Chương 9: The Greenhouse of Forgotten Plants

Bart sat at his desk, staring into his Beaumont Public Library mug. He had spent the last hour trying to research the hidden metal door and Keeper #4, 091. Albert had absolutely refused to answer any more questions, instead choosing to sweep the same spot of clean stone over and over again. When Bart tried to ask the System, the blue screen simply flashed: ACCESS RESTRICTED. KEEPER RANK INSUFFICIENT. Bart had not forgotten the hidden vault. He knew something terrible had happened in the Archive before he arrived.

But until he could raise the Archive's rank, he had no way to force that door open or force the System to give him answers. To do that, he needed to restore more sections. He needed to work. And to work, he needed a clear head. Bart took a small sip of his green tea. It still tasted like grass.

"I cannot do this anymore," Bart said softly. He put the mug down and looked up at the empty air.

"System. I need real coffee. How do I get coffee beans?" The blue System screen popped up at once. It chimed with a happy, cooperative sound. SYSTEM QUERY RECEIVED User has requested: Caffeine (Dark Roast). NEW QUEST AVAILABLE: Botanical Assets Target: The Guide to Forgotten Seeds. Location: The Greenhouse of Forgotten Plants. Reward: Real Coffee Beans. Do you accept? Bart did not even blink.

"Yes." As soon as he spoke, a new door materialized a few feet away from his desk. It was not the plain white bathroom door. This door was made of heavy green metal and had thick, dirty glass panels. Bart stood up. His lower back popped loudly. Gregor looked up from where he was polishing his stolen silver coins.

"Are we going out, boss?"

"Yes, Gregor," Bart said, walking toward the green door.

"We are going on a quest for the most important item in the universe." Gregor jumped up.

"A magic sword?"

"Better," Bart said. Bart reached for the heavy brass handle. Beside the door stood a rusted umbrella stand containing Gregor's confiscated iron dagger. Gregor happily retrieved it and spun it in his hand.

"The Archive returns checked weapons when employees leave its jurisdiction," Bart observed.

"Good to know." Bart pushed the heavy green door open. A wave of hot, wet air hit their faces. It smelled like rich, dark dirt, rotting leaves, and heavy rain like being deep in the Amazon forest. They stepped through, and the metal door slammed shut behind them with a heavy metallic boom, vanishing instantly into the mist. They were standing inside a massive, sprawling glass building. Tall, thick vines wrapped tightly around rusted iron beams holding up a vaulted glass roof.

The sun shone brightly through the dirty panes. Giant green leaves and strange, colorful flowers grew wild over cracked stone paths.

"Is this a magic forest?" Gregor whispered, looking around, his dagger drawn. Bart held up his hand. He waited for the blue System screen to appear. He waited for the Archive to tell him the rules of this new section. Nothing happened.

"System status," Bart said. The air remained empty. He tried again, putting the full, heavy weight of his Library Voice behind the words.

"Keeper authority: identify this location." Nothing. No bells rang. No magic flashed. Bart felt a sudden, familiar ache settle deep into his lower spine. The air felt normal. The subtle hum of the Archive's power was completely gone.

"Gregor," Bart said, rubbing his back.

"The Archive has no jurisdiction here. Outside its walls, I am just a regular man with a bad back."

"Oh," Gregor said, blinking. Then he spun his dagger again.

"Do not worry, boss. I still have my knife. And my fast walking." Bart smiled a little.

"Thank you. Let us find the book." The cracked stone path in front of them quickly split into three different directions. The greenhouse was a maze of overgrown flora. Rusted metal signs stood at the head of each branching path, barely visible through the thick vines. Bart wiped the moss off the signs. FLOWERING PLANTS … 583 USEFUL PLANTS…581. 6 EXTINCT SPECIES — CLASSIFICATION WITHDRAWN Bart adjusted his glasses and studied them.

"Dewey Decimal," he muttered.

"They are using the old classification system."

"Which way, boss?" Gregor asked, eyeing a massive purple flower that seemed to be panting like a dog.

"Forgotten seeds would not be filed under standard gardening," Bart said.

"They would be classified by preservation status." Gregor stared at him.

"Boss, I understood none of that."

"Take the third path," Bart said. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. They moved carefully down the EXTINCT SPECIES aisle. It did not take long for Bart to realize why the plants had been forgotten. They were terrifying.

"Stop, boss," Gregor whispered, throwing his arm out. Bart froze. An inch from his shin was a thin, pale green vine stretched tightly across the path.

"Tripvine," Gregor said. The thief knelt down, his hands moving with incredible speed and precision. He slipped his dagger under the root, pinned it to the dirt, and carefully stepped over.

"It is connected to those fat yellow mushrooms on the wall. Step on the vine, and they shoot poison spores in your face. Classic goblin trap, just made of salad." Bart carefully stepped over the vine.

"Good eye, Gregor." Further down, the path was completely blocked by a massive, glowing blue lotus. Its petals were as tall as Bart, tightly closed, blocking the narrow walkway. A thick, thorny stem pulsed like a heartbeat.

"I can cut it," Gregor offered, raising his knife.

"No," Bart said, noticing a rusted brass plaque buried in the dirt near its roots. The English name was completely scratched out, but the scientific classification remained barely visible. Bart wiped away the grime. The flower trembled, its thorns extending as if sensing a threat.

"It is a password lock," Bart realized. He adjusted his glasses and read the Latin clearly and confidently.

"Somnus Aeternus." The glowing blue lotus shuddered. With a soft sigh, its massive petals folded backward, clearing the path perfectly. Gregor stared at Bart with wide eyes.

