The book that always was (Rhiii! Rhiiii!)

[Anonymous]

It was just another passing day in the Milky Way. The planets orbited their suns, the moons orbited their planets, and stars burned and twinkled with a glowing light. All was peaceful in space, there were no sounds, no technical wars, and everything just seemed beautiful. Something was surely off though in the big galactic picture. Speeding amongst some asteroids was an object that clearly wasn’t an asteroid. It was much smaller for that matter…much smaller.

It was also square and flat, which really meant it was something all together different from an asteroid.

It was a book.

Rough, leathery cover, two strange twisting symbols etched into the book itself give it a mysterious, alien appearance. Though the rest of the book looks to be old, those two symbols appear to be as new and bright as a freshly made spaceship.

Curious really.

The book simply breaks off from the asteroid group after they shift and it’s knocked away. Perhaps accidentally or perhaps a greater force is driving this book. It enters a strange solar system, one inhabited by many people of many different races everywhere. It passes by a few freight ships, unnoticed on sensors and radar for some reason. A passing ship is struck with the book; it doesn’t make it through the shields, so it is deflected off and goes careening through the darkness toward a large floating space platform. It doesn’t seem complete though, people seem to be still building it and putting it together still.

Thunk.

The book slams flat against the side of the large floating platform, right near the middle actually. The book slowly slides downwards until it reached an airlock, where a ship just happens to be readying to dock. The book is caught between the ship’s airlock and the air lock of the platform. Supplies and what not are transported via this ship. What luck! Decontamination and de-pressurization begin, and it’s not long before the old book is on the floor, waiting expectantly. A cart suddenly wheels over the book, not running it over, but just about as crates are offloaded. A passing supervisor yells at his workers, picking the book up and shaking it furiously as he screams insults for not being more careful. The book is placed with the rest of the medical research texts and information.

None of them realize that it’s the only book going to the library, while data storage chips and what not have replaced the need for actual books. Once inside the library, the book is deposited at the front desk, and soon finds its way into a display case. It doesn’t show up on sensor scans, it’s not listed in any of the manifests. It’s just there. However, no one has wanted to study it. It seems to be ignored for years, just collecting dust. People somewhat know it exists, it gets dusted once in a while, but no one seems to want it.

It’s waiting.

Waiting for the right person, the right time, and the right everything. Conditions aren’t appropriate yet. It has to wait. No one fits the bill. Many years pass and yet…the book just gets to stay there. People seem to remember it a bit more, some show interest in reading it, but none of them ever dare to take to it.

It’s not for them.

They don’t know this, but that…feeling that they don’t need to look at the book isn’t coming from inside them. It’s coming from the book.  It knows who it wants. It knows who it needs. None of them even come close. The people who do need it, who would want it, they will feel the pull when the pass by it. They will feel the need to take the book for whatever reason they can muster.

When they get it, they’ll feel like this book has belonged to them for the longest time. The bait was in the trap…now the trap had waited several hundred years for its victim. Things were going to be interesting on TRIM.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Jordan sighed tiredly as she made her way toward the library, arms filled with various data chips and discs that she had checked out a day ago to peruse at her own speed. Which was pretty speedy since she prided herself on being able to absorb information at a relatively fast pace, which was probably due to the fact that she devoted almost every waking moment to her work. Almost. After all, she still had to eat, shower, and socialize! Otherwise she'd starve, go stinky, and go insane. That wasn't conducive to productivity at all.

Last night she'd only gotten about two hours of sleep, and it showed. There were gray circles under her golden brown eyes, which were bloodshot, and her red-gold hair was pulled up into a hasty and messy bun, a few loose locks tumbling free to fall over her shoulders and down her back. Her hair was still damp, and if she hadn't been wearing a rumpled labcoat over her clothes, one might have noticed that they were also a little damp in patches. She'd pretty much jumped out of the shower and tossed on some clothes with only minimal drying, so in a hurry was she.

Yawning as she walked through the library doors, which slid open automatically to permit entrance, she headed back toward the shelves to return the data to their respective places. Yet as she approached the shelves and started sleepily filing things away--and picking out some new material to set down on a nearby table--for some reason, she wasn't quite sure why, but something made her stop. Something told her she might find what she was looking for if she visited the section in the back, though she had been keen on starting in the front and gradually working her way back when it came to exploring the data.

