I made my way back to the Director's office to check in, thinking I would find Dick Pasty or whatever the wannabe cop called himself there.
Briggs! That was the name. I like my name for him better.
He was sitting in the Director's chair, searching through the dead man's desk for something when I arrived. Judging by the fact he was alone, the other library dwellers finally took the hint about evacuating.
"Come on," he said as he tried to brute-force an entry code for the drawers.
"Hate to break it to you, but the Director's dead," I said in a mocking tone.
"What, you gonna throw a drowning man a barbell? I'm trying to retrieve his access codes so I can... So the library can elect a new Director. Help me, and I'll let you borrow any books you want." He said, barely looking up at me as he typed away at a black-and-white interface before him.
"Big temptation there. I can see you're all sorts of generous," I chortled. "And yes, if you were, in fact, drowning, I would throw you a barbell. Although a dumbbell seems more your speed."
"Ha ha," Briggs said. "You're funny Mr. Reaper. But if you're not going to help, I'd appreciate it if you left now that you've done your job."
"Who says I'm finished doing that?" I asked. I pulled out the Excisor, with its single, still-active bullet. "I know you called in the corrupted."
Mr. Briggs, Demi bless him, still thought like a cop. He threw his hands up when faced with a force he couldn't control.
"Th-that isn't a crime!" the black-and-white facsimile of a human said.
"No, it isn't. But conspiracy to commit murder? Using a zombie?" I tutted at him. "That gets you put in a very small box to sit in until New Body Day... and the possibility of sitting in it for a long time after, too."
"You're lying!" He said. "You have no proof!"
"Oh?" I smirked. God I love smirking. "Demi, play back those recordings you found."
"Very well, Nixed." Demi replied from thin air.
"What?!" Briggs splurched. "She can't be here! The Director-"
"I happen to have an in with the new Director, and your new boss gave my boss a very interesting recording," I shrugged. "Tia. Would you care to join us?"
"With pleasure, Nixed," she replied, materializing in her axolotl dragon form on my shoulder.
In the middle of the room, right next to us, a hologram of past events began to show.
Atticus stood behind his desk, talking to the air.
"That's great! Wonderful. And you're sure it'll be ready before tomorrow?"
The voice from the other call was not available, but what Atticus said next made it perfectly clear what the conversation was about.
"And you're sure she won't have any retrievable memories after your process. Nothing that can be traced back to me? She was annoying enough as a marine biologist..." Atticus sipped at a glass of some amber alcohol.
He could have simulated any number of good flavors he wanted. Instead, he chose to taste the inside of a barrel. Nixed hated him ever more after seeing it the second time.
"And the betting pool. I'm still in it for a hundred?" Atticus asked. He made some affirming noises, then sipped, then closed the call.
"That doesn't... that isn't proof against me! If anything, whatever's left of Atticus should be deleted!" Briggs argued, pointing at the hologram.
"Keep watching," I ordered.
A few moments later, a knock at the door sounded in the hologram.
"Come in," Atticus ordered.
Briggs entered, not in black and white but in color. "You wanted to see me?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm going for a drive to check on our entertainment for tomorrow. Mind the Ziggurat while I'm out, and make sure the dragon is ready." Atticus' voice was dismissive. He didn't even wait for a response before he started walking past Briggs and away.
"Mind the Ziggurat," Briggs imitated in an immature voice as soon as the doors closed. The hologram showed him standing for a moment, glaring at the door, before he turned, looking around the office.
I watched for the second time as he approached the desk, drawing his hands over it. His face had the look of a man who wanted it for himself.
He barely touched the chair when a voice sounded out from the desk.
"Have a seat, Mr. Briggs, and switch to a private channel," the voice instructed.
Briggs watched in horror as the recording showed him discussing a plan. A plan to rid the Ziggurat of Atticus and put him in charge. He would be beholden to his new patron, but in the Ziggurat, he would be king of his domain.
In the hologram, he agreed so readily, I wished I had one of those little cardboard crowns from Ramen King to put on his head.
"That's enough," I said when I thought the pig had sweated enough. The hologram cut off at a part where Briggs was standing with a big smile on his face, looking out the window.
"The next morning, three hours before the zombie showed up, you called in the potential sighting. Obviously, the call was masked, so aside from the internal monitors, nothing picked up your conversation. But you weren't the first to call in a zombie at the Ziggurat. Someone else did. So we, and by we I mean Demi, myself, and Tia, have some questions for you." I drummed my fingers on the Excisor. "Answer our questions, and maybe Demi won't put you in a box."
Even now, Briggs had a look like he was furiously trying to think of a way out.
"Who put you up to this?" I asked.
"I-I... I can't say," he replied.
"Can't, or won't?" I asked.
"I can't!" He said. "They used a call mask. No ID. You know the exa it takes to get a mask like that? At least a half."
"Who else did you talk to? Who made the other call?" I asked.
"I don't... I didn't know there was one!" He stammered. "I'm being honest. I don't know anything. They promised me the Ziggurat. For once, I just wanted to feel..."
"In control," I finished for him.
Yeah, I get it. We all live in a place that's beyond our complete control and comprehension. So we set up hierarchies. Systems of responsibility and blame that always put someone above us. Here in the Library, that system had probably started collapsing ages ago. Growing egos with no place to stretch out... I was a little surprised no one else was here frothing at the mouth for their shot at the top of this tomb of knowledge.
"Listen to me," I said, "One human to another." I walked through the hologram, and leaned against the wall of books. "Right now, you're staring at an isolation cube. You can go in conscious, and spend all those centuries, maybe even millennia, wishing you could kill yourself." I drummed my fingers on the Excisor again. "Or you can go in dark. Wake up ten seconds later feeling like nothing happened, and hope that a living, breathing human court finds you worth keeping around. Either way, right now, I'm the closest thing you get to a judge. Tia's my witness. And Demi up there," I pointed at the sky, "is your jailer."
"Please... I don't... I really don't know anything. You work for Demiurge... you have to know what it's like to be someone who does all the dirty work. I did everything asked of me, all the dirty work, just so Atticus could make a few more exa..." He started blubbering.
God I hate pigs when they figure out how to oink.
"What the hell kinda dirty work is there to do in a library?" I wondered out loud.
"I altered the books!" He shouted. "I made sure nothing gets out that could disrupt things for the Apex! And what did I get for it? Nothing! Just... dirty... filthy memories of a time I wish I was in instead of this digital hellhole!" Briggs ranted.
I didn't feel sorry for him.
"So if..." he continued, "If you want to punish me... shoot me with that gun. I'd rather end than spend eternity in prison."
Tucking the Excisor into my armpit, I started clapping.
It was a real seat-clutcher speech, but he managed to pull some human dignity out at the end.
I walked up to him, and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Bravo, Mr. Briggs. Bravo. You've touched my cold Reaper heart," I said, touching said space on my chest where a heart wasn't. Could still feel a heartbeat though.
"S-so you'll do it? You'll save me from this Perdition?" he looked at me with his black and white tear-stained eyes.
"No," I answered.