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Loaf only chuckled.
“You knew,” said Rigg.
“The mask was not deceived,” said Loaf, “and so I saw the difference between the dancing light of the illusion and the solidity of the walls.”
“But you still see the beauty of the art?” asked Swims-in-the-Air.
“As much as I ever could have without the mask,” said Loaf. “It adds nothing to my appreciation of artificial beauty.”
“So art does not speak to you?” asked Mouse-Breeder.
“Your art with the mice speaks to me very clearly,” said Loaf. “The mice only understand your language, am I right?”
“They’ll learn yours quickly enough,” said Mouse-Breeder.
“But when the Visitors come, they won’t be able to get access to any of the books that are invisibly stored in this place.”
Mouse-Breeder nodded, his smile even slighter, if that were possible. “Only with the help of the mice can anyone find any book or diagram or map or work of art in all of Odinfold.”
“So if someone killed the mice?” asked Umbo. “You’d lose your whole library?”
“You must have another way,” said Olivenko. “Another key to the library.”
“Something mechanical,” said Loaf.
“No,” said Swims-in-the-Air. “Back doors can be found. Machines can be discovered. No, it’s mice and mice alone.”
“But we’re mindful of the chance of loss,” said Mouse-Breeder.
“He’s too modest to tell
you himself,” said Swims-in-the-Air. “These mice are actually a genetic hodgepodge of astonishing variety. More than three thousand species, and no two in this room are genetically close. A disease that wiped out all the mice of any one species, or even all the closely related species, would still leave most of the mice untouched.”
“If you have three thousand species,” said Olivenko, “how many individuals are there of each?”
“We can’t count them all,” said Mouse-Breeder. “They reproduce like mice, you see, and then they teach their children how to manipulate the electronics, so nothing is lost. The great prairies of Odinfold have thousands of different kinds of grass, and the mice thrive on all the seeds. There are hundreds of billions of mice.”
“So where three billion humans once lived . . .” began Olivenko.
“A hundred times as many mice. And also the owls and foxes, ferrets and cats that feed on them, and the hawks and eagles and wolves that feed on them,” said Mouse-Breeder. “And grazing animals to keep any one grass from crowding out all others, and the great cats that feed on the grazing animals, and the hyenas and other scavengers that gather at their kills. Our great wallfold is a garden of life, dotted with the ruins of our ancient civilization, and only tree-dwelling yahoos to show that humans once lived here.”
“An elegant disguise,” said Rigg.
“Which failed,” said Mouse-Breeder. “And so we bring you to our library, in hopes that you can find a better way.”
“I take it the mice will bring us books,” said Olivenko.
“Just say what you want to study—the topic, the source, a specific title, an author, or even a question. Sit at the table, or lean against a wall, or ask while you’re walking, and the mice will cause the book you want to appear before you.”
“Mouse-Breeder is our best librarian,” said Swims-in-the-Air.
“She means the best one living,” said Mouse-Breeder, “because our ancestors designed and built and collected so well and thoroughly that there was hardly anything left to do when I came along.”
“So using intelligent mice for access is just a bit of decoration?” asked Olivenko wryly.
“I want to see a book,” said Rigg.
Instantly there was a book lying on the table. And then another, and another, two or three appearing, another disappearing, as if the books were works of sculpture being displayed in rapid succession.
