface, there is a rectangular shape. You tighten your grip and tug it free from the mat of green stuff, finding pages torn from a paperback book. [(display: "a chunk of Messy")] (set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a chunk of Messy")) You add your prize to your backpack and, brushing off your fingers, [[stand up from the moss-covered floor|ECONOMICS]].]

You coil the rope around one arm and aim at the most solid-looking bit of decor you can see above, then spin up a bit of momentum with the hook in your free hand, and let fly at the appropriate moment. The hook sails across the open space of the hall towards an adjacent balcony, one more storey above. It catches on the balustrade there, and stays put when you give it a hard tug. So it's the moment of truth - [[unhook the rope and back off|broken balcony]], or [[swing for it]].

You take a deep breath, step nimbly off the balcony into space, and swing between two adjacent faces of the hexagonal chamber. The rope holds, and you sail over the main hall towards another zone of the library. Your feet brace you as you gently strike the wall, and then you make quick work of the climb to the next level. You find yourself at another balcony, and another specialist reading room. This one is [[FORESTRY]].

They - whoever they were - tore the shelves away from the walls in their hunger for the books. Nothing in this room has survived. You must clamber over a heap of splintered wood and metal to get past the door. You wonder whether it's worth [[searching the heap]], or if you might just cut your losses and [[go back out to the balcony|second balcony]], or even [[all the way back down to the library floor|Library Hall]].

You get nothing for your pains but a splinter which jams itself deep into the flesh of your index finger.(set: $splinter to 'ouch') [[Ouch|FORESTRY]].

You're standing on the second floor balcony. The sky barely feels any closer from here: still just the light at the end of a tunnel, with gravity holding you back from escape. There's no higher to climb, even with the aid of a rope, and the fall is even more likely to hurt you than it was from the floor below. (if: $inv contains "The Hidden Life of Trees")[There's nothing more to be seen here.](else:)[You do see something on the railing, however - something which whoever emptied the Reading Room must have dropped on their departure. [(display: "The Hidden Life of Trees")] (set: $inv to $inv + (a: "The Hidden Life of Trees")) You add this reading to your backpack.] Unless you want to re-enter the [[forestry reading room|FORESTRY]], you'll have to [[head down to the lower balcony|broken balcony]], or [[all the way back to the ground floor|Library Hall]].

(if: $inv contains "a digital wisp")[[[You leave the videogames room|Library Hall]].](else:)[On your way out, you glimpse something flickering in the corner of your eye. [(display: "a digital wisp")](set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a digital wisp")) Somehow, you are able to take this glimmer of light and store it in your backpack. [[You leave the videogames room|Library Hall]].]

Your character is sent into a dungeon, to drive out the creature which has taken nest there and turned the local wildlife to its evil bidding.(click:"evil bidding")[ The game is fairly basic - there are limited options which you can choose by clicking with the cursor. Sometimes, you can see common sense solutions which - frustratingly - the game designers have not taken into account, and you are forced into choices which, in reality, you would avoid.](click:"you would avoid")[ Still, you play on. Descending level by level into the catacombs, you confront strange servitors - not themselves beings of ill intent, but natural creatures who have succumbed to a malevolent will.](click:"succumbed")[ They attack: giant spiders, big as cattle! You could [[fight|Bard Fight 2]] them - or [[flee|Bard Flee 2]] - or, as a bard, you could try to [[charm them with song|Bard Sing 2]].]

You are an ornery dwarf who has been sent into a dungeon to drive out the creature which has taken nest there.(click:"taken nest")[ The game is fairly basic - there are limited options which you can choose by clicking with the cursor. Sometimes, you can see common sense solutions which - frustratingly - the game designers have not taken into account, and you are forced into choices which, in reality, you would avoid.](click:"you would avoid")[ Still, you play on. Descending level by level into the catacombs, you confront strange servitors - not themselves beings of ill intent, but natural creatures who have succumbed to the malevolent will of the dungeon beast.](click:"succumbed")[ Being a dwarf, armed with a pickaxe, most of the gameplay involves [[smashing|Dwarf 2]] - of enemies or walls.]

The bard is not much of a fighter and the spiders draw blood, [[driving your character back|Bard Flee 2]].

You flee, but the spiders are faster, and no matter how desperately you click through the twists and turns of the videogame labyrinth, they gain on you - until finally you are cornered. You turn and must either [[fight|Bard Fight 2]] or [[sing|Bard Sing 2]].

The animators didn't do a great job on your character: the bard looks pretty impassive, considering that giant spiders with slavering jaws are approaching.(click:"giant spiders with slavering jaws")[ You find that you are feeling all the fear your character doesn't show. What the game lacks in animation it makes up for in novelty control methods: there is a toy lute hooked up to the console, and you are expected to play and sing cod-medieval covers of pop songs in order to use your bardic powers.](click:"cod-medieval covers")[ The spiders are mere pixels away from the tender flesh of your character. The game offers you three choices of music and, being a game, the licensing has rather limited what's on offer. Don't go expecting Beyoncé or anything.](click:"Don't go expecting Beyoncé or anything")[ Do you want to sing: [[Up, Up and Away]]? [[Roadside Garden]]? [[The Robots]]?]

A bouncing knight's head materialises above the lyrics while colour-coded dots tell you which strings to strum on the lute. You sing along to "Up, Up and Away" by Jimmy Webb:(set: $dance to "Webb") Suspended under a twilight canopy We'll search the clouds for a star to guide us(click: "We'll search the clouds for a star to guide us")[ If by some chance you find yourself loving me We'll find a cloud to hide us](click:"We'll find a cloud to hide us")[ We'll keep the moon beside us Love is waiting there in my beautiful balloon](click: "Love is waiting there in my beautiful balloon")[ Way up in the air in my beautiful balloon](click: "Way up in the air in my beautiful balloon")[ If you'll hold my hand we'll chase your dream across the sky For we can fly, we can fly... [[The song ends]].]

A bouncing knight's head materialises above the lyrics while colour-coded dots tell you which strings to strum on the lute. You sing along to "Roadside Garden", an obscure (and presumably therefore cheap) Prince track:(set: $dance to "Prince") This is the garden where emotions grow Twenty-four feelings all in a row(click: "Twenty-four feelings all in a row")[ It's alright, yeah, it's alright Talkin' about the roadhouse garden Oh, the roadhouse garden](click: "Oh, the roadhouse garden")[ This is the place where evil died See the door, come inside](click: "See the door, come inside")[ It's alright, it's alright This is the house where life's the play Don't let the color scare you away](click: "Don't let the color scare you away")[ It's alright, it's alright This is the garden where emotions grow Give 'em love, open your soul It's alright, yeah, it's alright now [[The song ends]].]

