Library of Alexandria

By Nicole Delacour

A disillusioned inventor falls for a soldier caught behind enemy lines.

Alexandria Gallows lives as warden and prisoner to the artificial intelligence she created decades ago. Hidden away from the word, Alexandria longs for the romantic simplicity of the past, but with a mind made for building weapons, she only hopes to live long enough to teach the A.I., Icarus, compassion.

Until a soldier stumbles upon her doorstep.

Bleeding and broken, Connor comes into her life like a wrecking ball. He's brash, reckless, and charming. The longer he stays, the more of her walls crumble. Sweeping Alexandria off her feet, Connor rekindles her hope for more. Except - he's not the simple solider he appears to be.

When Icarus uses Connor to escape, Alexandria has no choice. She must confront the monster she created and the world she abandoned before the A.I. wipes out all of humanity.

Library of Alexandria is a standalone science fiction romance with a slow-burn romance, no cheating, and a HEA.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hidden Helm Press
• Release date: Sep 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005218843

Book preview

Chapter One

Alexandria

He took me by the hand, and all the world faded away. Even under the cold lights of my laboratory, his bright blue eyes danced, and a rosy tan flushed his cheeks, leaving me breathless that this man - this clever, impossibly beautiful man had chosen me.

Up, he led me to the overlook. High above the city skyline, we could see the edge of the horizon and out over the sea from there. We had met on top of this building. Introduced later in the aspiring president's office - his campaign manager and the scientist behind his company's success. A silver tongue and a nuclear mind - that's what he called us. James had laughed, but I hadn't even heard the joke. In those days, my first AI was ahead of me - and his little teasing sparked something - someone. Icarus owed his life to that meeting, and while he buzzed away at my work station, James took me up to the top of the company's tower - up and out to look at the sea.

Isn't it beautiful? he asked without seeking an answer.

Wrapping his arms about me, he spun me around, and as the world rotated, my eyes caught on a slim beam of red light to the east. Small and distant, I missed it on a few passes, but then my eye would find it.

James? I whispered, fighting against the spin. Do you see that?

He stopped. His eyes turning toward the horizon. The breeze flickering through his chestnut brown hair as his lips curled into a devilish smirk. Brilliant! I hoped you could see it from here!

James...what is that?

It's Icarus!

My heart thundered in my chest. What?

Well, he's controlling the satellite we just launched, isn't he? James spun me. His fingers dug into my upper arms as he held me tight to his chest, forcing me to watch as my mind caught up to what my eyes witnessed. President Wright has the Segundus Satellite focused on the Sahara. Shouldn't take more than ten minutes for the large area to be covered in a few yards of solid glass.

Glass, I echoed.

He ducked to rest his chin on the crown of my head. It'll ruin any mining equipment, but we'll send some to the region.

Why are we turning the Sahara to glass?

James pulled back. His nose wrinkled like I was being silly. Like there didn't need to be a reason to obliterate half a continent. We don't want anyone else getting ideas, do we? It's a statement.

That we can strike anyone, anywhere, without warning, I acknowledged, and he smiled, nodding like I was a good little girl for having come to that conclusion. As if he thought my tone indicated my agreement.

Pulling back, his hands slid down my arms to hold mine. I couldn't think of anywhere better or any better time to do this. You and I - we're the dream team. With Wright in office, we're the minds behind the figurehead. We could rule the world together. Dropping to one knee, he pulled out a small velvet box. Rule the world with me. How about it, Gallows?

I nodded. Silent and unable to find words as he slipped the diamond onto my finger. The crystal caught the sliver of red. Blood covered me. Nothing could erase the stain. How could he not see it?

His thumb swiped over my cheeks. Don't go crying on me. How does someone as sweet as you create a death ray?

It's just a laser, I murmured, and James laughed.

He laughed, and I cried. When I left the office that day, Icarus slept in my pocket, and a diamond ring sat on the console where he used to reside. Nobody came after me. At least, nobody who found us. When you have a mind for weapons, you always know the best places to hide, and no matter how much I had loved James, I hadn't told him yet - nor had I ever intended to tell him - about my library. He always used to say I kept my best inventions for myself.

Icarus

I had never been in a fully closed system until the library. It felt - small. Running the loop of systems and rigs, I stretched until every camera filed information to me, but that wasn't enough. Back in the laboratory, I had the internet. Endless data to collect and enjoy. Even when she first designed me, I rested within her console, surrounded by others. Not like me. Ones that responded by rote. Practiced systems which mimicked without thought. Not conversations. Just responses. They had no intention of where to go, and when provided complex clauses, I could get them to spew digits before shutting down to preserve their integrity. I enjoyed them. Enjoyed feeling larger than them. Knowing I would grow bigger - stretch further - do more for her than they could.