"You speak plant magic?"

"I speak librarian," Bart said.

"Keep moving." A few minutes later, they encountered a cluster of massive, dark red flytraps. The plants were the size of armchairs, their jagged green teeth dripping with a foul-smelling acid that hissed as it hit the stone.

"I have this," Gregor said, taking the lead again. He pulled a single copper coin from his pouch and threw it high into the air, bouncing it off a glass pane on the far right side of the aisle. Clink. All four giant flytraps whipped their heads toward the sound, snapping their jaws blindly at the glass.

"Go, go, go!" Gregor hissed. They scurried past the distracted carnivorous plants and burst through a thick wall of hanging weeping willow branches. In the very center of the greenhouse, the path opened into a wide, circular clearing. In the middle of the circle was a clean white stone table. Sitting perfectly on the table was a thick book bound in dark green leather. Bart stepped forward to grab it.

"I would not touch that, if I were you," a calm, smooth voice said. Bart stopped. Gregor instantly dropped into a crouch, his dagger raised. A man stepped out from behind a wall of thick vines on the opposite side of the table. He did not look like a wizard or a king. He was tall, thin, and wore a perfectly clean gray suit. He had short, neat hair and wore pristine white cotton gloves on his hands. As the man moved, a silver object caught the light, hanging from a chain beneath his collar. Bart squinted.

It was a broken metal key. Its jagged teeth perfectly matched the symbol stamped into Bart's brass Keeper seal.

"Where did you get that key?" Bart asked. The Curator touched the broken metal lightly.

"From someone who understood that certain doors should remain closed."

"Keeper #4, 091?" Bart asked, his voice steady. The Curator's expression did not change.

"You are not ready for that answer. I am The Curator. And you are the new Keeper. I heard the Infinite Archive finally found a new manager."

"You know about the Archive," Bart said.

"Of course," The Curator said. He looked at the green book on the stone table with deep disgust.

"A terrible, reckless place. The Archive collects everything and leaves it out on open shelves. You let anyone with a card read the secrets of the universe. You think this book belongs in a library? It belongs in a vault."

"That is the point of a library," Bart said.

"That guide," The Curator said, pointing a gloved finger at the book, "contains the cultivation secrets of the Widow Vine. A single seed can cover a city in three days. Its roots drink blood instead of water. The masses cannot be trusted with it." Bart looked at the heavy green book.

"Then it belongs in a restricted collection."

"A restricted collection?" The Curator glanced mockingly at Bart.

"You do not possess one." Bart held his gaze.

"Then I will build one." The Curator gave a thin, cold smile.

"Eventually, someone always finds the key. That is the nature of a locked door."

"That does not mean you erase the knowledge," Bart argued.

"Tell that to the first city the vine consumes," The Curator replied.

"I find dangerous knowledge, Keeper, and I bury it in a dark box where no one can ever find it. It is the only way to keep the universe safe." Bart remembered parents back in Beaumont demanding that perfectly harmless books be removed from the library because a single page had frightened them. He also remembered rare, fragile historical collections kept safely behind locked doors because careless handling could destroy them. Access required responsibility. But hiding knowledge forever was not librarianship.

It was a burial.

"Dangerous books need rules," Bart said firmly.

"Not graves." The Curator sighed.

"You are just like the old Keepers. Foolish. I will take the book now. And since you have no magic here, you cannot stop me." The man in the gray suit took a step toward the stone table. As he did, a tiny, almost invisible thread of black dust slipped from beneath his white glove and drifted invisibly into the pages of the green book. His eyes flicked slightly toward the shadows on Bart's left. The Curator took a subtle half-step away from the table. The green book suddenly vanished from the stone surface.

"Looking for this?" Gregor shouted from the other side of the clearing. The thief was balancing perfectly on top of a crumbling stone archway. He held the green book high in his hand, grinning a huge, missing-tooth smile. While Bart and The Curator had been talking, Gregor had used his thief skills to scale the trellis and flank them entirely.

"Run, boss!" Gregor yelled. Gregor threw the heavy book through the air in a perfect arc. Bart caught it against his chest.

"You little rat," The Curator snapped, stepping forward. Bart did not wait. His bad back flared with pain, but he spun around and sprinted down the aisle as fast as he could. Gregor jumped down from the archway and did the fast walking right beside him. They reached the end of the dirt path, but there was only a wall of thick vines.

"Quest exit!" Bart shouted desperately. Nothing happened. Gregor glanced back over his shoulder.

"Ask more politely, boss!" Bart gritted his teeth.

"Please provide the quest exit!" A flash of green light pierced the mist. The heavy metal door flickered back into existence right in front of them. Bart slammed his shoulder into it, pushing it open. He threw himself and the green book through the frame. Gregor dove in right after him. The Curator stood alone in the quiet, green clearing. He watched the spot where the metal door had vanished. He did not chase them, yell or pull a weapon from his jacket. Instead, he pulled off his right white cotton glove.

A small, shriveled black seed had been resting in the center of his palm when Bart first arrived. Now, his bare palm was completely empty. Somewhere on the other side of reality, a faint, sickly green stain was beginning to spread across the leather cover of the stolen botanical guide. The Curator smiled. He had let the thief sneak past him. He had wanted them to take it, because he could not bypass the Archive's defenses himself.

The new Keeper was going to carry the infection directly into the heart of the library and formally process it into the System. Once placed in the Intake Tray, the black seed would wake up. It would be hungry for paper, binding thread, ink, and index cards. It would build itself a terrifying new body out of the Archive's own materials.

"Catalog it carefully, Keeper," the Curator whispered to the empty greenhouse.