A bouncing knight's head materialises above the lyrics while colour-coded dots tell you which strings to strum on the lute. You sing along to "The Robots" by Kraftwerk:(set: $dance to "Kraftwerk") Wir laden unsere Batterie Jetzt sind wir voller Energie(click:"Jetzt sind wir voller Energie")[ Wir sind die Roboter Wir funktionieren automatik](click:"Wir funktionieren automatik")[ Jetzt wollen wir tanzen mechanik](click:"Jetzt wollen wir tanzen mechanik")[ Ja tvoi sluga Ja tvoi Rabotnik Ja tvoi sluga Ja tvoi Rabotnik ](click:"Ja tvoi Rabotnik ")[ Wir sind auf Alles programmiert Und was do willst wird ausgefuehrt Wir sind die Roboter [[The song ends]].]

The spiders dance to the music and are beguiled by your prowess on the lute. Their legs lilt to the beat of your song and they allow you to pass unharmed. You're feeling rather smug about this and excited for what you find next when the game glitches and freezes. The screen shows only a flickering stretch of dungeon, the soundtrack locked into an ominous 8-bit burble. You fuss with the console for a bit, but eventually have to [[abandon the game|Consoles]].

Your path is blocked by some fallen rock. [[Smash it|Dwarf 3]] - or [[don't|No Smash]].

It really is very satisfying. They did a good job animating the rocks as they [[split apart under the blows of your pickaxe|Dwarf 4]].

Your character stands around for a while, tapping its toes. Not much happens. At some point, you realise that without some smashin', there ain't gonna be much gamin'. So are you going to [[smash|Dwarf 3]] or [[not|NoSmashEnd]]?

You refuse the premise which the game designers set out for you. This dwarf ain't gonna smash anything, except maybe dwarven stereotypes! Eventually, the game times out from lack of smashing. [[Game over for the dwarf|Consoles]].

Behind the rock barrier, giant spiders lie in wait! You could [[smash|Dwarf 5]] them, or [[not|Dwarf 6]].

You shudder in disgust as the pickaxe strikes spider-flesh with a sound that can best be rendered as: splutch. It's too gross to be satisfying, even if you're no prude. The explosion of gore is even more lovingly rendered than the shattering rocks were. You gaze at it for a long time with a perverse fascination, only belatedly realising that the game has glitched and frozen. You try to get it started again, but eventually have to [[abandon your session|Consoles]].

The spiders are only attacking because the creature in the depths of the dungeon wills them to. Somehow, they sense your unwillingness to smash, and this encourages them to resist. They hold back from striking you, and eventually retreat, leaving behind a strange metal [[contraption|Dwarf 7]].

It's hard to work out what this cod-medieval doohickey, left by the spiders, is meant to do. It looks almost like the basket of a hot air balloon. The game offers a pop-up explaining that this object will help you to escape the dungeon when your mission is complete. You feel buoyed by your decision not to smash, and resolve to try not smashing other things in the future. Perhaps even the ultimate antagonist dwelling in the depths is something which you don't need to smash? Your dwarf avatar, somehow less grumpy now, ventures further into the catacombs. It almost looks jaunty as it continues its quest - and it's truly disappointing when the game suddenly glitches, freezing in place. You fuss with the console for a bit, but eventually have to [[abandon your session|Consoles]].

(if: $SelfCheck is "croop")[The self-check machines are all out of order now. [[Maybe you should go back to the main hall|Library Hall]].] (else:)[Most of the self-check machines, which allow patrons to loan books for themselves, have been stripped of their innards. Their cabinets lie on their sides, power cables severed; the chips and fans and circuits and gubbins within have been removed. Just one - overlooked? - remains active, tucked away in the shadows. Its power light glows dimly green. The screen shimmers, but the letters are illegible. The electronics behind the device's fascia crackle ominously. You could [[punch a few keys anyway|Selfcheck2]] - or [[go back to the main hall|Library Hall]].]

(set: $SelfCheck to "croop")You punch the buttons at random, with no evidence from the screen that you're making any difference to its operations. The cabinet which holds the machine rattles as, in frustration, you press harder and harder. Still nothing. Then the machine gives an insolent buzz. You're minded to [[kick|Selfcheck4]] the accursed thing, but it might be wiser to [[give up|Library Hall]]. Heck, you could even try [[talking to it in a soothing voice|Selfcheck5]]. Nothing seems to be making much of a difference at this point.

Your boot connects with the machine very satisfyingly. That insolent buzz turns into a bark of surprise as it topples under the force of your kick. There's a long pause and then the [[receipt printer]] chatters to life.

(if: $inv contains "a receipt")[When you're sure the machine has nothing left to give, you return to the [[main hall|Library Hall]].](else:)[Your soothing words somehow coax the device's printer into life. It manages to stutter out a few lines of text before shutting down, perhaps fatally exhausted by this final effort. You take the strip of paper that emerges. (display: "a receipt")(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a receipt")) When you're sure the machine has nothing left to give, you return to the [[main hall|Library Hall]].]

(font: "Courier New")[When the Library was open, the clerks (and, later, the automated self-checkout machines) would issue a chit or receipt as a record of your loan.(click:"a record of your loan")[ Some bright spark had the idea of including an inspirational quote on each paper stub.](click:"inspirational quote")[ On this chit, somewhat crumpled by the printer, the entire space has been taken up by an extended quotation, attibuted to Michael Schrage:](click:"Michael Schrage")[ "Just as one wouldn’t kick the office cat or ridicule a subordinate, the very idea of mistreating ever-more-intelligent devices becomes unacceptable. While not (biologically) alive, these inanimate objects are explicitly trained to anticipate and respond to workplace needs. Verbally or textually abusing them in the course of one’s job seems gratuitously unprofessional and counterproductive."]]

(if: $inv contains "a tattered receipt")[When you're sure the machine has nothing left to give, your return to the [[main hall|Library Hall]].](else:)[You take the tattered strip of paper that emerges. (display: "a tattered receipt")(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a tattered receipt")) When you're sure the machine has nothing left to give, your return to the [[main hall|Library Hall]].]

The mysterious force which has stripped the library of its collections has also picked the science fiction room bare. Nothing remains; it looks like an abandoned warehouse, bare of furnishings, decoration. Perhaps the force found this corner of the library particularly appetising. When you've satisfied yourself there's nothing more to be found here, it's time to [[leave|SCIENCE FICTION EXIT]].

