The Clocks

The twins were already moving by the time Mimi had finished speaking. They'd had long experience with the consequences if she weren't obeyed. Had they been able to see behind them they would have seen the amusement on Sara and Paolo's faces as they watched Mario begin a futile argument about waiting until Miranda was finished.

After about 20 seconds, Genie solved that problem by taking Mario by the hand and dragging him down the street toward home. Sara and Paolo were right in front of them, with Mimi bringing up the rear.

One thing that everyone seemed to have forgotten was that it was now after 9 p.m., and they weren't exactly in what one could call the safest part of town. The twins were chatting, not paying much attention to their surroundings, so they never noticed when four of the shadows on nearby buildings detached themselves from the walls. Two stepped in front of them, blocking their way, while the other two grabbed them from behind.

Given how quickly the twins had been moving, the others were by then just barely close enough to see what had happened. Genie and Mario made as if to rush forward, but they were restrained, both by Paolo throwing an arm out in front of them, and by Mimi grabbing both of them by the collar and pulling backwards. Sara on the other hand continued walking. She didn't hurry, nor did her pace slow.

Genie's and Mario's voices were muffled by Mimi's hands suddenly covering their mouths. Their protests that they needed to do something were thus not heard by anyone other than Paolo.

As Sara closed the distance, she noticed that the attackers were three men and a woman, all of about 25 to 30 years of age. When she came to within 20 meters she raised her voice and said in a conversational tone, "I suggest that you let them go and disappear. Right now would be the smart choice."

One of the four assailants turned and licked his lips. "Well lookie here. The little lady wants us to let these two go. Maybe we should. She's quite the looker. We can sell her for a lot more than the kids."

The woman looked Sara up and down, then laughed softly. "I don't believe it. I know her. She's one of the librarians at the Little Cathedral. I saw her the other day when I was checking out some shops across the street.."

She turned more fully toward Sara, who was still approaching, and raised a knife. "So Miss Librarian, what are you going to do if we refuse your kind offer?"

Sara shrugged her shoulders. "Stop you of course. By whatever means necessary."

The thug holding Conseula, who was beginning to struggle, pulled out his own knife and put it to her throat. "Ya'd better stop talking nonsense, otherwise this one is dead. I haven't killed anyone for almost two weeks, and I'm feeling sorta deprived, ya know? So if you don't want this one to be next, you walk, slow-like, until you're two meters away. Then you stop. Capice?"

As instructed, Sara moved slowly to within two meters. Then she stopped.

The thug lowered his knife and rasped, "Good girl."

He turned to the others, "Looks like she won't need much taming neither. We should get a good pri...."

Moments later Sara took the twins by the hands and tugged gently. "Let's be on our way. We need baths. Those things don't smell all that good."

So saying, she put an arm around the shoulders of each of them and gently restrained their heads when they tried to look at what was behind them.

Mimi and Paolo had let go of the others at that point. Genie and Mario rushed forward and bent over the bodies of the would-be slave traders.

When Paolo reached the others he looked down and sighed. It's frustrating when you know that your wife can deal with some situations better than you can, even when she's four months along in her pregnancy. But, that's what a true partnership is. One covers for the things the other lacks.

"Well, that's irritating. I'm not going to be able to go home till I make a report."

Turning to Mimi he asked, "Will you please ask either Captain Murray or Sergeant Rivers to come, or whomever is on call at this time of night? Also please have them bring enough help to carry these things? I'm sure they won't want to leave them here."

Mimi nodded firmy. "Indeed. Their stench will ruin what little ambiance this neighborhood has." So saying she blinked out, leaving Paolo to explain the situation to the astonished faces that were turning toward him.

"If your minds were working, especially yours Mario, as you've fought bandits on several occasions, you'd remember how Master Hiroshi feels about being able to protect yourself. And you should also recall that Sara is Master Hiroshi's first-born child. He began teaching her the art when she was two. He tells me that by the time she was 19 there was nothing left that he knew to teach her. Since then they've gotten together once a week to, what's the word, oh yes, 'spar' for an hour or two. They say it's so they can 'keep in practice', but I know better. I've never seen two people involved in something they love as much as those two do.

He nodded at the dawning comprehension in Genie and Mario's eyes.

"Both of you know him. Ever since Sara became pregnant, he's been inventing 'Special Techniques' to use when she gets far enough along that her movements will be restricted.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I quit watching after the third time. When I think of how poorly I perform even the simple katas so far, it gives me an immense inferiority complex." He shrugged his right shoulder. "Well, I only started two months ago. Maybe with a few more years of practice I won't feel quite so bad.

"You two head on home. I'd suggest you walk rather briskly. If the twins have hysterics in the bath, Sara will need some help calming them, so you're elected Genie. They don't know Mario well enough yet for him to be able to assist."

They nodded, somewhat dumbly, then took each other's hands and hurried on their way. Paolo nodded in approval. Even though Mario was depending on Genie so as to keep his balance at that speed, his gait was already improving,

Once Sergeant Rivers and a squad of the Guard arrived, Paolo explained why Sara had decided that killing the attackers was the only way to save the children, especially given the one's comment about killing Consuela if Sara resisted being kidnapped along with them.

