Bookworm Hienrichs stepped into the Records room of City Hall, and immediately made for the Writer. The automaton had been repaired, as mysteriously as it had been attacked, and had thankfully begun producing pages again, pages that she read again and again, looking for clues, for direction, for hope. She flipped the pages over.
‘Three new pages…’ She immediately began reading, frowning at its style of writing. It definitely seemed as if they were nearing the beginning…
And then there it was, on the second page.
They were such joyous people, full of hope and love, and had been looking forward to attending the Brunel Hall Christmas gathering earlier that day.
“Tomorrow?” she said softly in dismay. “It’s tomorrow?” She read through the rest of the new material quickly, then sat down at the small desk, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. ‘How do we stop this?’ she thought desperately. ‘How do we stop this?’
The Van Creed building was obviously the center of it all. Indeed, hadn’t she just started hearing whispers that it was occupied again? Suddenly, she took her hands from her head, staring straight ahead. The Van Creed people didn’t know her–she’d had no dealings with them, positive or, more importantly, negative. If she went there, and presented herself to them in a calm, neutral manner, would they be willing to talk with her? Could she possibly convince them to stop what they were doing?
‘Heh. And if I calmly, neutrally stuck my head into a lion’s mouth, would I then be able to convince it not to bite down?’ she thought wryly. Still, it seemed worth considering the attempt…
‘But I’d also better check on obtaining those Church blunderbusses,’ she thought as she stood up and left the Writer to its thankless job.