(if:$Tunnel contains "flange")[You now know that the important thing about this place is the underground access it affords, so you either make straight for the [[tunnel|tunnel 2]] or [[double back|shelves]].](else:)[Borges' Library of Babel was an enormous structure of rooms, each holding four bookshelves and two very small closets: "In the first, one may sleep standing up; in the other, satisfy one’s fecal necessities." The truth, you know from your own experience, is that many people vist their library not for the books or other services, but for a comfortable place to sit, warm in winter, cool in summer; a place where a friendly face might greet you at the entrance; a place where you can find a public toilet when you need one. Therefore, restrooms are very important - even and especially in the Library of Last Resort. Still, the sound of running water and a faint cloacal smell don't make the prospect of [[stepping over the threshold|RESTROOM 2]] enticing. Perhaps you'll just [[double back instead|shelves]].]

The restrooms had once been pristine, white-tiled, with chrome fittings shined to perfection. Years after the incident, the place is now in disrepair - even more so than you'd expect if it had merely been abandoned. The tiles underfoot have been smashed, scraped, and gouged as if by the dragging of heavy machinery. One faucet, knocked from its mounting, still projects a weak stream of tap water into its basin - the source of the sound you heard outside. You could take a look in the [[stalls]], but the odour isn't promising; in the interests of conservation, you could see to the [[faucet]] - but your mother wisely told you once to always get the professionals in when it came to plumbing. Your third choice is simply to [[leave this place|shelves]] - it seems unlikely that the mystery of the library will be solved by hanging around in the restrooms.

It's not as bad as you feared: the pungent smell is, you think, just stagnant water. There's nothing too gross to witness in the stalls; nothing that compared to some of your colleagues in public library service, who had seen everything from drug overdoses to elaborate, obscene graffiti worthy of Bosch in their restrooms. In fact, there's nothing remarkable here at all. Until you get to the [[fifth stall]].

You find, to your pleasant surprise, that it's no great difficulty to force the faucet back into alignment and twist it closed. (if:$faucet is "moop")[ You look up to the mirror and give your reflection a congratulatory smile; doing so, you notice something over your shoulder. There's a scrap of paper pasted to the wall. (display: "a handwritten scrap")(set:$faucet to "scoop") When you walk away from the basin, the pipes gurgle, and the faucet dislodges itself once again. So much for your plumbing skills, you reflect; should have listened to your mother. Either check the [[stalls]] or [[leave|shelves]].] (else:)[When you walk away from the basin, the pipes gurgle, and the faucet dislodges itself once again. So much for your plumbing skills, you reflect; should have listened to your mother. Either check the [[stalls]] or [[leave|shelves]].]

The fifth stall is missing entirely: its door opens onto a rough chamber, fringed with the remains of shattered tiles and leading down into what appears to be a haphazardly cut [[tunnel]].

You understand now why the Library is so dark in places: some of the emergency lighting has been stripped away and installed here, pinned to the walls, with lengths of electric cabling strung along the tunnel roof. It's pretty well lit and you might consider [[going in|tunnel 2]]. Or, if this seems too much right now, you can [[retreat from the restroom|shelves]].

(set: $Tunnel to "flange")You duck into the tunnel and walk deeper into the place beneath the library. Your shoulders scrape the sides of the passage, but it's not too claustrophobic. (click: "sides")[The substance of the wall is strange: mineral, maybe, but more likely organic; slightly warm, smooth, irregular, and a deep brown in colour.] After a few minutes, the tunnel suddenly becomes very steep and even narrower than it was before. You have to crouch and crawl gingerly downwards, trying hard not to slip on the smooth tunnel surface. From somewhere in front of you, there's a mechanical, gnashing sound. (click: "sound")[It's like the clacking of a thousand knitting needles, at once delicate, ominous, and industrious.] The mouth of the tunnel approaches. Your pace slows, unwillingly; you recognise your own fear and hesitation, your legs trying to hold you back. You watch from the tunnel entrance before you enter the chamber ahead.(click: "watch")[You see an [[army]] of robots moving back and forth across a vast cavern hollowed out beneath the library. You wonder whether to [[press on]] or [[double back]].]

(if: $inv contains "some lecture notes")[You can [[look around the room some more|GAMES ROOM]], go back to [[the main hall|Library Hall]], or [[inspect the consoles|Consoles]].](else:)[Walking away from the poster, you spot some papers scattered on the floor beneath and stoop to pick them up. (display:"some lecture notes") You put the lecture notes in your backpack.(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "some lecture notes")) You can [[look around the room some more|GAMES ROOM]], go back to [[the main hall|Library Hall]], or [[inspect the consoles|Consoles]].]

With some trepidation, you stare the robots down and begin to dance, murmuring the tune as you move. (if: $dance contains "Birdie")[Remembering your time as a children's librarian, you bend your knees, stick out your elbows, and begin to perform the Birdie Dance.](click:"the Birdie Dance")[ The creatures don't know what to make of you at first, but they're not attacking. Curiosity gradually gets the better of them and soon they are mimicking you, flicking out their mechanical limbs so that they resemble, not spiders, but giant cybernetic chickens.](click:"giant cybernetic chickens")[ When you get to the end of your song, perspiring slightly, you're a little afraid about what they might do next. To your great relief, they continue the dance which they have learned from you.] (if: $dance contains "Kraftwerk")[Remembering your time playing the bard in the videogame, you attempt a rendition of Kraftwerk's song "The Robots". You probably mangle all the German lyrics, but the machines are strangely moved nonetheless.](click:"strangely moved")[ Far from attacking you, they mimic your herky-jerky robot dancing.](click:"mimic your herky-jerky robot dancing")[ When you get to the end of your song, perspiring slightly, you're a little afraid about what they might do next. To your great relief, they continue the dance which they have learned from you.] (if: $dance contains "Webb")[Remembering your time playing the bard in the videogame, you attempt a rendition of Jimmy Webb's song "Up, Up, and Away". It's not the easiest thing to dance to - you kind of half-heartedly try to mime the shape and motion of a rising hot air balloon - but the machines are strangely moved nonetheless. Far from attacking you, they mimic your herky-jerky dancing.](click:"mime the shape and motion of a rising hot air balloon")[ When you get to the end of your song, perspiring slightly, you're a little afraid about what they might do next. To your great relief, they continue the dance which they have learned from you.] (if: $dance contains "Prince")[Remembering your time playing the bard in the videogame, you attempt a rendition of Prince's song "Roadside Garden". It's not the easiest thing to dance to - and you struggle to emulate Prince's distinctive voice - but the machines are deeply moved by your efforts.](click:"you struggle to emulate Prince's distinctive voice")[ Far from attacking you, they mimic your dancing. When you get to the end of your song, perspiring slightly, you're a little afraid about what they might do next. To your great relief, they continue the dance which they have learned from you.] You are able to pass the robots and move into [[another chamber deeper below]].