The Sergeant just nodded when Paolo finished. She didn't know all four by sight, but the one she did know had a price on his head. He'd been wanted for murder in both Catania and Bari.

After her squad had carried off the bodies she told Paolo, "Sara will need to come make a statement tomorrow morning, and you'd probably better bring Mimi too. It's likely that the others didn't see or hear enough to be of help."

She nodded to herself, then, before turning to leave, said, "Be well youngling. I hope that the next time we meet it will be in more congenial circumstances."

"As do I Sergeant. As do I. Peace be with you." Paolo chuckled mirthlessly. "Though, given your occupation, I'm afraid that Peace doesn't find you all that often."

"Truly, but the thought is appreciated. Till tomorrow."

So saying, she turned and strode off briskly. Her shift had only just begun an hour before. There was likely to be a lot more on her plate before she was relieved in the morning.

---------------------------

At Brewster's Books

"What do you mean you're disappointed in me. Who are you to judge me, especially given that we've just met, you miserable excuse for...."

O'Malley put a finger to their lips, and instantly Miranda's tirade ceased. Try as she might, she couldn't open her mouth. "Much better. The student should listen when the Master speaks, not spout meaningless drivel."

The pointed to the chair behind Miranda. "Sit, be still, and listen."

She did, though her glare had lost none of its intensity.

"Somewhat better. You may now speak, though only when I ask you a question."

Miranda's mouth flew open as she prepared to retort, only to slam shut again when incredible pain engulfed her face as every muscle in it went into an extreme spasm.

O'Malley spoke calmly, "You're not listening very well either. I said you could speak when I asked questions. I don't recall giving you permission to say anything otherwise."

They waved a hand and the spasms stopped. O'Malley waited until Miranda was recovered enough from the pain to sit upright and attend.

"First question. What were you going to do with the books? Oh, I suppose I should let you know that an impertinent reply will be punished. We have no more time for your theatrics."

Miranda worked her mouth several times to see if she were able to speak properly. She schooled herself into as neutral an expression as possible.

O'Malley commented, "Adequate. You'll do better when you're more mature. Now, answer the question."

Miranda flinched as her own words to her children were thrown in her face. "I was planning on buying the books."

O'Malley nodded. "All right. Then what were you going to do with them? You can skip the part about trying to bore me with minutia as a way of 'getting back at me' by telling me that you'd be taking them home, putting them on shelves and such."

Working out a mild cramp in her jaw, Miranda answered, "I was planning on reading them."

O'Malley waggled both eyebrows. "Oh, really. And when were you planning to do so? No wait, don't answer that. Tell me, approximately how many books do you have at home that you haven't read yet, and how many do you read in a month?"

Miranda answered defensively, "About 300 I guess. And I read about one or two a month. But I'm really very busy! I don't have time to do more than that."

Nodding as one does when one's suspicions are confirmed, O'Malley said, "I see. Which means that you'll be caught up with what you already have in, what, about 12 or 13 years? Is that right?"

Motoring right along they added, "Now tell me. Have you read the Inferno by Dante? There are a number of copies in the various libraries in town now."

Miranda nodded cautiously. She had no idea where this was going. She was extremely irritated with this "person," but she was also terrified by what they'd just done to her.

O'Malley smiled. "Very good. Now answer me this. What punishment was given to horders?"

O'Malley peered intently at Miranda, watching her mind working through why the question had been asked and what the implications were. She was a very intelligent being, just somewhat dense when it came to certain ideas. When the light dawned on her face, they continued.

"Given what you told me about how slowly you read books, and the total number you already have waiting to be read, these books you just brought out would sit on your shelves, unread, for up to another 14 or 15 years.

"Almost a third of these are the only copies in the entire city. Of those, further copies of half of them will not make their way here for another five to 20 years. Which means that those who would benefit from reading them, or who could use those particular books to complete their research projects, will have to wait at least until then. That assumes that you wouldn't just let them sit on your shelves after you got them home. I suppose that, when you finally get around to dying, your family will donate them to one of the libraries. Too bad that those who need them now may well have died themselves before that happens."

Miranda slumped forward in the chair, with her face in her hands, sobbing.

O'Malley smiled. They were well familiar with the phrase, "a diamond in the rough." It was true that there was a diamond in there somewhere, but this one was still much more "rough" than precious stone.

"What we're going to do is this. Today you make take home ONE book. You may come back for ONE more after you have read, and understood, two of those you have at home in addition to the one you take home tonight. You will also first need to have donated any three books of your choice to one of the libraries."

They snorted. "You have so many bookshelves in your office right now that it looks like a pigsty. I suspect that you may find some interesting things buried here and there when you finally pare the clutter down.

"Well. enough of that. I'm tired. It's past time for my supper, and then some."

They reached into the middle of the pile on the counter and pulled out a book. "Here's the one you need to read first. I'll see you when it's time for the next one. Untill then, a good night to you."

Miranda found herself outside the store facing a door with a "Closed" sign on it. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, lifted the book she was holding to her chest, and wrapped her arms around it. Then she turned and trudged up the hill toward home.