Michael looked around, dumbfounded.
"Is this... all your collection?", he stammered out.
Mr. Maddox snorted before turning around and looking seriously at the young man. "You are incorrect in two ways. First of all, it would take several lifetimes just to amass the collection you see before you. Look at me, do you think I've had that kind of time?"
Michael grinned sheepishly. Even though he still had a bit of the failing of the young of being unable to accurately gauge how old exactly adults were, he knew that Mr. Maddox was only a graduate student. He must have acquired the collection through his family or purchasing other collections in bulk.
"Your second mistake is that this isn't all of the books - just the ones for sale. Now, let's discuss the project."
A stunned look quickly replaced his grin once again, before he shook his head and followed the librarian into a small brightly-lit office. He could see a brand new computer that still needed assembly on top of one side of a wraparound desk, with several filing cabinets labeled with a series of letters on the remaining wall.
"You can use this computer, though you'll have to do the assembly yourself. I've read a few books on them, but they're not really my cup of tea."
Michael nodded absentmindedly. He looked at the various components laid out on the work surface. Top of the line graphics card, memory, processor... from myriad sources. Totally overkill for an office computer. The best way he could describe it was as if someone with more money than sense had walked into a store and said 'give me the top of the line, I don't care about anything else.' Michael decided to keep his mouth firmly shut.
"Speaking of, I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some?", the librarian asked, not even waiting for a response as he stepped out of the room and headed deeper into the building. Michael was left alone in the office with the computer.
He was a bit perplexed. The entire "job" was still rather vague. Still, a combination of reflex and respect for his teacher had him starting to put together the computer in short order. Soon he was engrossed in that work, and his concerns about the oddity of the situation faded to the back of his mind.
Without him noticing, Mr. Maddox had returned with a tray and tea set. He quietly observed Michael as he assembled the various components and nodded. He set the tray down on one of the unoccupied desk surfaces, then walked back to the office door before reaching outside just out of potential view of his young student. He quickly retracted his hand, bring a small table back and setting it down in an open area beyond the desk. He repeated the motion twice more, bringing two two chairs into the room as well.
When Michael had finished assembling the components, he plugged everything in and turned on the machine. He monitored the boot sequence and stood up, satisfied, before turning around and jumping a bit as he realized he was no longer alone. Mr. Maddox was sitting in one of the chairs, enjoying a cup of tea as he watched his assistant work.
"Sit," the Librarian stated in a casual but imperious manner.
It sounded like he didn't care whether Michael listened one way or another, but at the same time as though he couldn't imagine anyone ever ignoring his directions. Michael went over and sat down in the remaining chair. There was an empty cup sitting next to the pot, but he didn't know the etiquette so he just... sat there.
Today's experience with Mr. Maddox was very different from their interactions at school. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about his demeanor that made Michael incredibly nervous.
"If you want tea, you can have some," the Librarian said in an amused tone.
"...ah, yes!", Michael hurriedly replied, his hands shaking as he picked up the teapot and went to pour.
"... don't spill."
---
The tea was very fragrant, herbal and floral without being grassy or bitter. Despite the attempts of his mother to convince him otherwise, Michael had always been indifferent to tea, but he found this one quite refreshing. After a few minutes of silence while Michael sipped his tea, unconsciously matching his movements to the other man, Mr. Maddox finally set his cup down and spoke.
"From now on, come here on Sundays. You can choose a cataloguing system that you think is best. If I don't approve, I'll let you know. I want all of these books entered by the end of the year. If you need any other resources, let me know. In return, you can read anything you want. I can also see about getting you additional credit for school, depending on your performance."
Michael hesitated, which led to a frown from the Librarian.
"What."
"It's just, that... beginning next Sunday afternoon, I have a new contract at the cafe."
"The cafe? ... Ah, yes, the Ben-David boys. Very well. Sunday mornings you come here, and then you can go over there afterwards. It's not far," Mr. Maddox announced with a satisfied smile, as though the matter was settled.
Michael nodded unconvincingly. Mr. Maddox's frown returned, deeper than before.
"Still not satisfied? Hmph. Unbelievable. Fine. I might see it that you get paid a small amount as well. I think that's customary. Honestly, children these days."
Michael grimaced. 'Aren't you only a decade or so older than me?' After all, the money wasn't what he had on his mind - it was more a matter of him not having enough time! He already had a billion things on his list to do - another long term project was not going to help. He was only hesitating about how to turn him down. It was at that moment that the System decided to intercede.
"...Michael?"
"Yes, System?"
"I know you're hesitating, and that you've got a lot on your plate, but... I think this could be a really good opportunity. It's ultimately up to you, of course. I can't make this decision for you."
Michael's frown deepened further. The System didn't interject like this. Ever. He could vaguely tell that there was something the System couldn't discuss. Maybe something related to time-travel? Still, he took it to heart. If this was an opportunity that even the System identified, he needed to pay attention. If he worked hard at it, maybe he'd be able to figure out how to make his schedule work. It was a headache, but also... it was an investment, in himself and in his future.
Finally, he sighed and looked up at Mr. Maddox with a wan smile. "Payment isn't necessary, sir. I was just trying to figure out how to make sure that I didn't let my studies or training lapse," he explained with a detectable amount of helplessness lacing his voice.
The Librarian raised his eyebrows. "I see... that's a fair point," he murmured, clearly surprised and impressed by the turn of events. "Tell you what. It'll take a bit longer, but we'll do it this way. Instead of coming at 10 on Sundays, come at 8. I'll tutor you for two hours, making sure that your schoolwork isn't suffering. You'll then work on the project from 10 to 2 before going over to the cafe. I'll talk to young Benjamin and arranged it."
Michael brightened. Private tutoring from a graduate student, especially one clearly as knowledgeable as Mr. Maddox, was a rare opportunity indeed. Maybe this is what the System had guessed would happen. However, something about his statement struck Michael as a little odd.
"Umm, Mr. Maddox, isn't Ben your age?"
"... right. I think I just heard someone else call him that and it slipped out. Never mind that, come out here and I'll show you the rest of the facilities for now. You know, this building used to be one of the oldest mills in the area, a couple of centuries ago. Shipments would come by both land and water to be processed here before heading further on towards the capital. It's a funny story, actually...", he continued as Michael followed him deeper into the rows upon rows of massive bookshelves.
---
Shortly after 1pm, Michael said goodbye to Mr. Maddox and started to walk back towards the downtown core. He promised him to be there at 8 the following Sunday, and to wear a tie.
He strolled back through the park along the river, admiring the view as a few sailboats were now peppering the water. Various groups could be seen enjoying the park, throwing balls and discs back and forth to each other or enjoying a picnic around the water.
There were also the occasional jogger or biker along the path, and as Michael was just walking casually he would step to the side to let them past without paying too much attention. However, one jogger stopped and turned around after he had made way, calling out and shaking him out of his lazy Sunday reverie.
"It's you!"