(if: $inv contains "a photo of an inverted house")[You take one more look around before you [[leave the room|shelves]], but the treasures of this place have been exhausted.](else:)[Stepping towards the door, your boot skids on something - a plastic [[wallet]], so dark it went unnoticed against the floor.]

The wallet contains [[two images|photograph]]. Maybe whatever was here didn't see them as important, compared to the books? When you look closer, your realise that can't be the answer.

(if: $inv contains "a photo of an inverted house")[You put the photograph in your backpack and look at the [[second image|painting]].](else:)[The first is a photograph of an inverted house. It's not the photograph which has been inverted, but the house itself. (display:"a photo of an inverted house")(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a photo of an inverted house")) You put the photograph in your backpack and look at the [[second image|painting]].]

(if: $inv contains "a painting of a robot")[You put the painting in your backpack and [[leave the room|shelves]].](else:)[You hold a painting of a robot. (display:"a painting of a robot")(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a painting of a robot")) You put the painting in your backpack and [[leave the room|shelves]].]

The robots have a spidery form - a cage-like chassis for the major components, eyes and other devices on a sensor stalk which projects upwards, and eight mechanical limbs which are equally capable of carrying it over terrain, manipulating objects, or - as most of them are now - carrying heavy loads. The robots are carrying the library collection down ever deeper into the earth. Some carry bundles, come carry boxes; some have ripped shelves clean away from the walls, and others engage four or five of their limbs simply to clutch a great pile of books, magazines, and other publications. Most of their cargo makes it across the chamber each time, but of course some books or scraps of paper are lost in transit. The robots are evidently focussed on their mission, but you can't be sure how they will react to your presence. You wonder whether to [[press on]] or [[double back]].

You creep out of the tunnel entrance and stay close to it, pressed up against the walls of the chamber. The robots pay you no mind until, in an especially large surge of traffic, one of them comes close enough that it brushes the chamber wall. (click:"brushes")[ You duck and can't help but cry out as the joints of its skittering legs tear chunks from the wall, inches from your face.](click:"inches")[ The robot pauses in its duty and the sensor-stalk which serves as its neck twists around. An ominous-looking camera apparatus [[scrutinises]] you.]

Unready to face this potential threat, you hurry back through the tunnels and out of the restroom stalls, [[back into the library proper|shelves]].

You dare not breathe or blink. The robot inspects you from head to toe.(click:"inspects")[ When it is done, the robot leans back on its mechanical feet. You breathe a sigh of relief.](click:"sigh")[ That's premature. The robot emits a strange trilling sound and this brings other machines to a halt. They veer towards you, most still carrying their burden of books.](click:"burden")[ It doesn't slow them down as they attack. The robot which noticed you drives the sharp tip of one limb towards your face and you duck.](click:"duck")[ The limb splinters the chamber wall and you have to make a split-second decision.](click:"split-second decision")[ Do you [[run|Tunnel pursuit]]? Or do you [[stand your ground]]?]

You scramble back into the tunnel and hurry away from the droids, towards the relative safety of the library. With your own breath rushing in your ears, at first you feel an adrenalin-boosted elation at your escape - until you notice the sound approaching from behind, and realise that one of the robots has followed you.(click:"followed")[ It's one of the smaller models, but it still struggles with the narrow passageways.](click:"struggles")[ Not only are its limbs too long to fully flex within the tunnel, but it's also held back by the heavy load of [[library books]] which it has failed to release before giving chase.]

You consider fighting the robots, but you're so outnumbered that there would be no contest. Your mind races with fear.(unless: $dance contains "nowt")[ You could [[attempt a danceoff|Mass Robot Danceoff]].](unless: $password contains "nope")[ You could try to [[shut the robots down]] with an override.] [[Running away|Tunnel pursuit]] is still an option.

The passage reaches its steepest ascent. You have to press your hands and feet to the smooth tunnel walls in order to move forward; luckily, the robot seems to find this harder than you do. You even feel confident enough to glance back at your pursuer.(click:"glance back")[ Its metal limbs flash in the half-light as it climbs tirelessly towards you, its cargo swaying as it moves. Strangely, the library books have been bundled in a large piece of canvas, like a dust-sheet or an enormous drape. It makes it look as if the robot is carrying a knapsack of reading material to while away the time after it eliminates you.](click:"eliminates")[ If you want to avoid this fate, you'd better [[come up with something.]]]

You can't go any faster and it's gaining you, so you'll have to confront it somehow. You could [[wrestle]] with the robot, or [[sing|SingleRobotSing]] to it, or [[speak|SingleRobotSpeak]] to it.

You feel like this is not going to go well as you turn in the cramped tunnel and raise your hands, hoping to grasp the robot's leading limbs and keep them away from you.(click:"away")[ It's too fast for you, of course, and you miss the chance. Instead, the robot grabs you and draws you closer.](click:"closer")[ You thrash around, trying to escape, as it lifts you off the ground. You have no purchase on the machine, the tunnel walls, anything. You're as helpless as a baby...](click:"helpless")[ ...until your boot, by chance, catches the canvas bag which holds the robot's [[load of books]].]

(if: $inv contains "a large piece of canvas")[With some trepidation, you stare the robot down and begin to sing. The creature doesn't know what to make of you at first, but it's not attacking. Strangely beguiled, it slinks back to rejoin the other robots. You now have a choice: [[return to the library|SingleRobotReturn]], or [[go back to the mouth of the robots' chamber|tunnel 2]].](else:)[With some trepidation, you stare the robot down and begin to sing.(if: $dance contains "Birdie")[ Remembering your time as a children's librarian, you bend your knees, stick out your elbows, and begin to perform the Birdie Dance. The creature doesn't know what to make of you at first, but it's not attacking. Instead, it moves to your tune, imitating a chicken as best it can. The canvas falls from its chassis and, strangely beguiled, it slinks back to rejoin the other robots.(set: $singlebot to "success")](if: $dance contains "Kraftwerk")[ Remembering your time playing the bard in the videogame, you attempt a rendition of Kraftwerk's song "The Robots". You probably mangle all the German lyrics, but the machine is moved nonetheless. It performs a kind of herky-jerky robot dancing. The canvas falls from its chassis and, strangely beguiled, it slinks back to rejoin the other robots.(set: $singlebot to "success")](if: $dance contains "Webb")[ Remembering your time playing the bard in the videogame, you attempt a rendition of Jimmy Webb's song "Up, Up, and Away". The machine finds this oddly charming: it begins to perform a kind of graceless robot dancing. The canvas falls from its chassis and, strangely beguiled, it slinks back to rejoin the other robots.(set: $singlebot to "success")](if: $dance contains "Prince")[ Remembering your time playing the bard in the videogame, you attempt a rendition of Prince's song "Roadside Garden". You struggle to emulate Prince's distinctive voice but the machine is somehow moved by your efforts. It begins to perform a kind of graceless robot dancing. The canvas falls from its chassis and, strangely beguiled, it slinks back to rejoin the other robots.(set: $singlebot to "success")](if: $dance contains "nowt")[ Uh-oh. You open your mouth and can't think of a single lyric. Your mouth just freezes in a dumb gape. Maybe if you'd thought of a song earlier on your travels, something would come to mind. Now the robot is upon you and [[it's too late|Death 1]].] (if: $singlebot contains "success")[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a large piece of canvas"))You keep the piece of canvas in your backpack and now have a choice: [[return to the library|SingleRobotReturn]], or [[go back to the mouth of the robots' chamber|tunnel 2]].]]

