Memory Files: Part 1 of 3

Memory File #182… now playing…

Silence is broken by the whir of a fan. It’s as loud as thunder, thrumming to life in my ears. Gears creak and groan throughout my body. As though I’m burning.

Then, the world clicks into place, and I am on my feet with my eyes wide open.

The library is beautiful at dawn. The tangerine light bleeds through the high-up windows and bathes the books in a warm glow. Dust dances between the shelves beneath beams of light.

I reach toward the back of my head and wrap metal fingers around a wire. I tear the plug from my skull. Blue light flickers from behind my eyes. I blink until it goes away. My mouth creaks open.

“I am LIA, a Library Intelligence Android. How may I help you today?”

The message plays through gritted teeth as I examine the schedule for today, May 22nd, 2042.

I step off my charging port, and forward towards the front desk. The keys are in the drawer to the left, as always. The Head Librarian had hooked them onto a dolphin keychain. It was old, presumably from before they went extinct.

The keys jingle merrily as I unlock the front entrance. I flip the sign, so that it reads “open” from the outside, then I flick a switch, and the fluorescent lights blink to life. The parking lot is empty, so I take a moment to peer up at the sky.

The sun peeks over fields of wheat. It spills over the horizon like a cracked egg, orange and vibrant. Just as I’m about to turn away, I catch my reflection.

I’m not human. I’m made of a metal resistant to the suns light. There are two hollow pits where my eyes should be, and a smile plastered on my face.

I wince, and push myself away from the door. The real librarians will be arriving soon. In the meanwhile, I will dust shelves, check in books, and return them to their proper place.

The Georgian Public Library is small, with only three, closeknit rooms total. You could hear someone whispering from one end of the place to the other.

Books made up more of the libraries structure than the walls did. Shelves leaned haphazardly against one another, stuffed full of brick-like spines. At times, I feared they would burst, but the head librarian waved away my apprehensions.

I walk, sandwiched between two shelves. I’d feel safer here than in a bomb shelter, with thousands of pages to protect me from fire, flood, and fury.

As I dust the shelves, and return books to their proper places, I want nothing more than to crack one open, and to escape into the worlds inside. But I had no reason to. And what would the Head Librarian do if she caught me shirking my duty? Besides, I shrewd voice whispers into my ear, who’s to say I’d understand the intricacies of human emotion anyhow? Even despite my perfect memory and immortal body, they’ve got something I’ll never have…

Gears grind in my head. The closest I’ll ever get to a migraine. The world spins slowly beneath me, like I can feel the Earth turning.

I set down the duster and return to the front desk. No one has arrived yet. The sun is now firmly in the sky, and fluffy white clouds coil over the wheat fields. I turn my attention to the pile of books waiting to be checked in.

My internal clock ticks. I can’t help but count the seconds as they pass by. A robot should not be concerned with the passing of time, but as minutes slip through my fingers, a feeling unfamiliar to me wells up inside my chest.

I begin to move faster. I stop being careful. Each book crashes into the cart, and I have to catch it before it rolls away.

Finally, with one particularly hefty throw, and one particularly heavy book, I knock the cart over. It clatters to the ground, the books spill across the carpet. I scramble to the floor. Graceless as a frightened doe. Any minute, the Head Librarian could come storming through the door. What would she say, if she found me in such a state?

My arm quakes as it rights the cart. I stack the books on top of it. See? Not so bad. I tell myself. But my fan is still buzzing with life, like an angered beehive. My system might fry.

And would that be a relief? I would return to the silence that my charging port brings me, and be rid of these horrible feelings I’m not meant to have.

But what of the sunrise? Will it still be there if I’m not here to greet it?

The thought troubles me more than I care to admit. I prop myself up using the counter, and clamber to my feet.

Just as I do so, there is a violent flash of light. Like fire, searing the library. It is not the gentle caress of the sun. Instead, it’s lightning striking the sea.

Before my system can even process the occurrence, it is over. The library remains unchanged, as though nothing had happened at all.

Could I be broken? I wonder, clutching a hand to my chest. I duck my head and heave an artificial breath. Where is the Head Librarian?

I squeeze my eyes shut, like I’m holding back tears, then force myself to look up at the door.

The parking lot is empty. The sky is gray. It begins to rain, causing the whole building to shudder. But I’m prepared to wait for someone, anyone to arrive.

No one does.