Justin - Chapter Eight
by Machelli
One of the large, wooden doors to the library slowly creaked open. Justin eased himself through and shut the door as quietly as he could. He had just finished dinner and was pretty sure that he did not want anyone to know where he was.
As he turned away from the door Justin realized the near impossibility of the task at hand. Rows upon rows of books shot upward all around him. The odds of finding something with the specific information that he needed were obviously stacked against him.
Justin turned on the lights, rationalizing that if he was caught he would look ten times guiltier with the lights off. He made his way to the immense card catalog, pulled open a drawer marked, "Ma - Mn" and began to flip through the cards, looking for the word "mining".
At the Library back in Connecticut there had been a computerized version of this. Justin had never used a card catalog such as the one he was using now before he came to Oregon and Miss Carten had had to show him how to use it. Justin was beginning to sorely miss the digital version as he continued his search for the "Mi" section.
At last he came upon a large chunk of cards with the word "mining" on them. The titles ranged from Mining Across the Globe to Mining, a World History. As Justin flipped through the title cards he came across a very promising book called Mining Facilities and Organizations in the Americas. He slid the card out of the collection and marked its spot. He didn't want to put it back in the wrong place.
Justin stepped back from the card catalog and looked at the paper rectangle in his hand. He looked at the number and realized that the book was going to be on the second "floor" of the room.
He made his way over to a ladder and began climbing.
There were a number of ladders in the library. Some bridged the gap between floors while others were attached to the top of the bookshelf by wheels and could slide along the wall in case someone needed to reach a book that was too high up. When Miss Carten hadn't been looking, Justin had climbed up to the top of one of the sliding ladders and had pushed off of the bookshelf. The ladder had coasted for quite some time before coming to a complete stop and Justin had gotten off a quarter of the room away from where he had started. The space between the top of the bookshelf and the next floor was large enough for him to crawl around in.
He stepped off of the ladder at the second floor and began to walk down the "sidewalk" that sprouted off from the wall. He found his book in record time. It had been just low enough on the bookshelf for him to reach without the aid of a ladder.
Justin sat down and leaned up against the wall as he opened Mining Facilities and Organizations in the Americas.
Roughly an hour later, the book was slammed shut. As it turned out, Mining Facilities was just an elaborate tour of every current mine in East, West, and South America. There had been no mention of the Evarb Plant at all and even if the plant had been mentioned it would have done Justin no good; there was not one map or set of blue prints in the entire book.
Justin marched back to the ladder and descended it quickly. He placed the title card back in its proper place and pulled out another, equally promising card whose partnered book, as Justin found out after a few minutes, was just as helpful as the first.
He slid the "Ma - Mn" drawer back into the card catalog and stepped back, surveying the letters, hoping to get an idea.
After a while he stepped back up to the set of drawers and pulled out the set of cards marked "Pa - Po". Perhaps there was a book called Past Mining Facilities of the Americas.
After a couple minutes of card flipping, Justin discovered that, while there was no book called Past Mining Facilities of the Americas, there was one titled Past and Present Mining Operations in the World. It was a stretch but it just might work.
Justin, card in hand, climbed back up the ladder to the second floor of the Library. This time his search was much longer and much higher. He found the book on the uppermost shelf of the second floor. It was extremely large and heavy and Justin thought that he was going to drop it three or four times before he got down from the sliding ladder. The book was old, dusty, leather-bound, had no pictures and had very small print.
Justin groaned.
He flipped the book over with a thud and opened it up to the Index. The pages were saturated in a dark yellow color of decay and seemed unnaturally heavy.
Justin was in the "E" section of the Index, looking for Evarb but he was having no such luck. The book had obviously been printed before the Production Plants were constructed. Maybe if he looked up Oregon. . .
It worked!
At long last, Justin had actually found something he was looking for. He opened up the musty book to the indicated page and began to read.
At several points the book skirted over the issue of a mine that, in Justin's mind, was probably the present-day Evarb plant. However, the book never came out and said, "there are tunnels into and out of the mine here, here, and here."
That's what Justin needed.
He just couldn't find it!
As Justin climbed back up the sliding ladder to replace the book, he happened to look up at the ceiling of the library. In the center of the ceiling there was a large, dome-shaped window, through which Justin would view the sky and clouds during his private lessons. Only now there were no clouds and the sky had turned a dark, velvety black.
What time was it? Eight o'clock? Nine o'clock?
Justin hurriedly shoved the heavy, leather-bound book back into the shelf and raced down the sliding ladder. He silently cursed himself for not wearing the watch he had brought from Connecticut.
