I was able to then explained what had happened and he actually was quiet and let me finish until he looked at the metal "U" in my hand and said "It was THE LAST CODEX you popped!?"He cried, "YES!!!" I yelled! Finally! He understood that enormity of the situation! He took a step back and looked at me with a few tears coming down after a few beats(which was all theatrics because I know he can cry on command like some kind of psychopath) and said in a somber voice"It was nice knowing you my boy. You had a good run of it but it seems like time comes for all of us and I hate to bury a child but-""DAD COME ON I DID THE STUPID THING-!!""OK-okay no need to yell Christian.."Moms going to throw me in the composteeeer!" I keened breathlessly "Now now calm down does your mother reeeally need to know though?...." he squinted at me and crooked his head.I looked back at him like he had damned himself to the deepest pits of hell and a hysterical giggle bubbled up a bit even though I knew he did not mean it as a joke. At all. I think I went a little crazy or maybe just became more like Dad, at that exact moment of time, eh, oh well- potato tomaytoe potatas as they say. Either way, I reflected briefly on his daring proposal and whispered to myself almost reverently-"doesn't need to know...." Yea...maybe... I mean it's not like she would even want to look at it again for a few years at least..."Shake on it" my traitorous lips whisperedAnd my dad- the snake-charmer -whipped my hand into a solid three pump before he looked at what I was holding in my cloth gloved left hand."Deal, now let me see the precious" He said while pulling on his own sterile gloves and taking the now less deceptively heavy plated book frame with frown and a ginger touch."Can't be, no seams and seems about right, but the amount and the workings on the hinges mmmh. Must be no..older than ugh I can see for myself hold on!"He mumbled to himself as he walked back saying he had to find some reagents and that they better not have spoiled as he was want to complain about things that were already functionally waaaay past their "expiration date" or, in Dad's mind; "gross underestimation date".

He came back with a faded little cooler that had stored inside different colored liquids cradled individually placed and sadly un-labeled chilled containers. He set down a little boxy thing that I was sure he would demonstrate the function of in a second so I bit off my question on the integrity of his potions and sat down and prayed that he didn't inadvertently gas us all but he didn't seem too concerned which meant they were probably rather benign or so I told myself to keep the anxiety down. We try not to mention "The Incidents". At least not around dad or anywhere he could have ears-which is to say the entire state- so yea it's not a popular topic though apparently it's alright to mention it if you are joking so it really is a gamble. He continued to a hastily cleared table and pipetted a few drops onto the gold like edge from a mix collected from 2 of the little flasks he brought and his eyebrows shot up to above his hairlineHe looked around and said in a whisper"Okay....let's go grab a snack" He basically dragged me down a tunnel leading to "The Vault"Whatever it was dad wanted to be 100% certain it was to remain between the two of us. For now. I knew in my heart that I had struck a fools bargain and with how serious dad was being- quietly gathering his "tool box" and running his chemistry set back to wherever he procured it from-that keeping this from Mom was already a foregone conclusion. That was a problem for the poor future me and seeing as my dad was getting into quite a fluster that, uhm, conceptual person looked to be in a deeper pit than they first may have accounted for. Serious enough that we have to be wary of drawing the hand of "Guidance" that the overmind would so kindly reach out with. If it wasn't greedily cataloging every scrap of knowledge we could dig up from the past we would certainly have been scrutinized a bit more and Dad not for lack of trying was apt to have his true politics laid bare and even though it looked good on paper to have a descendant of the last Grand Archivist manning one of the more remote and out of the way Data Dumps all it would take is for some metrics to be triggered and we could all be replaced. Or Ghosted as the more conspiratorial boards would have you believe. Dad from the looks of it knew-better than me maybe, certainly never to eclipse mom and her computer wizardry-what would come if this "shiny" was Catalouged after an Archive Upload to the OverMind. It would mean certain death for us and another Homestead going off-line in the Alaskanian Triangle. A fate left unquestioned yet constantly at our shoulders. Those who knew it ignored reality for all who have fought it in the past have been left forgotten to all but the True Archive that is jealously guarded by our self-made despot. As would a child hoard their favorite story book. Except this story is only the True History of our people- in all their ignorance and glory- yet known only to that which has all but declared us as Its' domain. I would break the shroud that obscures our past so that through recognizing their errors we may never again enslave ourselves to such a power-an Idea- as is the One True A.I.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

With all those thoughts swirling throughout my mind I followed my equally forlorn Dad through the tunnel leading to our "little fortress of solitude" aka a Vault in perpetual suspension on top of a magnetic dampener so as to have a 3 foot at most vacuum barrier surrounding a lead reinforced kitchen domicile that connected by telescoping air-locks that Automatically connected as they sensed the bio-signature of one of the Only three people who were allowed access. Pretty nifty having a dad as a tinkered if you got past the fail-safes Dad had in place. Those that he told me about, that mom warned of, or was told not to ask-as in when asking about certain anomalous looking devices like the Metallic Pillar in the center of the Hab was for and why it had to be literally in the middle of the way. Which went from a brush off when I was young( yea, sure, it just CAME that way Dad...) to a pat on the arm from Mom later telling me "Just don't ask about the Obelisk okay, it's a pet project of ours". Which totally put me off my then building Rant seeing as the last word was not "Dads".

Pulled out of remembrance I blinked at the Air poofing the hair around our now sweaty brows as the connection was made and we bridged the meter of dead space while wheeling a cart of food dad collected from the revolving pantry. It was time to see if all that glitters really is gold. Or just some alloy that is similarly shiny?...My bet was on the former, seeing as my usual great luck was somehow on the fritz today. Also, not to make light of my immenent composting, but I WAS kind of hungry from all the action (yes I know I didn't even get hurt but still) so I followed Dad but really was eyeing up a scone while holding the object of our Mystery as tightly as I could without letting the metal lids grate against each other. I had already done enough damage as it was and couldn't bear damaging what would end up NOT being a another old priceless heirloom forgotten on a shelf. No, for knowledge always comes at some price-the least of all being the time alone to learn-however the currency this would extoll of mine and my own would end up being paid in blood. For all the wonder and renown this anti-social bookworm would later find I look back and wonder what would have happened had I just returned the Book to its storage. If that damn bird hadn't acted so Unnaturally...