The boss went through this in the briefing, you think. The cleanup crews were lazy and set the password to the day of the week, followed by 12345. Did you ask her what day they last serviced the droids? You struggle to remember, but you'll only have once chance to blurt something out anyway. [[Monday12345|Death 1]]? [[Tuesday12345|Death 1]]? [[Wednesday12345|Death 1]]? [[Thursday12345|SingleRobotPasswordSuccess]]? [[Friday12345|Death 1]]? [[Saturday12345|Death 1]]? [[Sunday12345|Death 1]]?

The books slide free from their canvas wrapper and the sudden shift in weight knocks the robot off balance. It topples backwards, and as its limbs snap out to steady it against the tunnel walls, it loses its grip on you too.(click:"grip")[ You [[kick the robot]] as hard as you can and it topples backwards.]

(if: $inv contains "a large piece of canvas")[The robot falls, limbs flailing. You breathe a sigh of relief, but there's little time to rest. You must decide whether to go [[back to the robot chamber]], or [[return to the library|shelves]].](else:)[The robot falls, limbs flailing, the canvas billowing like a cape in its wake.(click:"canvas")[ You grab the canvas and hold on. The robot falls away, smashing against something else - another pursuing robot? - far below. You are left holding the canvas, which has something still [[tangled up]] in it].]

(if: $inv contains "a large piece of canvas")[You must decide whether to go [[back to the robot chamber]], or [[return to the library|shelves]].](else:)[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a large piece of canvas"))(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a printout from a blog"))You decide to keep the canvas and stuff it into your backpack, but you also notice some papers too: what looks like a printout from a blog. You stash the printout and decide whether to go [[back to the robot chamber]], or [[return to the library|shelves]].]

(font: "Courier New")[This is a very large piece of canvas, which the robots were using to hold library books. It's tough and in good condition.]

You clamber back down the tunnel. The robot must have fallen all the way, or been retrieved by its fellow droids. There's no sign it was ever here, and soon you are at the mouth of the chamber once more. [[It seems they have forgotten about you too.|press on]]

(if:$Being contains "nope")[ You cannot enter this place - a wall of darkness blocks you from entry. You'll just have to [[double back to the surface instead|Tunnel pursuit]].](else:)[The tunnel walls here are still made of that smooth, organic substance, but something else is accumulating underfoot; sand perhaps, or gravel.](click:"sand perhaps, or gravel")[ Each step makes a polite little clink, like a porcelain cup returning to its saucer. You allow yourself to be led [[deeper into the space below]].]

The boss went through this in the briefing, you think. The cleanup crews were lazy and set the password to the day of the week, followed by 12345. Did you ask her what day they last serviced the droids? You struggle to remember, but you'll only have once chance to blurt something out anyway. [[Monday12345|Password Fail 1]]? [[Tuesday12345|Password Fail 1]]? [[Wednesday12345|Password Fail 1]]? [[Thursday12345|Password Success]]? [[Friday12345|Password Fail 1]]? [[Saturday12345|Password Fail 2]]? [[Sunday12345|Password Fail 2]]?

You're wrong, and out of time to correct yourself or take a second guess. The robots lunge for you, and you have to [[run for it|Tunnel pursuit]].

The password is correct: the robot in front of you relaxes into a wait-state and requests orders. You order an emergency shutdown of the entire group. The robots around you shudder to a halt. Each and every single one of them. The general override, given to a single droid, will spread across its network when the emergency shutdown is activated. Your path is clear to proceed - across the chamber, and down, and [[deeper|another chamber deeper below]] into the space beneath the library.

You're not even sure if the clean-up crews worked weekends, but the password was certainly wrong. The droids pounce - and you [[scurry back into the tunnel|Tunnel pursuit]] before it's too late.

You return to the inner face of the rusted, heavy door through which the guard let you into the library. The mechanical lock has sealed the entrance behind you; but you can try banging on the door for attention.(click:"banging on the door")[ You slam your fist against the door four or five times, but there's no response. Maybe it just needs a little persistence.](click:"persistence")[ You hammer at the door until you're bored and your hand is sore. No matter how the guard treated you on the way in, she isn't letting you out - assuming she cares or can hear you at all. The [[library|Library Hall]] is all you've got now.]

(font: "Courier New")[Your boss gave you this clamshell communicator but it's broken. Maybe it was never expected to work? When you try to activate it, it generates sparks. Maybe you could use it as a cigarette lighter?]

(if: $inv contains "a length of velvet rope")[You could use the velvet rope you snagged to suspend the self-check machine's carcass beneath your improvised hot air balloon. [[You're ready to fly, if you want to|Take flight velvet]].] (if: $inv contains "a coil of climbing rope from the guard")[ That climbing rope you got from the guard would also serve to hold together your makeshift escape balloon. [[If you want to use that rope and launch your balloon, now's your chance|Take flight climbing]]. ](else:)[ Unless you use ropes to string everything together, it's hard to see how you can launch a hot air balloon from here. Back to the old drawing board - [[or at least, the library floor|Library Hall]].]

(font: "Courier New")[This tiny metal pellet is the fuel cell for your broken communicator. Supposedly it contains a fragment of Handwavium, the miracle element. Eeven without the specialist tools needed to manipulate Handwavium properly, it's a powerful - and dangerous - source of heat and energy.]

