Chương 5: The Employee Handbook

Bart sat behind his brand new wooden desk. He ran his hand over the smooth, dark wood. It felt a bit great and respectable. He placed his plastic folding chair right behind it, adjusted his glasses, and sighed with deep satisfaction. For the first time since a city bus had decided to turn him into a statistic, Bart felt like he was back in control. Across the desk, Gregor the Thief stood holding a small bag of silver coins, looking completely out of place.

He stared at the floating shelves, the upside-down marble stairs, and the dark space beyond.

"So," Gregor said slowly, his voice echoing in the vast, empty room.

"I live here now?"

"You work here now," Bart corrected, opening the middle drawer of his new desk. It slid open smoothly with a satisfying click.

"And your workspace is technically the entire multiverse, starting with whatever is on the other side of that white bathroom door." Before Gregor could panic, Albert the skeleton marched over. He had tucked his wooden broom under one arm. In his bony hands, he carried a towering stack of thick, heavy books bound in dark leather. The stack was so tall that it blocked Albert's empty eye sockets. He walked up to Gregor's side and let go. THUD.

The heavy stack of books slammed onto the stone floor, kicking up a small cloud of dust and nearly making Gregor jump out of his boots.

"Orientation time," Albert announced cheerfully, his jawbone clicking. Gregor looked down at the massive stack. The book on top had words pressed into the leather cover in faded gold letters. Albert patted the dusty cover.

"Behold, the Infinite Archive Employee Guide," the skeleton announced proudly.

"Volume 1 of 847." Gregor stared at the massive stack. He looked up at Albert and then at Bart.

"There are 847 volumes?" Gregor asked, his voice cracking"So far," Albert replied smoothly.

"We are currently missing Volumes 42 through 110 due to a minor plumbing accident in the third era, but Volume 1 covers all the basics." Gregor pointed a shaking finger at the pile.

"I have to read all of these before I can go steal …I mean, fetch paper?"

"Of course not, Junior Helper," Bart said, leaning back in his plastic chair and crossing his arms.

"You can read them on your lunch break. For now, Albert will give you the important highlights." Albert cleared his throat which made a dry, rattling sound and flipped open Volume 1.

"Rule Number One of the Archive," Albert read, his bony finger tapping a page.

"Proper document handling. All items retrieved from the multiverse must be classified, cataloged, and placed in the correct section. For example, your bounty poster is currently holding down the fort in the Crime Section. If you bring back a recipe, it goes to the Cooking Wing. If you bring back a love letter, it goes to the Romance Wing." Gregor frowned.

"Romance Wing?"

"Yes," Albert said, nodding his skull.

"Though we must warn you, the Romance Wing is strictly off-limits after dark. The books there are very dramatic, and they tend to start crying if you walk past too loudly." Gregor slowly backed away from the stack of books.

"I think I liked stealing pigs better. At least pigs don't have volumes and wings."

"Nonsense," Bart said, opening an empty folder on his desk.

"Work builds character. Is there anything in there about late fees, Albert?" This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Albert turned the page, his expression looking surprisingly stern for a skeleton.

"Ah, yes. The Late Fee Policy. This is very important, Gregor. If a visitor borrows an item from the Archive be they a human king, an elf wizard, or a wandering demon they must return it on time."

"And if they don't?" Gregor asked, getting curious despite himself.

"If they are late," Albert said softly, "the Archive takes something of equal value. Last century, a dark lord kept a book on potion making for three hundred years past the due date. The Archive took his left hand and his ability to taste chocolate." Gregor swallowed hard.

"Okay. No keeping archive books. Got it."

"Next is the Cataloging System," Albert continued, flipping another twenty pages at once.

"Every piece of writing has a magical frequency. When you step through the staff restroom door, your job is to search for knowledge. If you find a map, a diary, a legal contract, or even a grocery list written on the back of a napkin, you bring it home."

"A grocery list?" Gregor blinked.

"Why would you want a grocery list?"

"Because,"Albert said,, "someone wrote it down. It is a record of existence. Everything that gets written becomes part of history. When you bring back a grocery list, the Archive doesn't just get a piece of paper; it gets the memory of what people ate, how much bread cost in that world, and how they lived. Every scrap matters." Gregor looked down at his boots. He had spent his whole life thinking paper was just something you used to wrap fish.

The idea that a simple shopping list could build a room in a cosmic library blew his brain a little bit.

"Alright," Gregor muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I get it. Find writing. Don't read romance books. Don't steal the books or be late with em. Bring them back to the boss."

"Very good," Albert said, closing Volume 1 with a loud snap.

"Now for Disciplinary Procedures." Gregor stiffened.

"Disciplinary procedures?"

"If you lose a book," Albert explained, "the Archive will temporarily reassign your soul to filing duty in the basement for four hundred years. But don't worry! That is only for major mistakes."

"What about minor mistakes?" Gregor asked, his voice squeaking.

"Like trying to steal the coins," Bart added smoothly, pointing a finger at Gregor's small cloth bag. Gregor quickly zipped his bag shut and took a step back.

"I am an honest worker! The boss said "room and board!"

"Relax, Gregor," Bart said with a tiny, amused smile.

"I know a good worker when I see one. you brought back our first official section. You are doing fine." Gregor let out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. He puffed out his chest just a little bit.

"Yeah? Well... I'm a professional."

"Indeed," Albert said. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, standard-issue cloth satchel and a wooden clipboard with a metal clip. He handed them to Gregor.

"Your field gear, Junior Helper. Inside the satchel, you will find a spare pencil, a small eraser, and a sack lunch." Gregor opened the satchel. Inside was a squished turkey sandwich wrapped in wax paper and an apple. Albert said.

"Employee benefits based on keepers preferences." Gregor looked at Bart. The skinny human in the green sweater was already busy organizing a stack of blank folders on his new desk, looking every bit like a man who belonged behind a counter. Gregor felt something strange in his chest. For years, people had chased him, called him rat-trash, and locked him in dungeons. No one had ever given him a job, let alone a sack lunch.

"Thanks, boss," Gregor mumbled, putting the satchel over his shoulder. Bart handed Gregor the rusty portal key"Don't mention it," Bart said without looking up.

"Now, your shift is starting. Go to the bathroom door, turn the key, and let's see what else is out there in the multiverse." Gregor walked over to the plain white door standing in the middle of the empty space. The heavy block of wood still hung from the doorknob, reading STAFF RESTROOM. He pulled the rusty key from his pocket, slid it into the lock, and turned it. Whoosh. Gurgle. The door popped open. Instead of a goblin cave, this time the door opened into a high stone hallway lit by flickering torches.

Through the open frame, Gregor could hear the faint sound of hushed voices and heavy footsteps.

"Where does this one go?" Gregor asked, peering through.

"Looks like a royal palace or an ancient archive," Bart called out from his desk.

"Try not to get caught. And remember, we need non fiction if possible as that was his favourite!" Gregor, confused about non fiction, adjusted his satchel, gripped his clipboard, and stepped through the door. The door slammed shut behind him with the familiar sound of a toilet flushing, leaving Bart and Albert alone in the quiet, floating expanse of the Archive. Bart leaned back in his plastic chair. He looked at his new desk, his new crime shelf, and the empty space waiting to be filled.

"Well, Albert," Bart said, folding his hands over his stomach.

"Who do you think he's going to annoy first?" Albert picked up his broom and began sweeping a phantom speck of dust off the stone floor.

"Knowing his previous record, sir? Probably a king."