Apostles of Doom

“Yes, truly,” Erestofanes sighed. “However, there were four occasions where Hephaestus was able to recover select works from the Libraries of Alexandria on a few Earths before their destruction. I suppose it was one of the benefits of being part of a pantheon worshipped by the people who built the libraries.”

“The Library of Alexandria?” Tom asked in amazement. “That is impressive.”

“Thank you m’lord. Hephaestus, of course, deserves the credit,” Erestofanes said, smiling. “We recovered numerous original works. I personally enjoyed the work of the playwright named Homer. Hephaestus recovered original copies of several of his works.”

“Really? Wow, I would love to read them, although I’m not sure demon universal translation works on writing,” Tom said.

“You would be surprised. Demon sight is pretty good at translation. Given how important contractual negotiations are for demons, it comes rather built-in. However, admittedly, I try to take the time to study the various languages natively. I have picked up quite a few during the last four thousand years. I’ve had quite a bit of free time, what with so few visitors to the library,” the demon said, ending with a sigh.

“We will work to change that,” Tom said, smiling at him. “I am certain we have numerous people that will want to visit. Tamarin has mentioned that the djinn used to study here.”

“Yes, indeed.” Erestofanes smiled at the djinni. “They are lovely patrons and were of great assistance in helping us make new acquisitions.”

“And we need to bring our mana-using team back up to snuff. I assume there are books on wizardry, animagic and shamanism?” Tom asked.

“Oh my, yes,” Erestofanes said, rolling his eyes. “From many different worlds and systems. Also a superb collection of science and engineering books. You know we have one of the most comprehensive collection of Altrusian writings anywhere in the multiverse.”

Tom pursed his lips and nodded. “I had not known that, but am not surprised, given that they were involved in a lot of the work done here.” He didn’t mention Tartarus; he was not exactly sure how widespread knowledge of the black site had gotten outside the circle of his commanders.

“Indeed, indeed.” Erestofanes nodded. “Although, when it comes to trans-dimensional-temporal engineering, I have found the works of the Gallifreyans to be a bit more accessible in their approach.”

“The Gallifreyans?” Tom asked, feeling his sanity once more under attack.

“Yes. They are from a planet and plane with great mastery of time and space, from a technological perspective. Currently — hah, hah, excuse the obviously illogical term — they have located their planet in its own pocket universe. Now, admittedly, the Altrusians do handle the more magical aspects of the subject better; however, the Gallifreyan approach, while a bit more limited, is more solidly wedded to traditional principles of physics, matter and energy. They do tend to ignore mana, which I suppose is logical in that they are from a very high-tech plane, but they have managed to get a decent understanding of animus and have been able to do remarkable work on animatic regeneration and reincarnation from a technological point of view. Which, interestingly, is not something many high-tech dimensions have been able to do.”

“Uh, yes,” Tom said, trying to cut off what he was pretty sure was going to be a very pedagogical lecture on what he suspected was one of the librarian’s favorite topics. “This is incredibly useful, and I want to discuss this in great deal, but tonight I had come mainly for some calm reflection.”

Erestofanes stopped and shook his head. “My dear, I am so sorry. I got pulled off on to one of my tangents. I have a terrible habit of doing that.”

Tom chuckled. “No problem at all, and actually quite enlightening. However, I had wandered down here to do some thinking and introspection.”

“Of course, of course. Your prior self came here quite often for that,” Erestofanes told him. That was not what Tom wanted to hear. “Well, I shall let you wander,” the demon said. “You may be interested in examining some of your prior self’s portraits.”

Tom shook his head slightly in puzzlement. “Multiple portraits? I would not have thought O — my prior self to age and thus not need portraits at different stages of life.”

Erestofanes nodded in agreement. “Indeed. He — you — did not age except by choice; however, you — uhm, Lord Orcus — this is quite difficult to keep straight…”

“Just refer to my prior self and current self as if we were two different people.” Which we are, Tom thought.

“Yes, very well. Indeed. Uhm… oh yes, he liked to have portraits done of various forms, shapes, bodies that he frequently transformed into. Over time, detailed memory gets hazy, thanks to sleeping, as you two were discussing, and having accurate portraits enabled him to get forms correct which he had not recently assumed. Sort of a continuity check, if you will.”