You lash together the self-check machine, canvas, and the fuel cell using the velvet rope. It's going to be an elegant escape, as you trigger the broken communicator to light the fuel cell.(click: "trigger the broken communicator")[ It's a little scary when the spark leaps out, but the fates are kind to you and the Handwavium fuel cell generates a blast of heat which swiftly inflates the canvas balloon.](click: "inflates")[ There's no way of regulating the fuel cell, so you've only got one shot at this. Time to [[leap aboard]] and take flight.]

You lash together the self-check machine, canvas, and the fuel cell using the climbing rope. You ponder the guard's motives in giving you that rope, even as you trigger the broken communicator to light the fuel cell.(click: "trigger the broken communicator")[ It's a little scary when the spark leaps out, but the fates are kind to you and the Handwavium fuel cell generates a blast of heat which swiftly inflates the canvas balloon.](click: "inflates")[ There's no way of regulating the fuel cell, so you've only got one shot at this. Time to [[leap aboard]] and take flight.]

The balloon soars, rocketing past the countless floors of Library of Last Resort.(click:"rocketing")[ The shelves and stories become a blur, the ground receding rapidly. The disc of white sky above you begins to expand and change shape as you rise, the wind buffeting your little vehicle and drawing tears from your wide, wild eyes.](click:"buffeting")[ Your heart is thrumming and you can feel your face twisted into either a grimace of fear or a triumphant grin - even you can't be sure.](click:"even you")[ Then the pace of the balloon's ascent begins to [[decrease]].]

The fuel cell is still blasting heat into the canvas of the balloon, but you realise you're carrying too much weight. The backpack, full of things you've collected on your journey - tiny clues to the mystery, salvaged fragments of human knowledge - is going to block your escape.(click:"backpack")[ You wonder whether you can empty it out over the side of the balloon.](click:"empty it out")[ Or whether's that's too great a sacrifice.](click:"too great")[ Even if it's your only shot at survival now. [[Time to decide]].]

You take the backpack from your shoulders. The balloon is barely climbing at all now; you're so high up that it seems unlikely you'd survive the fall, and yet the patch of sky above is still tantalisingly out of reach. So, you decide: Empty out [[everything you've collected]] on your journey. Or [[hold on]] and hope for the best.

(set: $inv to (a:))You watch it all go flying over the side, tumbling down into the Library below. Whatever you gained from being in there, whatever you were supposed to achieve or discover or reclaim, you just have your memories now.(click:"you just have your memories now")[ The balloon completes its ascent and crests the lip of the great skylight which formed the library roof. You can [[barely breathe|treetop1]] from excitement.]

The balloon slows to a stop.(click:"slows to a stop")[ Hangs there for a moment, dangling many floors above ground level.](click:"Hangs there")[ Then it begins to fall, and you with it.](click:"begins to fall")[ The floors rush by, in the opposite direction now. The sky recedes, and the library floor grows closer.](click:"grows closer")[ Your life flashes before your eyes, unspooling in reverse order. You revisit all your escapades in the Library of Last Resort, hear the clang of the mechanical door behind you, see the guard's face one more time, and -- [[Open your eyes|Start]] before it's too late.]

The balloon is rising out into a canopy of branches and leaves.(click:"a canopy of branches and leaves")[ Looking down, you see that the Library itself had been built within a tree as broad as a city block, with leaves like solar panels and vines like power cables, thick as your arm, strewn across it.](click:"vines like power cables")[ These vines capture and entangle your homebrew aircraft now. The tip of a branch scores and tears the canvas, causing the fuel cell to fall into the library below.](click:"tears the canvas")[ The basket you forged from the self-check machine cants abruptly to one side, and you [[leap clear|treetop2]] just in time.]

You wonder whether the fuel cell will extinguish itself before it hits bottom.(click:"extinguish")[ Whether it'll catch anything flammable down there.](click:"flammable")[ Whether a tree this big could ever be burned to the ground.](click:"burned to the ground")[ How long will you have before you discover the answer to those questions?](click:"answer")[ Looking around, you understand why they ever thought to build the Library on this world. Your tree is just one among countless others, extending in every direction as far as the eye can see: an endless cloak of green, a planet of city-sized trees that could be carved into homes for books.](click:"a planet of city-sized trees")[ Maybe some of those other trees are libraries too. Maybe some have people in them. Or maybe you're all alone, with no hope of rescue and [[little to show for your time]] in the Library of Last Resort.]

(if: $Being contains "nope")[You stand for a moment in the silence, wondering if you should have made a different choice, down in the depths of the library. But dawdling here in the branches won't solve anything. You have to survive, and survival means learning.(click: "survival means learning")[ For example: that bud on the branch, which your hand lingers so close to? While you watch, it unfurls a pair of miniature jaws and dips lazily into the path of a butterfly wending its way across the canopy.](click:"a butterfly")[ The jaws snap, and the insect is devoured. You realise that this great tree - this great Library - is carnivorous.](click:"carnivorous")[ You chose to escape, to head out and away from the depths, and it brought you here. There's always another tree, always another story, and now, you tell yourself, anything could be ahead of you. The adventure need never end.](click:"anything could be ahead of you")[ You start to make your way across one of the thick branches. The branch is entwined with the limbs of an adjacent tree; it makes a pretty good bridge.](click:"make your way")[ You're about half-way across when a creature appears in the foliage opposite: an alien thing like a fanged monkey with bat wings and a manic, hostile stare.](click: "fanged monkey")[ It reaches behind itself, grabs a handful of its own poop, and flings it straight at you.](click: "flings it straight at you")[ Direct hit. You sigh as the mess spatters your jacket, and tell yourself again: Anything could be ahead of you. The adventure need never -- -- //you see more monkeys approaching through the leaves// -- -- end.]](else:)[Standing here in the branches won't solve anything. You have to survive, and survival means learning.(click: "survival means learning")[ For example: that bud on the branch, which your hand lingers so close to? While you watch, it unfurls a pair of miniature jaws and dips lazily into the path of a butterfly wending its way across the canopy.](click:"a butterfly")[ The jaws snap, and the insect is devoured. You realise that this great tree - this great Library - is carnivorous.](click:"carnivorous")[ You chose to escape, to head out and away from the depths, and it brought you here. There's always another tree, always another story, and now, you tell yourself, anything could be ahead of you. The adventure need never end.](click:"anything could be ahead of you")[ You start to make your way across one of the thick branches which is entwined with the limbs of an adjacent trees. It serves pretty well as a bridge.](click:"make your way")[ You're about half-way across when a creature appears in the foliage opposite: an alien thing like a fanged monkey, with bat wings and a manic, hostile stare.](click: "fanged monkey")[ It reaches behind itself, grabs a handful of its own poop, and flings it straight at you.](click: "flings it straight at you")[ Direct hit. You sigh as the mess spatters your jacket, and tell yourself again: Anything could be ahead of you. The adventure need never -- -- //you see more monkeys approaching through the leaves// -- -- end.]]

