Chapter 3

Yakhir swallowed his nervousness and squared his shoulders in the barren hallway before he knocked on his father's door, before he knocked on Master Atto's door he corrected himself. A gruff voice on the other side barked an order to enter.

"Master Atto, I have completed a full month's mourning and desire to take up my apprentice duties again," Yakhir spoke to the floor with flattering, false humility. A brief survey of the office left no doubt that this man meant to sweep away any indication of the former occupant. Only the desk remained the same, though certainly not the contents upon it. The clutter was gone; the shelves were filled with evenly spaced binders.

"May your father's memory be a source of comfort," the voice responded with the automatic greeting for mourners. "Please sit down."

Yakhir glanced around for the old stuffed chair that was always available for guests to the Archivist's study, but all he saw was a straight backed plaswood chair of another era; it had probably been repatriated from one of the storage vaults. He sat down, keeping his eyes only a desk level. He felt the sweat on his back where it pressed into the chair. As the Archivist deliberately made him sit in silence waiting to be noticed, Yakhir kept his face carefully relaxed and blank.

"Your personnel file is missing a few items, which surprises me, considering how careful a scholar your father was, Yakhir Al-Taquir. Please answer the following questions," the Archivist insisted.

Any lingering doubts of an easier three years dissipated with the absurd order. His exams were in order and every archivist on the grounds knew his abilities. Was this a test or just a technocrat's exercise in humiliation?

"Of course, Master Atto," he indicated with a touch of obeisance.

"Of the four major languages an archivist is required to read, how many have you acquired?"

Yakhir kept the annoyance off of his face. Everyone knew his test scores in languages including this officious buffoon, because his father could not bear to hold back his paternal pride. "I am at Master's level in three and proficient in Neo Mandarin, although I haven't taken the Master's level exam yet."

"Computer languages, apprentice?" the muffled voice called out from behind the data sheets.

"I can debug all the major codes, Master Atto." Yakhir had to force his fists to unclench in his lap; his decoded assignments were already noted and included in other archivists' reports.

"Then the last category is library skills. Have you completed the requisite courses in cataloguing, updating, and preserving stored materials?"

"I completed my exams and practicum at the end of the rainy season, Master Atto. I catalogued a small South Asian biosensor company in Shaft 3 for my practicum; the catalogue is in... , Yakhir nearly stumbled and mentioned his father, "... is in the Archivist's recent files."

"I will be sure to look for it by the end of day and give it my own review," the pudgy man proclaimed with a shake of his hanging jowls as he placed the file on the desk. His beady eyes were sunken deep behind dark circles under his eyes, which added to the menacing effect with which he was attempting to cow the irritating apprentice.

"As of now, Shaft 3 is off limits to all apprentices, archivists and Master archivists under 20 years work. I am assigning you to Shaft 2 and you will report to Master Kevit-Nakar. Do you have any questions?"

The emphasis was clear that Yakhir was to have no questions. The short interview was over and the impression given by the Archivist was that the apprentice Yakhir was a waste of valuable time.

"No sir. Thank you, sir," and with that Yakhir arose, quietly shutting the door behind him as he stepped into the hall. He allowed himself a deep breath when he was sure no one was watching.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he made his way out of the Archivist building and towards the mountain shafts. Assignment to Master Kevit-Nakar was a slap in the face; he was an irascible old man who acted as if he had forgotten most of what he had learned. He was also an angry man for whom all who had to work under him concluded that he was precipitously close to a detested, old age. He didn't teach students anymore; he flayed them.

However, there was good news to keep a flame of hope alive in his chest. The ignorant Archivist had banned nearly everyone from the third shaft, the last of the three and the one containing the latest dated material. The fool hadn't bothered to read any of Al-Taquir's reports that subtly indicated that the answers to The Great Burning were not to be found there, but in Shaft 2, where the last civilization had begun to rebuild from The Fundi War. The answers were in the beginning, not in the end.

As he approached the shafts, he waved to all of the people who worked in and around the archives. Many came forward to offer their condolences again and ask after his welfare. They also pointed out the new gate that had been erected over the entrance to Shaft 3 with the large lock over the door.