The Keepers of the Library Read Free

seems to have any answers. What’s really going to happen on February 9, 2027?”
    “I don’t have any special insights,” he answered. “It’s not like I’m sitting on inside information.”
    “Yeah, but you’re the reason we know about all this! I’m sorry to press you, but I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here with Will Piper! I’d kick myself later if I didn’t take advantage of it.”
    “I’ve been out of the loop for over fifteen years. I’m more than out of the loop, I’m persona non grata with the government.” He had another mouthful. “If I didn’t have a trump card, I’m sure they would have bumped me off years ago.”
    “The database.”
    He nodded.
    “You’re BTH, right?”
    Beyond the Horizon. “Yeah, I’m BTH.”
    “I guess at this point, I am, too,” she said. “Still, could you look me up?”
    “Believe me, I don’t have access to the database.”
    “I guess I really wouldn’t have ever wanted to know.”
    “I hear you.”
    “But it’s awful to think that everything’s going toend in something like four hundred days, whatever the number is—you know people have countdown clocks on their screens! The world’s totally obsessing and stressing.”
    “I don’t think about it very much,” Will said. “I just live.”
    “Yeah, but you’ve got a son.”
    He held out his glass for a refill. “That, young lady, is the hardest part. Plus a daughter probably older than you from a previous marriage.”
    “Any grandkids?”
    “One. Laura’s got a son, Nick. A very good kid.”
    “So you
do
think the world’s going to end.”
    “Yes, no, maybe, maybe not, probably, probably not. Depends on the day you ask.”
    “Today?”
    He wet his finger and held it up to the air. “Today? Yeah, we’re toast.”
    “Then why are you on the scotch wagon?”
    He waved his glass. “I think we’ve established I’ve fallen off.”
    “I mean in general. Most people I know are heavily into eat, drink, and be merry.”
    “If it were just me, I’d probably be a world-class hedonist. Nancy—that’s my wife—wouldn’t stand for it. There’re certain things worse than death. You don’t want to see her when she’s pissed off.”
    Meagan clucked at that. “Where is she?”
    “In DC. She’s got a big job with the feds. My son lives up there with her.”
    “Separated?”
    “Nope. She hates seeing me mope around our place in Virginia. It’s the way we’ve worked things out. I’m from down here, always liked it. In a year or so, when we get close to the Horizon, we’ll see where we park ourselves.”
    She put her glass down and ran a finger down his shirt from neck to navel, her fingernail against cotton making a rough, unzipping sound.
    He knew what was happening, but he asked innocently, “What’s this all about?”
    “My sauce tastes best when it’s simmered a long time.”
    “I like a good red sauce.”
    “Then come along to my bunk or berth or whatever you call a bed on a boat.”
    “Margie’s right there.”
    “She’s a really heavy napper.” She placed one of his big hands on her left breast. “I think we should have some fun, don’t you? I liked you right away.”
    He struggled with a response. His thinking wasn’t crisp anymore, and her breast felt lovely and soft. “You’re some kind of bikini-clad devil, aren’t you?”
    She inched closer and kissed him on the lips.
    After half a minute he pulled back, and said, “You know, I think I’m going to have to decline your awfully kind invitation.”
    “Your wife?”
    He nodded. “I’ve made promises. To her. To myself.”
    “Yeah, but don’t you find me attractive?” She slid a hand over his crotch.
    His head was swimming. “I certainly do.”
    “The world’s going to end. Shouldn’t we just enjoy ourselves?”
    He admired her legs. “That’s a commonly held point of view. But …” He took a deep breath and when he exhaled, something happened.
    He felt like the air wasn’t expelling,