After he put the title card back in the catalog drawer Justin turned off the lights and cautiously exited the library.
The next afternoon, Justin found himself in the Mess Hall, explaining the ordeal to Sam, Francis, and Greg.
"So you didn't find anything?" asked Sam, somewhat disappointed.
"Well, no," Justin admitted. "I found this one book that sort of mentioned a mine that could have been the Evarb Plant but they didn't talk about tunnels or anything."
Justin surveyed the less-than-happy faces that stared back at him.
"But it was just one night!" Justin said, trying to dismiss their apparent dissatisfaction. "I'll just go back today. It's not like there's some sort of time limit, right?"
However, as Justin was about to find out, there was.
On Wednesday of that week, as Justin was coming back from his nightly search in the Library, he chanced upon a room that he had not noticed before. As far as Justin could remember, the door to that particular room had always been closed and he had never felt the urge to open it.
But now the door was halfway open and an odd light was flickering from inside.
Justin stepped closer so he could see where the light was coming from.
There was a large, thin television mounted on the wall farthest from the door. Chairs and couches were set up in a semi-circle so every piece of furniture had a clear view of the screen. As Justin looked around he noticed several people sitting in the chairs, their backs to him. He recognized Miss Carten's curly hair and Mr. Neporae's straight posture. He thought he knew a few more people, like the cooks for instance, but that was about it.
Finally, Justin's gaze fell upon the television that seemed to be at the center of everyone's attention at the moment.
A lady with a maroon coat was talking to the camera in the manner of a news reporter. Justin leaned in farther, hoping to catch what she was saying.
". . st America declared today that they will be conducting a full scale investigation of the Evarb Production Plants on Saturday," stated the news lady. "Representatives of that country claim that the search, which was approved by David Evarb, is being performed due to the suspicion of weapons production in the Plants. However, Evarb made a point of denying all accusations, arguing that East America's paranoia is founded on little more than baseless rumors.
"As you can see, tempers are high and there is little doubt in anyone's mind that if things go awry we may have a war on our hands.
Justin backed away from the doorway, shocked.
A war? Between East and West America? Because of his father?
It couldn't be!
Hold on, he thought, I'm getting ahead of myself. That's only if they find something suspicious. But what if my dad is making guns? Would they destroy the Plant?
Justin decided that the best way to get a straight answer would be to confront Sam about the issue on Thursday.
It was a long time before Justin finally fell asleep.
The next day, at the Evarb Plant, after Justin had concluded his report on his progress with the blueprints (which was none), he decided to ask about weapons.
"So," he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Do you guys make. . . uh. . . guns?"
It hadn't come out exactly as he had imagined it would. The effect of his poorly chosen words was evident at the table.
Sam seemed to recoil in his seat slightly. Greg looked up slowly from the table and stared fixedly at Justin. It was Francis in the end who broke the silence.
"No," he said plainly.
Justin relaxed. But Francis wasn't done yet.
"We make parts of guns. The actual weapons are assembled elsewhere."
Justin felt his body tense back up again.
"But are they made in the Plant?" he asked. "Do you keep them here?"
This time it was Sam who answered.
"Yes. We do."
Shoot! thought Justin.
Sam cocked his head slightly and said, "Why do you ask?"
Justin tried to think of how to phrase the bad news but he finally decided that he couldn't mess it up more than the way in which he introduced the topic.
"Well. . ." he started. ". . East Americais going to inspect this place on Saturday."
Everyone seemed surprised. Even Francis' eyes grew slightly wider than normal.
"Why?" asked Greg.
Justin leaned over the table and brought his voice down to a whisper.
"They think you guys are making weapons!"
Sam, followed shortly by Greg and Francis leaned over the table as well.
"But we are," he said.
"Right," said Justin. "And who knows what they'll do when they find out about it."
A blanket of silence fell over the small group. No one really wanted to say anything because the reality of the situation was close to overwhelming.
Finally, after a couple of seconds that had felt like a couple of minutes, Sam spoke. His voice was hushed and quaking.
"What do you suppose they'll do if they find any?" he asked.
Once again, nobody seemed to want to talk. They all were thinking the same, horrific thought, which, after a while, was put into words by Francis.
"They'll probably destroy the place," he said, matter-of-factly.
Sam slowly turned his head to look at Justin. His eyes were shimmering, threatening to overflow.
"Justin," he seemed to plead. "You have to find a way out of here! They'll just move us to another plant or another job and we might not have the chance we've got here!"
