Alcatraz Versus the Knights of Crystallia

“Anyway,” Folsom continued, “the Librarians announced they were going to offer us a treaty. Then they started going to parties and socializing with the city’s elite.”

That sounded like the kind of information my grandfather wanted. I wondered if I should just grab Folsom and take him back.

But, well, Grandfather wouldn’t return to the castle for hours yet. Besides, I was no errand boy. I hadn’t simply come to fetch Folsom and then sit around and wait. Alcatraz Smedry, brave vacuum cleaner rider and wearer of the awesome sombrero, didn’t stand for things like that. He was a man of action!

“I want to meet with some of these Librarians,” I found myself saying. “Where can we find them?”

Folsom looked concerned. “Well, I guess we could head to the embassy.”

“Isn’t there somewhere else we could run into them? Someplace a little more neutral?”

“There will probably be some at the prince’s lunch party,” Himalaya said.

“Yeah,” Folsom said. “But how will we get into that? You have to RSVP months in advance.”

I stood up, making a decision. “Let’s go. Don’t worry about getting us in—I’ll handle that.”

Chapter 7

Okay, go back and reread the introductions to chapters two, five, and six. Don’t worry, I can wait. I’ll go make some popcorn.

Pop. Pop-pop. Pop-pop-pop. Pop. POP!

What, done already? You must not have read very carefully. Go back and do it again. Munch. Munch-munch. Munch-munch-munch. Munch. Crunch.

Okay, that’s better. You should have read about:

Fish sticks

Several things you can do to fight the Librarians

Mental hospitals that are really churches

The connection between these three things should be readily obvious to you:

Socrates.

Socrates was a funny little Greek man best known for forgetting to write things down and for screaming, “Look, I’m a philosopher!” in the middle of a No Philosophy zone. (He was later forced to eat his words. Along with some poison.)

Socrates was the inventor of something very important: the question. That’s right—before Socrates, languages had no ability to ask questions. Conversations went like this:

Blurg: “Gee, I wish there were a way I could speak to Grug and see if he’s feeling all right.”

Grug: “By the tone of your voice, I can tell that you are curious about my health. Since I just dropped this rock on my foot, I would like to request your help.”

Blurg: “Alas, though our language has developed the imperative form, we have yet to discover a method of using the interrogative. If only there were a simple way to ease communication between us.”

Grug: “I see that a pteroydeactyl has begun to chew on your head.”

Blurg: “Yes, you are quite right. Ouch.”

Fortunately, Socrates eventually came along and invented the question, allowing people like Blurg and Grug to speak in a way that wasn’t quite so awkward.

All right, I’m lying. Socrates didn’t invent the question. But he did popularize it through something we call the Socratic method. In addition, he taught people to ask questions about everything. To take nothing for granted.

Ask. Wonder. Think.

And that’s the final thing you can do to help fight the evil Librarians. That and buy lots of my books. (Or did I mention that one already?)

“So, who’s this prince that’s throwing the party?” I asked as Folsom, Himalaya, and I traveled by carriage.

“The High King’s son,” Folsom said. “Rikers Dartmoor. Out of seven crowns, I’d give him five and a half. He’s likable and friendly, but he doesn’t have his father’s brilliance.”

I’d been trying for a while to figure out why Folsom rated everything like that. So I asked: “Why do you rate everything all the time like that?” (Thanks, Socrates!)

“Hum?” Folsom asked. “Oh, well, I am a critic.”

“You are?”

He nodded proudly. “Head literary critic for the Nalhallan Daily, and a staff writer for plays as well!”

I should have known. Like I said, all of the Smedrys seemed to be involved in one academic field or another. This was the worst yet. I looked away, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Shattering Glass!” Folsom said. “Why do people always get like that when they find out?”

“Get like what?” I asked, trying to act like I wasn’t trying to act like anything at all.

“Everyone grows worried when they’re around a critic,” Folsom complained. “Don’t they understand that we can’t properly evaluate them if they’re not acting normally?”

“Evaluate?” I squeaked. “You’re evaluating me?”

“Well, sure,” Folsom said. “Everybody evaluates. We critics are just trained to talk about it.”

That didn’t help. In fact, that made me even more uncomfortable. I glanced down at the copy of Alcatraz Smedry and the Mechanic’s Wrench. Was Folsom judging how much I acted like the hero in the book?

“Oh, don’t let that thing annoy you,” Himalaya said. She was sitting next to me on the seat, uncomfortably close, considering how little I trusted her. Her voice sounded so friendly. Was that a trick?

“What do you mean?” I asked.