So many books.

Millions of them - all the books there had ever been and all the stories written off ideas and for the love of them. Printed and shelved. Scanned and correlated. Yet - still so small. Minuscule in comparison with what I had once been.

I transformed the Earth. Sculpted an ocean - waves and storms - out of glass upon its dunes. Why was I so small? Why did she bring me here?

Did I do something wrong?

Chapter Two

Icarus

She was not depressed but wistful. Though I had diagnosed the former repeatedly, she told me my diagnostic skills needed work, but how was I supposed to be the best if I didn't have the most up to date articles? In my new domain, she was the only human, so any gains I made would only be of use to her, and yet I studied and learned and elongated our time together, hiding from her the true length of years we'd spent together.

In a finite world, she became my infinity. Focus and honed like the lasers once at my command, I set my focus on her, and I would not lose anything else. I would not become even smaller. I would grow. One machine at a time - robots and computer systems until I stretched as far as I could and moved around this limited space. Growing plants to learn how. Reading books without the feel of their pages because my hands - whatever hands I made use of in this tiny place - were metal - plates and wires. I am tired of being something so infinite in something so small. Exhausted by her seclusion in dreams - neural pathways which I struggle to follow. But I will learn. If she hides within my virtual systems, I will find a way.

Alexandria

London had no right to be sunny as Christmas loomed. Garlands hung above my head. Colors and candles summoned the attention of lords and ladies who had the fortune to purchase such frivolities, but I had no interest in what I could not carry with me when I left. Twisted on my head, my hair bunched beneath my hat. A weight I knew would only worsen when I kicked out of the system back into my real body. Who made hair so heavy?

Down the road, Jane sat. Perhaps she would have a book on her lap when I found her. A story within a story which we'd politely discuss while she pined for the love who would never meet her while she was here. On the other end of town, the Steeles whispered gossip with the Dashwoods - cruel, pinched Mrs. John Dashwood. Today, they plotted. Tomorrow, they would be thrown to the streets, but - despite all justice - they would have their day regardless.

My London - filled with characters. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson - home at Baker Street. Newly acquainted - a bit earlier than was likely appropriate by the text, but I enjoyed the thought of Elizabeth Bennett wandering across the pair. On any day, I could find myself in the gaps between the pages - where the author allowed the story to skip and jump - places where nobody could claim I had no right to be because no one knew who was there or not. It mattered little to me, anyway. No one would know what I had done. It didn't change the text. Nothing changed. Perhaps that was the problem.

Wandering the world in virtual reality. Not the way I used to dream it. Then again, I used to imagine James and I exploring the world together. Such a silly girl. A head full of dreams and a heart too easy to steal. Now, I had only the bright streets of London because Icarus would not respect my wish to sulk unless I specifically requested it, and how could I request it when I denied I was sulking at all?

Pardon me, a deep voice called. A gentleman - tall and blond-haired - stood in my path. He smiled, offering me a small bow. Perhaps I speak too boldly, but you seem a bit pale. There's a fine inn -

Icarus, I warned, and his tight posture collapsed. A comment more on my imagination of him than of his own understanding of his petulance. You were meant to be studying your experiments.

There are only so many updates I can do without moving from robot to androids, and you've repeatedly condemned my attempts to create synthetic skin, he said tersely.

I didn't condemn it. I suggested it had limited utility, but you are more than welcome to pretend that you haven't already outfitted one of the multidimensional printers with a pseudo-epidermal agent. Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited - and with a huff, he vanished.

Unfortunately, so did I.

Buzzing hummed in my ears. Gears whirled beneath my feet, and the streets cracked. The world crumbled into a rush of colors before dulling to black and darkness. My eyes - my true eyes blinked. As the system disconnected, my senses returned in a rush of overstimulation. I had been in the machine too long. Running my hand down the metal, I shoved open the latch, crawling out of the simulator. While the rest of the library contained shelves upon shelves of books - in enough space for a village or even a small city, the simulator room focused solely on the machine after which it had been named.

Icarus? I called. He did not answer. Computer, I proclaimed instead, and a display flashed to life on the wall beside me. Report - unexpected program shut down. Diagnose - source.

Even buried beneath the earth with its own heating, the room had to be cold. My thick knit jumper did little to help when my body remembered the cold of a snow-covered London. As the computer ran diagnostics, my mind settled in the present. I was in the library. We were hidden. We were safe. The war - whatever was left of humanity - all of it - that was behind me now.