Justin looked at the small group. All of them seemed to be staring back at him with some sort of evident dependence, however hard to perceive.
"Please!" Sam whispered, desperately.
"I'm trying as hard as I can," he replied.
Justin felt that Sam didn't understand how much time he had been spending in the Library, trying to find something. It had become as frustrating to him as it had to Sam, Greg, and Francis, perhaps even more so.
Justin stood up.
"As soon as I get home I'll look again," he said. "I've got to find something this time! I mean, how many different things can I look up? It has to be in one of them!"
Sam looked down at the table and nodded. "Right. ." he said, half-heartedly.
He doesn't believe me, Justin thought.
Do I believe me?
He walked away from the table with an odd feeling in his stomach.
He wasn't confident at all.
That night, before and after dinner, Justin was in the Library. As each hour went by, his lack of confidence intensified. He had searched almost every possible title he could think of, even re-checking books he had already read. Just as Justin was beginning to believe that he had gone through the entire alphabet and that no such book existed, a thought struck him.
What about "Evarb?"
Surely there had to be a few books on the subject, especially in his father's library!
Justin opened up the drawer marked "Em - Ez" and began to thumb through the note cards.
There were three books about Evarb - a surprisingly lesser amount than Justin had expected to find. To make matters worse, only one of the three books (Evarb Production Plants in West America's History) looked even remotely promising.
Justin took the note card out, closed the drawer and walked to the section of the Library that the card specified. Luckily it was on the first floor.
Justin pulled the book out of its shelf and sat down in a chair. The book was rather new and was very plain. It had a glossy, dark red cover with plain, black letters and a small picture of one of the Production Plants on the front. Justin opened it up and began to read.
Soon Justin realized that his last book, the one on which all his hopes had rested was, in fact, just as helpful as the first book he had looked up on the subject two days ago. Disheartened, he returned the book to its shelf and brought the note card back to the card catalog.
When he opened the "Em - Ez" drawer, Justin noticed something. The unmistakable edge of a small computer disk was protruding from under the card rack. Perhaps he hadn't seen it before because he had been so focused on the note card. Or perhaps he had knocked it loose when he had closed the drawer. Maybe it had something to do with the Production Plants. Maybe it was exactly what Justin was looking for.
He tried to get his fingers under it to pull it out but just as he thought he might be getting a good grip, Justin was interrupted by the voice of Miss Carten.
"Time for bed, Justin," she said sweetly.
He looked up, startled.
Miss Carten was standing in the doorway with Mr. Neporae behind her in the shadows, looking sideways at Justin.
"Come on dear, it's ten o'clock," she said as if that fact put the matter to rest.
Justin was beginning to have second thoughts about Miss Carten. She was becoming more and more intrusive every day. It was almost as if she had meant to keep him from getting at the computer disk.
Would she know if I took it? Justin thought. Maybe she wouldn't see me put it in my pocket from where she's standing. But I still need to get it out from under the card rack! Certainly she'd see that. I have to leave it here. But what if this is the thing I've been looking for? What if this disk has blueprints to the Plant on it? After all, it was in the "Evarb" drawer!
Darnit!
Justin stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally, after a moment or two, he slid the "Em - Ez" drawer back in its slot and slowly walked toward Miss Carten.
They walked back to Justin's room. Justin was in the front of the procession with Miss Carten closely behind him and Mr. Neporae trailing further back. Justin couldn't shake the idea that Mr. Neporae had been acting as "back up."
As Justin neared his room he began to wonder if the computer disk would still be in the drawer the next day.
As it turned out, Justin had no opportunity whatsoever to even look in the "Em - Ez" drawer during his private schooling. Miss Carten had constantly been right behind him, giving Justin the impression that he had better not try anything.
And so he was now in the helicopter on his way to the Evarb Plant with nothing to show for three days of blueprint hunting. The inspection was tomorrow, on Saturday and Justin had screwed up his only chance of allowing Sam to escape.
And Greg, and Francis, thought Justin. I shouldn't have forgotten them.
But why had he?
Perhaps it was because, to him, Sam was the only one who seemed to really want to get out of the Plant. After all, hadn't Greg tried to convince Justin not to help them? And what about Francis? He seemed indifferent to almost everything that was going on.
Why?
Justin sighed. The whole ordeal was like some sort of mental labyrinth. Just when he thought that the path was straight, he would come upon twenty thousand forks in the road.
All of a sudden the helicopter jolted to a stop.
