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The Dewey System

Written by Iver P. Cooper

Kurt's expression was one of triumph, a triumph he carefully avoided giving voice to, however much he felt like shouting. It wouldn't do to give away his secret. He had only half-believed the stories about Grantville and its hoard of knowledge. But here it was—this book, this blessed book, told him where to find the riches he had always dreamed of finding.

And this treasure wasn't one of the common ilk, that could be found with the aid of the encyclopedias. Indeed, Kurt believed that the key information was available only in this single library book. Kurt had begrudged the time he had spent in the "library skills and etiquette" class, but no more. The skills had helped him find the book.

Soon, he would leave behind the noise of Grantville, and make his fortune.

But wait a moment. Everyone knew that Grantville was the Mecca of spies. That's why Kurt had done his own research, and not hired one of the "licensed researchers." They were all spies, of course. One of them was probably watching him right now. Kurt turned his head ever so slightly, and looked out of the corner of his eye, hoping to catch one in the act.

No one looking his way, huh? Well, that was suspicious. All those people sitting at that long table and not one of them was looking his way. Clearly, they were all spies, and had caught his movement just in time to evade detection.

Or were they? No matter. He already knew what he needed to know, and so it would do them no good to watch him further. It would take a few days to buy all the tools and maps he needed, and then he could forget the library.

Or could he? That book, that damn book. It could be a year before someone else read it. Or a month. Or even a day. Who knew what rivals he had for the treasure, or how many or few steps, they were behind him.

But if he took the book with him. . . . No, he couldn't. The library staff searched everyone before they left the building, and you couldn't take any books, or packages, or even a coat into the bathroom. Apparently, the library had suffered some losses before.

So he couldn't remove the book from the game. But there were only a few critical pages. If he found an isolated place in the stacks, one hidden from general view, and waited for the right moment, surely he could rip those pages out, and either effectively hide them on his person, or conceal them in some obvious trash and toss them into the library garbage can. It wasn't as though anyone searched the garbage!

He moved through the stacks, looking back to the reading area from time to time, to check the sight lines. Finally, he chose a strategic location. With his body hiding his actions as best as possible, he opened the book, and ever so slowly, to minimize the noise, started to make the tear. . . .

"May I help you?"

Kurt reacted as calmly as a cat whose tail has been stepped on. "Acch!" he cried. Once his pulse had slowed, he responded, still with his back turned to his tormentor. "No, I am fine."

But he sensed that he was still being watched. Finally, reluctantly, he turned. It was a middle-aged man; almost certainly, judging from his bad teeth, a down-timer.

"Do you need help? Perhaps in finding where to shelve that book? Its proper place is given by the ...