My Library

(That’s our personal space.) He gestured proudly. (Best in the city.) I stared at the drawing. (You go into those?) He nodded. (Only when the surge takes place. They’re this big across the middle.) He indicated a width of about two feet with his arms. He was about to continue when there was a sound like thunder in the distance and the floor began to rock. Immediately, everyone in the room turned and hurried out through exits in the back. The room clerk ran to join them. (That’s the surge starting up,) he called over his shoulder. (I suppose that’s what you came to witness, but you better get to your personal space fast.) Then the room was empty and I tried to keep my footing as the floor heaved rhythmically. I staggered over to the entrance as the roar grew louder. In the distance and approaching fast was a mighty wave, not water but in the ground itself, lifting buildings and streets into a tumbling flotsam hundreds of feet high. Behind the first wave, I could see a second and a third wave, each larger than the first. There may have been more, but I didn’t have a chance to find out, as the first wave came surging into where I was, and the building lifted and tumbled, me in it, bouncing, rolling, twisting, jarring … … desperately, I tried to focus, ident what? ident … ident Z55/LOU … Z-55/LOU … reach and stretch, reach and stretch … closed tightly … tightly … CLICK! It was quiet, the pounding had stopped. I tried to keep from shaking long enough to open. I finally made it. I was in front of Z55/LOU, and I got a percept of his polite expectation. I smoothed somewhat. (That’s home for you? Where you were before starting human?) He plied. (It’s not Kentucky.) (And you’re going back there?) Z-55/LOU opened wide. He glowed very brightly, almost white.