They were at the Plant.
Justin slowly got out and walked reluctantly to the lobby door. As he walked down the brilliant white hallways his only thought was what am I going to say to them?
As Justin soon found out, the answer to the latter question was "not much."
The group took the news with a general feeling of hopelessness. Justin was surprised to see that even Francis had some degree of concern floating across his face.
After a few moments of silence, Justin decided that he could not bear it any more. He had to say something.
"Maybe they won't even see the guns," he suggested.
But that seemed to make matters worse. Sam looked up from his excellent view of the table and proceeded to make Justin feel many times guiltier.
"Of course they'll find them," he said definitely. "We make them in a big room! It's so obvious."
Justin found that, when it came time to leave, he wanted nothing more than to stay behind, even for just a few more minutes. He had known the group for about a week but he still felt closer to them than any of his friends back ho-
In Connecticut. .
Being a Friday, Justin's father flew to his house in the helicopter, leaving work earlier as usual. In his dad's presence, Justin felt that he could not show his true emotions as he watched the Evarb Plant grow smaller and smaller.
Somehow it seemed as if his father would not approve of it.
But why should I care if my father wouldn't approve? Justin thought. I don't know him or love him like a parent! He's more of a stranger to me than some lunatic off the street!
Justin looked at his father's relaxed figure in the seat in front of him.
And why don't you mind!? Justin thought or, more precisely, mentally screamed at his father. Your building is going to get blown to smithereens tomorrow and you can just sit there, laid back as can be! Why is that!? Why aren't you worried!? WHY DON'T YOU CARE!
"What?"
His father turned around in his seat to look at Justin.
Did I say that out loud? Justin thought.
"I'm sorry, I. . didn't quite hear you," his father said, politely.
Should I ask him? Justin wondered to himself. Should I tell him what I think about what he's doing? What I think about him?
. . . yes. . .
"Why don't you care?" Justin asked accusingly.
"Care?" his father said innocently. "About what?"
Justin looked at the man, wide-eyed with astonishment. "About tomorrow!" Justin reminded him.
"Oh, that," his father said un-importantly.
Oh, that? Oh, THAT!?
Justin couldn't believe what his dad had just said. Maybe if the East Americans were going to gas the place and kill all the Lunars Justin would have believed it but they were most likely going to bomb it! They were going to completely destroy the Plant! Such an act should be worthy of more than "Oh, that".
His father chuckled.
"Justin," he said as though he were speaking to a very small child. "They can't find anything. We're not making guns. Never have, never will."
Justin looked at his father with even wider eyes this time.
Was he lying? Justin thought. But if he was, then he should at least be a little worried.
"It's rather hard to find something that isn't there. Wouldn't you agree, Justin?"
Justin nodded. And as he did that, he came to a single conclusion.
His father was absolutely crazy!
Once in his room, Justin snatched the voice drafter off of his desk and collapsed on his bed. He wanted to say something. Perhaps a letter to Jeff. .
Justin pressed the "capture" button and began to talk.
"Hi Jeff," he started. "It's me again. I was wondering if you heard all of this stuff about East America coming over here to search my dad's Plants. Can you believe that? I had no idea that our two countries were so. ."
He paused, searching for the proper words.
". . So afraid of each other. Anyway, I'm looking forward to your reply. Talk to you soon."
Justin pressed "stop capture".
The message seemed incomplete. He had wanted to tell Jeff everything but couldn't for fear of ensnaring his friend in the same mess in which he was currently involved.
Justin twirled the voice drafter around in his hand.
No one had taken the fake journal entry out of the machine. It must be safe.
Justin pressed "capture", said, "record date", and began to talk.
"Why can I not get a straight answer from anybody?" he started. "First Francis tells me that the Plant makes guns, then my dad tells me they don't. Of course, that's no big surprise. I wouldn't put it past him to lie to me or anybody else for that matter. And why doesn't he care that East America is going to find the weapons? Did he hide them? Where would he hide them? He couldn't just shove 'em in the closet. He knows they're going to look everywhere. What if I never get to see Sam again? Or Greg or Francis? (not that they would care to see me after what I did to them.) How come I couldn't find anything in the Library with bluep-"
Justin stopped. It was as if his brain had slapped him in the forehead.
The computer disk!
He had forgotten all about it!
Justin quickly pressed "stop capture" and dashed out of his room, toward the library. He shoved open the heavy library door and ran to the card catalog. Justin yanked the "Em - Ez" shelf out and peered inside, expectantly.
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