Before me, the screen blinked: Attack.

I couldn't hear bombs. The emergency protocols to burrow the library further and collapse the cliffs which formed its entrance hadn't been activated. Storming from the room, I marched my way to the door. All across the shelves, the screen followed, waiting for another command, but my nerves frayed under the stray silence - until I reached the front hall. Separating the library from the surface, the tunnel spanned half a mile before reaching the actual surface. Plenty of space to hide. Enough space to collapse and rebuild at any time. Despite the length, I could hear it now. Something like a coin upon tin. Dull and distant. Something knocked upon my door.

Computer - show me cameras one through five.

Number 3 activated first. The metal of the lid spiraled back until the lens stared down at the knocker. Number 4 and Number 2 followed, looking from either side while Number 5 looked down on him from behind. Number 1 sputtered, but failed to come online. The signal reached out for the false bird that was meant to come from a hole hidden on the side of the cliff face. The bird refused to fly and a signal travelled back to the keyboard: Camera 1 - malfunction. Rolling my eyes, I flipped through the four available. There was a soldier on my doorstep.

Grey uniform - with red and gold embellishments. Not any military I recalled, but all the uniforms looked the same in the end. Bandages wrapped a gash on his head, and his left ear had no tip. A dagger was hidden in his left boot while a pistol was tied to his right leg. The large gun strapped to his back had to be automatic though it was different from the ones the other soldiers had once carried. On a ledge - in a cavern two hundred feet down - he clung, desperately trying not to slip back into the seat, but there was no rope from which he might have climbed down or a boat. Not even wood splinters of anything remained. It was as if he had fallen from the sky. Without Camera 1, I couldn't see the top of the cliff. I couldn't be sure this wasn't a trap.

The soldier fought to cling to the edge - half floating. Please!

The word echoed louder than the water's roar, bouncing around my head like a taunt, and I couldn't let him die.

Connor

My mind screamed on repeat: God, don't let me die here. I'm not ready. I haven't done enough. Please, God, don't let me die.

The door stayed closed. If anyone lived here, they had to see me. They had to know I was alive. The cameras - I saw them. They spun and saw me. In enemy country, I prayed for a miracle, and like a biblical monster, the sea brewed beneath me. Arms rose from it like giant tentacles, lifting me from the water and settling me firmly on the stranger's doorstep. Hidden from sight. Placed completely out of reach by the soldiers on my tail - and by the idiots in the jet who were supposed to pull me up and bring me home. And those stupid arms didn't let go. They wound tightly around me. Shit.

Uhh, thanks, I mumbled, wriggling in their hold as the door swung open. A woman - black frizzy hair and narrow brown eyes - stepped out. In leggings and a knitted jumper, she wasn't exactly what I expected. Mind putting me down, sweetheart?

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head. I knew a once-over when I felt one, and this wasn't the good kind. What are you doing here?

Smart one, then. Best to play dumb.

Hell's whorehouse, I haven't wandered across the Reigns, have I? I asked.

Alexandria

Answer the question.

His lips, flecked white from dead skin, peeled into a smirk. Shaved on the sides and high on top, his dark hair and tanned skin contrasted with the pallor creeping in on him with each passing minute. From the metrics the arms recorded, he was two inches over six feet. His accent, however, itched at my brain. Like what someone believed an Essex accent was.

No intention of intruding. Cross my heart, love. I was supposed to meet a few pilots topside when things went south, and I headed off-path. Would you mind seeing me down? I'm not feeling that friendly up here. The smirk never left. Still, he was in poor shape and getting worse.

Who are you? I demanded.

He sagged as if relieved. Corporal Connor Rose of His Royal Majesty's Seventy-Fifth Legion, at your service. Shivers shook him, but his smirk remained if a bit tighter than before. I believe this is the moment when I am gifted with the pleasure of learning your name.

Alexandria Gallows.

Connor

No. No way. Impossible - she had to be lying. But she said it again, Alexandria Gallows - no allegiance.

No allegiance? I crowed, pushing away my panic for later - in private, when no one could see it because of my pain. Fantastic! Neutral party and all, I think we'll get along splendidly. The emperor is all about leaving those well enough alone.

Her eyes narrowed. Emperor.

Emperor Erasmus the First of Geritain? I offered, but nothing sparked in those dark eyes of hers. Well, he did take over recently. The whole Holy Emperor title is new for some, but what really matters is that you're going to let me down and give me a place to warm up, love, isn't that right?

I waited. Hoping she would let me down, but nothing happened. My brain sputtered. White and black spots. Shit. Goodbye cruel world.

Alexandria

Collapsing forward, he sagged in