I MEET D D MAYFIELD, HEAD FLYBRARIAN

Aug 18th 2011, 11:56 by E O Hatterpol | 1228 AU FROM SUN

THE CURIOUS woman peered out at me from behind her lime green cat's-eye glasses.  I stared back, completely lost.  Ravi, Nixie and the Carptain watched us with bated breath.


Finally: the key to this mystery was upon us.


"My name is Lawrence Mayfield," she said, introducing herself. "I was named after St Lawrence, the third-century librarian, but most just call me D D, for Dewey Decimal, of course."


"D D," I said, trying out the nickname hesitantly, "I need to learn about zonbis."


"Ah! You're looking for a book on Haitian vodou then, I suspect.  We used to keep just the one you need in our Helen Matthews collection, right next to journals kept by travelling Frenchmen during the American Civil War, but then..."


She looked over her lime green cat's-eye glasses at Ravi the Bookman.  He gave a short, nervous laugh, stroking the back of his head with his right hand.  Somehow I knew she wasn't really mad; she just liked to tease.


"But now it's lost under a pile of books courtesy of the Stompyface here?" I asked, not without some desperation.


"It is under a pile of books, but no, it isn't lost, my boy," she explained dismissively.  "Go past the last row of shelves Mr Textor has finished, then go around the first two mountains of books you come across.  Around the right side of the third you'll find a bright red book entitled Spæcethyme h& why it's himportant h& hother critical harticles.  Dig for fourteen feet along an angle of fifty-six degrees and you will find what you're looking for."


You might as well have struck me flat in the face with a frying pan.


"How'd you DO that?!"


"Told you she had a special connection," Ravi said.


I turned back, eyes wide with mischief.  I wanted to test this one out.


"Marvel 1602," I asked, knowing half the answer already.


"There are two copies of Mr Gaiman's work aboard the Starship Flybrary, and one of them you checked out at 12:39 PM this past Monday."


My jaw dropped to the floor, and my tongue unravelled down the Head Flybrarian's massive steps all the way to Nixie's toes.  Nixie scooched it to one side so it was off her feet, grossed out.


"How'd you- but I- I didn't really even check it out, Ms Mayfield--"


"Call me D D."


"Ms D D--"


"Just D D."


"I just nicked it off the shelf, is what I did, D D! I didn't swipe my library card or bring it up to you or anything -- I just took it!"


"You checked it out.  I know when books have been checked out, my boy."


"And the other?" I asked, curious to find out.


"The only other copy of Marvel 1602 is..." she trailed off.  She peered over her lime green cat's-eye glasses at Ravi the Bookman for a second time, who was still rubbing the back of his head with his right hand.  He stopped, as if his right arm had been caught, and brought it down by his side, holding his bicep with his left hand almost as if to cover it up.


I smiled big, comprehension dawning.


"The Arm of Neil Gaiman," I said slowly, "you dog, you!  Of course you'd have it, old friend!  That's absolutely wonderful!  You're absolutely wonderful, D D!  What a rare and peculiar skill to possess!"


"Perfect for a librarian," she said, her smile an indication our conversation was now over.  As Nixie, Ravi and I walked away, myself in quite high spirits, the Head Flybrarian disappeared once again behind her cacophony of clutter, chatting in low tones with the Carptain.


And some time later, when we were all but on the other side of the ship, I heard her good-natured witch cackle bounce off the bookstacks.  It made me smile, and forget for just a moment that the end of Starbase Octopus was nigh.

---

WHAT should I do next, Flybrarians?

A: Find that book! Girls are disappearing from Starbase Octopus almost by the second now; a bit of research might give us the leg up on Master Bokor.

B: No need to rush to our doom! There's still plenty to explore aboard the Flybrary; maybe Nixie won't object to an extension of our tour?!

Choose Our Own Adventure in the comments section below, on Facebook, Google+ or @EOHatterpol.  Storylines, brainstorms and criticism can be mailed to EOHatterpol[at]gmail[dot]com.