Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 86
"Books!" Castor had a library, but it must amount to a
twentieth of this bounty. The ornately decorated wooden
shelves rose to three times his height, and they covered all the
wall surface. "There must be thousands!"
"Yes," she said. "A tiny portion of the knowledge of the
human race as of one thousand years ago--when Ventus was
settled." She strolled along the shelves, trailing one hand along
the spines. "Ah. Try this one." She pulled a thick volume out.
"You can read, can’t you?"
"A little." The book she handed him was well-made,
leather bound and solid. It had a title written in letters he
knew, but the words made no sense: Baedeker’s Callisto, it
said. He flipped the book open to a random page.
"What language is that?" she asked.
"Not sure..." He puzzled over the text, which was
perfectly inscribed. Actually, he recognized a lot of the words,
and with a bit of puzzling, he could make out what it said. "It’s
a description... of some place where you can eat?"
She looked over his shoulder. "Ah, yes, the Korolev
restaurant strip. I don’t think that exists any more, but the city
of Korolev does." She flipped the page for him; Jordan found
himself looking at a colorful map of roads and towns, all on a
surface strewn with circular formations.
"This is a tourist guide," said Calandria. "For another
world. It’s written in an archaic version of your language.
Now, why would the Winds have books? Aren’t they
omnipotent and all-knowing?"
"I... don’t know."
"Books are for human readers," she said. "As are
armchairs, and lamps. This manse was made for you, Jordan.
But the makers and maintainers no longer know that."
He flipped to another page. This one held a photograph,