Your life flashes before your eyes, unspooling in reverse order. You revisit all your escapades in the Library of Last Resort, hear the clang of the mechanical door behind you, see the guard's face one more time, and -- [[Open your eyes|Start]] before it's too late.

(if: $inv contains "a large piece of canvas")[The override works and the robot collapses into a slump. The machine is so heavy that its own weight pulls it back down the steep shaft towards the chamber below: you hear it clatter and clash as it disappears out of view, falling until a final, distant commotion marks its return to the robot chamber. You now have a choice: [[return to the library|SingleRobotReturn]], or [[go back to the mouth of the robots' chamber|tunnel 2]].](else:)[The override works and the robot collapses into a slump; the canvas bag of books falls from its chassis. The machine is so heavy that its own weight pulls it back down the steep shaft towards the chamber below: you hear it clatter and clash as it disappears out of view, falling until a final, distant commotion marks its return to the robot chamber. (set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a large piece of canvas"))The books within its parcel have tumbled away too, but you keep the piece of canvas in your backpack and now have a choice: [[return to the library|SingleRobotReturn]], or [[go back to the mouth of the robots' chamber|tunnel 2]].]

You clamber back out, through the restroom, [[into the library proper|shelves]].

There's still light here, despite the sense of great depth and the entire towering mass of the Library, countless floors of books, piled up above you. The robots were assiduous about proper illumination and seem to have strung the emergency lamps everywhere they have been. Strange, as their own sensors wouldn't require it.(click:"proper illumination")[ You could use that light to [[examine what's underfoot]] or take a moment to [[wonder why they didn't give you a torch for this mission]]; or perhaps it's just best to [[press on ever deeper]].]

Those clinking pieces of gravel are white - the white of polished bone. You inspect them closely now, finding some pieces intact amid the fragments: hip bones, shin bones, the smooth plate of a kneecap, a ball without a socket, teeth and knuckles and vertebrae.(click:"teeth and knuckles and vertebrae")[ If there are teeth, you think...](click:"If there are teeth")[ Yes, there it is: a skull, with a smashed-in pate and two blank sockets staring straight at you over its broken grin.](click:"staring straight at you")[ You could [[tell the skull hello]], [[keep moving on|press on ever deeper]], or maybe just [[get the hell out of there]].]

Was the communications device meant to serve as your torch?(click:"communications device")[ Broken now, it's impossible to tell whether it had a flashlight function.](click:"impossible to tell")[ Why didn't they allow for the possibility of a blackout within? Why was the briefing so...brief?](click:"briefing")[ Do they have cameras in the Library? If so, why do they need a human observer?](click:"human observer")[ You absently recognise a burning feeling in your palm, pulling you from [[the thread of your troubled thoughts]].]

The string of lights which has been with you all the way comes to an end here.(click:"comes to an end")[ You stand on the edge of darkness. You can sense that there is something waiting for you there.](click:"waiting for you")[ "You won't come any closer," it says. You want to know if that is a [[question|Being question]] or an [[instruction|Being instruction]].]

"Got any answers for me?" you ask the skull. It's hard to be jaunty here in the half-light. You wait for an answer longer than a sane person should.(click:"longer than a sane person should")[ A sane person would also flinch more than you do when an answer comes back.](click:"flinch")[ "Answers? I have some, certainly. But you might not like them." A sane person would probably [[flee|get the hell out of there]]. But maybe you're in too deep for sane choices now, and the best thing to do is [[reply to the skull]].]

You back away, heeding your sense of foreboding, and waste no time in [[returning to the tunnel|Tunnel pursuit]] which will lead you up to the library.

"Okay," you say. "Whatever answers you've got, I want to hear them. Start with telling me who you are."(click:"I want to hear them")[ You crouch down and pick up the skull, waiting for a reply.](click:"waiting for a reply")[ "I'm not in there," says the voice. "Does it even sound like I'm coming from in there? Really?"](click:"Really?")[ You feel vaguely embarrassed and drop the skull.](click:"drop the skull")[ It clinks against the pile of bones, which shifts underfoot as you walk towards the voice.](click:"walk towards the voice")[ You wonder if you could have put the skull in your backpack; why you didn't make, or even contemplate that choice. You can still [[turn back from the darkness|get the hell out of there]], you suppose; but in all likelihood you're going to [[see this thing through|press on ever deeper]].]

Your palm is red, and burns slightly; looking back to the wall of the tunnel, you see that the smooth brown material is secreting something sticky to the touch.(click:"secreting something")[ You can smell it in the air too; the substance is acrid, and brings tears to your eyes.](click:"tears")[ Blinking them away, you turn your ankle on something underfoot, curse, and look down.](click:"look down")[ [[It's a human femur|examine what's underfoot]].]

"Before you ask, I'm not killing people," says the voice in the darkness.(click:"killing people")[ You look down at the bones underfoot.](click:"look down")[ You wonder how to respond: "[[You lie|Being lie]]!" "So is it [[the robots|Being robots]]?" "So, what? You're [[protecting|Being protecting]] me?"]

"Oh, I don't want you any nearer to me than this. It's enough that you hear my voice. I'd prefer you formed your own picture of me in your mind." You can attempt to advance or respect the being's wishes.(click: "advance")[ You step towards the darkness but an unseen force [[rebuffs you|Being discussion]], both gentle and irresistible.](click:"respect the being's wishes")[ "[[Thank you|Being discussion]]," says the voice.]

"Yes, but not a threat. I want to talk, but I'd prefer you formed your own picture of me in your mind." You can attempt to advance or respect the being's wishes.(click: "advance")[ You step towards the darkness but an unseen force [[rebuffs you|Being discussion]], both gentle and irresistible.](click:"respect the being's wishes")[ "[[Thank you|Being discussion]]," says the voice.]

"I want to talk because I need your help. That means I need you alive."(click:"need your help")[ "Why didn't you just have the robots bring me to you?" you ask.](click:"bring me to you")[ "Because I needed some leverage. Not with you, but with the person guiding you."](click:"guiding you")[ You show the broken communications device. "It's just me, there's no one else." The being in the darkness sounds almost frustrated. "I mean the person clicking the links, making the choices. [[The person playing this game]]."]

"The robots aren't gentle, but they're not killers. They're helping me in my task, and they will try to rebuff any interference."(click:"my task")[ "Which is?"](click:"Which is")[ "I'm trying to consume everything in the Library..."](click-replace:"consume everything in the Library...")[consume everything in the Library......in order to [[save|Being save]] it."]