Pushing her glasses up further on her freckled nose, she tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully. She still hadn't put all the discs away, but...her instincts rarely ever failed her, and they were nagging at her consistently now in an almost irritating fashion. The discs could wait, right? Turning and dumping them onto the table, just to the right of the new materials she'd pulled, she headed away from the table and down the aisle toward the shelves in the back.

Something told her to turn to the right, and so she did, heading down that aisle. There was no one else in the library, it was completely silent, yet she still felt like she was being called. Even stranger was that, at this moment, it seemed perfectly normal and not at all spooky. Her eyes scanned the shelves, reading the labels for anything of interest--and then she abruptly stopped when they landed on the one item that was completely out of place.

An old, beaten up, dusty book.

Her eyebrows raised. A book? She hadn't seen a book in...well...forever . What was a book doing here among all the discs and data? If it was important, why hadn't the contents been put onto a disc? Maybe people had just been too lazy? But it looked so old and frail. That seemed a bit irresponsible.

Frowning, curiosity taking over, she reached out and carefully slid the book from its place, discs in their cases falling over to the side as the thing that propped them up was removed. She had to hold it in both hands as it was rather large and a little heavy, and she turned it over to see if it said anything on the back since it didn't have anything on the front. Strange. It was unmarked. Turning it back over, she propped it up against her arm before, finally, she flipped open the cover and turned to the first page.

[Anonymous]

It would take weeks, several of them really, but Jordan would find the book to be...well mysterious really. Every time she finished a page, the next one would instantly start writing itself. Slowly, carefully, the words would draw themselves in a strange cursive language, it looked gentle, inviting, easy on the eyes. However, for Jordan, she would not know the language itself. At least, that's what her instincts might tell her. They meant something though, they were a psychic spell basically, and she was reading each one, even though she didn't truly know what they meant.

Soon Jordan would find herself making exceptions to go back and read the book. It would be an obsession, always there was a pull, a gentle tug to come back and open the book. Of course, she would no doubt forget to even eat, she would become so engrossed in the book, reading each page one at a time, each word and moving on.

A month however would fly by and she would find herself getting close to the edge. There was desperation though to finish the book. Thoughts of actually putting the book down or doing something else would leave her mind, and replaced by the animalistic need and thirst for knowledge. Event he book was in a hurry. This was a person it would be compatible with, so it wanted to get this over and done with. It had never been to this part of the universe, and it had ended up here rather accidentally.

Now...the final page.

When Jordan finished reading the page, suddenly the book began to glow and shimmer, slowly becoming translucent and then simply fading into nothingness.

"What is this place?" The voice was gentle, curious, filled with life. It was the voice of a young man, standing at the foot of Jordan's bed. It was Than'layne, the true form of the book itself. Let's hope Jordan reacted well, as Than'layne was currently devoid of clothing. Not that he had anything to feel ashamed about, or had a concept of shame for that matter.

Slowly he extended a hand to touch the bed. What was this? His last owner didn't have this...they slept in the wall...in some sort of slime. It never made much sense to him, sleeping really, but he did not question what the sentient humanoids did anymore, not since his first owner.

"Who are you? I am Than'layne. I was the book you read." Than'layne began to look around, wandering around the room to touch and feel things. That was always an interesting thing to do. Textures were so strange, soft, rough, bumpy, hot, cold, sharp, dull, and so on and so forth. He liked the feel of slick things. They were always neat.

"I'm glad you freed me. I think I spent too much time as the book. Do you people use time? What are your standard units of time? My last owner used Quantars, Seccors, and Tisserlans to measure time. I have no idea how to convert it to your time though. I used to use distance, that was always better, but saying half past a Jinnar wasn't very effective." Talkative little thing wasn't he? Why wouldn't he? He hadn't talked to someone in quite a long while, at least fifty tepiars, which was about one hundred and fifty years on the standard Lunar Calendar used on Earth.

"Will you answer my questions? I need to have more knowledge."