Free The Book by M. Clifford Page A

sense…”
    “Right now, it doesn’t need to.” He waved Holden’s concern away with levity. “Might I also assume that you did not search the internet for an explanation of what you discovered?”
    “No, actually…I didn’t. I really should have.”
    “More luck, I suppose. The important part in all this is that you didn’t blindly search for answers,” he confirmed, before returning the book to its proper place on the shelf. “If you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. An average reader skimming to a random page in their favorite book doesn’t register as odd behavior and no follow-up searches online means no one is tracking the query about alterations. You’re okay so far, but not out of the woods entirely. ”
    “Hold on a second.” Holden opened his jacket and pulled The Book out from his pocket. He lifted the leather cover and watched the screen flash to its dull hue of swamp green before Winston leapt over and slammed it to the table with shocking speed.
    Winston looked down at his hand as if it had been contaminated by touching The Book, but left it there as he continued. Holden didn’t respond. He could see in the man’s eyes that something of greater significance was taking place. “I understand your need for answers. I do. But this is a time to be very brief.” Winston removed his glasses and replaced them with a different pair before unclipping a very fine screwdriver from his pocket and unscrewing the back of Holden’s Book. “You went directly to The Catcher in the Rye when you got here, so I can also assume that it’s the only story you’ve found an inconsistency with…and only on that page. Is that true?”
    “Yeah.”
    “And once you noticed the inconsistency, you did your best to track down an original copy of the book, which is how you came to arrive at my doorstep this morning. Because when you were installing my sprinkler system, you recognized, at some point, that I am a man with books.”
    “Yeah, sorry. I did.”
    Winston nodded as he removed the back cover of The Book and rested the device on the table, revealing the network of chips, plates and blinking lights. He turned The Book over in his hands and began reviewing the digital contents before replacing his glasses and walking over to his shelves. Holden watched in expectation as Winston carefully removed a few books from their resting places and stacked them upon his feeble arms, seemingly at random, before limping his way back to the writing desk. “I guess I will take this time then, to thank you for not telling anyone about the enormous secret I am keeping here. This assures me that I can not only trust you, but that I may be able to rely on you in some fashion.”
    Holden couldn’t keep it in any longer. He had to speak up. “Really, sir. I was only…I mean, I just had this need to find out what the difference was and that’s it. I know you believe what you say, and that’s good and all, but as long as I’ve earned your trust, I’m glad. Because that means I can ask you what I came here to ask. If I could simply borrow this book, I would be forever grateful. I’m not looking to get involved in anything or put myself at risk here by being…you know…in league with someone who…no offense or anything…” Holden stopped when he noticed the look on Winston’s face; it was like a father watching his child attempt to tie a shoelace for the first time.
    “Oh, boy. You really have no idea what you’ve walked into. You found that page. You found one of the last libraries, if not the last library in the entire world that isn’t controlled by our government. Holden, you are at risk.” The crackle of his raspy words was like the resounding gong of the Liberty Bell. Holden wanted to protest, but knew the man was right and watched as Winston, very lightly, laid each of the books he had gathered from the shelves at the center of the circular coffee table.
    One of the books had a cover that had been