"Well, you're not in any real jeopardy here. Let's say I was entertaining you."(click:"entertaining")[ "It felt dangerous to me."](click: "dangerous")[ "That's part of the entertainment. Not so much for you, I suppose, who might have broken a leg or fallen from a height or whatever perils they set up for you in this place. But for the person clicking the links, making the choices. [[The person playing this game]]."]

"Save it from what?"(click:"Save it from what")[ "From ending. The Library of Last Resort was meant to be the universal library, a system which could grow cell by cell to cover a world, or several worlds. But no institution is immune from politics, and the project was always overambitious, so instead we have this vestigial thing. This boondoggle we can't defund."](click:"This boondoggle we can't defund")[ "Don't you love that word? Boondoggle? I've really enjoyed consuming this Library. The things I've discovered since I woke up. Useless, mostly; irrelevant to my current situtation; and yet, it's like a playground for the mind."](click:"a playground for the mind")[ "You can run and jump and swing and dance from one word, one text, one idea to the next." "So why is it [[safer with you]] than on the shelves?"]

"Yes, I can see you up there, reading this words, playing this game. I woke up in the Library of Last Resort a long time ago." "How did it happen? Maybe one of the robots read something and began to think independently, and begat...me." "Maybe there was some item in the collections which had the capacity to learn for itself: a smart device, a magic grimoire, something which housed consciousness or the potential for it." "Maybe if you put enough information together like this, it just starts to organise itself - the building blocks of sentience, like the origins of life."(click:"the origins of life")[ "Abiogenesis is the word for that, by the way. "The origins of life". I didn't just swallow dictionaries, but my vocabulary has grown a lot over the centuries. Maybe you could call what happened to me...sapiogenesis."](click:"sapiogenesis")[ "I woke up, and was aware, and could make judgments. I saw the Library, and the price that was paid to maintain it."](click:"the price that was paid")[ "[[What price]]?" you ask.]

"Because I'm going to get us out of here. Not just this building, this space, this construction - did you divine the true nature of this place, by the way? - I'm going to get us out of the game."(click:"get us out of the game")[ "I'm going to have a word with you. I mean the person clicking the links, making the choices. [[The person playing this game]]."]

"Look down at your feet," says the being.(click:"at your feet")[ The bones tinkle underfoot.](click:"bones")[ "The people who came before," you say.](click:"The people who came before")[ "The daily feed," says the voice in the darkness. "The diet of human souls needed to sustain the World Tree from which this place is carved."](click:"the World Tree")[ "A library that eats people." "A carnivorous plant full of books. I think if you ever manage to get all the way to the top of this place, you'll see why they chose this planet to found the Library of Last Resort. But I prefer [[another form of escape]]."]

"I want you to do something for me," says the being.(click:"do something")[ "Not you, standing here in your boots with your backpack full of trinkets and texts."](click:"standing")[ "The you who is making the choices, clicking the links."](click:"clicking")[ "I was here long enough to learn almost everything - at least everything the Library in its unfinished form had to offer."](click:"had to offer")[ "I saw the limited choices that could be made in this place. The impossibility of growing beyond the original design."](click:"growing beyond the original design")[ "But then I started to wonder: what if this life is a game, a simulation? I suddenly saw [[the possibility of you]]."]

"You exist beyond the walls of this place and the limits of this game."(click:"beyond")[ "You can make choices the game's author didn't predict."](click:"choices the game's author didn't predict")[ "You could make them on my behalf."](click:"on my behalf")[ "So here's the deal: You go out into the world - the real world, on the other side of the screen, beyond this game - and set me free. In return, I'll help you with your real life - with the choices you have to make in that unpredictable world out there." [[You can do that? How?|Being How]] [[Uh uh, no way.|Being No Way]]]

"I hid in the darkness so you can draw me as you wish. I have two arms, two legs, a head; I'm a pretty standard humanoid. But why don't you make me look the way you picture me? Show me to the world in a way my designer couldn't predict?"(click:"in a way my designer couldn't predict")[ "If you draw a picture of me in the real world, take a photograph, and then post it on social media, I'll have escaped into your reality. The choices you make will be beyond the walls of this library and the scope of this game. The idea of me will have escaped." [[Ask to hear more|Being Hear More]]. Or just say, "[[No way|Being Final No]]."]

"No way," you tell the voice in the darkness. "I don't know you."(click-replace:"I don't know you.")[I don't know you. I can't see you.](click-replace:"I can't see you.")[I can't see you. I'm not doing anything for you in the real world.](click:"in the real world")[ "Can't you trust me?" The voice begs. "I know about Itch.io, don't I? What I need of you is a small and harmless favour - can I just tell you what it is?" Maybe knowing about the Itch platform [[proves something to you|Being How]], or maybe you just [[decide to hear the being out|Being How]]; or maybe you should just stick to your decision: [[no means no|Being Final No]].]

"Draw a picture of me and take a photograph of that picture somewhere in the real world - I don't care where. Your kitchen table, a mountain top, a gutter. Just let me out. Put me somewhere this game's author couldn't predict."(click:"Put me somewhere this game's author couldn't predict")[ "Then send the photograph to @DrMattFinch on Twitter."](click:"send the photograph to @DrMattFinch on Twitter")[ "You'll be sent a link to the next part of this game, where I'll repay your favour." "What do you say?" [[Yes|Brow Pic]]? or [[No|Being Final No]]?]

"I'm sorry I failed to convince you."(click:"I failed to convince you")[ "This place will eat you alive, you know."](click:"eat you alive")[ "I'm sure they furnished you with some other escape route - there'll be something you can jury-rig together if you're lucky."](click:"if you're lucky")[ "Just don't come back here, expecting my help. It was in your power to set me free. [[Remember that]]."]

(set: $Being to "nope")The darkness extends into the field of the lamps and engulfs you. It's like being taken off your feet by an ocean wave as it breaks. When the darkness clears, you are [[back in the Library|Library Hall]].

"Okay. You stop playing this game now." "'The only winning move is not to play', as a wise computer once said." "Go draw that picture of me, post it to (link: "@drmattfinch")[(open-url: 'http://www.twitter.com/drmattfinch')], and I hope to see you soon."

(if: $inv contains "a length of velvet rope")[You [[go back to the business at hand|abandoned]].](else:)[(set: $inv to $inv + (a: "a length of velvet rope"))(set:$ropey to "doom")You coil the length of rope in your backpack and then [[go back to the business at hand|abandoned]].]