Story description: When a librarian and crotchety linguist study a book of prophecy, they realize they're in danger from the person who hired them. Fortunately a spaceship captain and a stowaway thief are planning a rescue.

A/N: Chocolate Box treat. I couldn't decide between two prompts, so I combined them into one story. Double the challenge, double the romance, double the fun!

The Rescue of the Oracle

"Captain, I found a stowaway!"

Captain Lou shook her head at the young security officer. "Took you long enough. We left port more than two days ago."

The stowaway grinned. "I'm very good." She winked. "Except for when I'm very bad."

"C'mon," the captain said. "Time for a staff meeting."

The crew and stowaway gathered on the bridge, Lou's favorite part of her beloved ship. It wasn't straight-out-of-the-showroom new, but the workstations and furnishings had been so lovingly cared for that visitors usually guessed the ship was less than a year old. Lou had purchased it five years ago.

"We were found in violation of a trade embargo," Lou announced to the ship's crew. "Last month, when we took a shipment of rare books to the Library of Dead Languages, one of those books was a cultural treasure that had been stolen from its society of origin. They tracked the book to our shipment. The verdict was rendered during our shore leave. We're banned from delivering any more cargo until the book is returned."

The crew erupted in dismayed protests.

"I know," Lou said. "There's no way we could have recognized it as stolen. The theft hadn't even been reported yet when we delivered it. That doesn't change the company policy, the one we all agreed to when we signed on to be haulers. The transfer of goods shall do no harm to the makers of those goods. In this case there was cultural harm, and the company will make every effort to undo that harm."

"The company," scoffed Vi. She was Lou's second-in-command. "They delegated their responsibility fast enough."

"We're still being paid, same as if we were on a job," Lou said. "It could be worse."

"So we're flying back to the library to retrieve one book?" Vi asked.

"Not exactly," said Lou. "Turns out the 'library' we delivered it to was a fake. The real library doesn't have any of the books from our shipment. Checking our records, the energy signature of their engines was of a cultural treasures vehicle, but it was one that had been decommissioned. A private owner purchased it more than a year ago and must have updated it to match the look of the Library of Dead Languages."

"They went to a lot of effort to fool us," Vi said.

"Exactly. The book in question is both extremely valuable and extremely dangerous. Thus the importance of retrieving it."

"How are we supposed to take it back? The company must have already asked the purchaser to return it and threatened sanctions without any luck. We're not a combat ship," objected their security officer. "I'm trained in keeping our ship and computers safe. I don't have any experience in battle tactics."

"It takes a thief to catch a thief," said their stowaway. She had melted into the shadows — a particular talent of hers — and now she stepped forward. "That's where I come in."

"Everyone, this is Kei," Lou announced.

Vi groaned. "Not your ex."

Another crew member looked puzzled. "Your ex? I saw you together on our last shore leave. It looked like a... umm... you know... a casual hook up."

"It's complicated," said Lou, "and it's not important right now. What we need to focus on is Kei's professional identity."

"You may know me as Chaos," Kei explained.

Gasps followed that bit of news. Chaos was a famed thief and con artist, who'd never been caught. Her misdeeds were legendary.

"So here's what we need to do," Kei said, and she outlined her plan.

###

It had been a long week at the Library of Dead Languages. Maddie hated to complain. Well, no, Maddie complained pretty much constantly. It was her vibe, and she wasn't going to change who she was, not when crotchety had been her identity since childhood.

But in this case it felt particularly rude to complain. The invitation to work here was a once-in-a-career opportunity. As good as Maddie was as a linguist — and she was excellent, thank you very much — there were several people more senior in her field who had astoundingly not been available for this work.

Or maybe they had valid reasons to pass up on it. The work itself was strenuous. A person in her field often spent a week on a single book, as these were tomes designed to make human brains do such strenuous mental calisthenics that the effort led to the frequent need for a stiff drink and a long nap. She'd gone through three such books already, and still had seven more to go.

And then, in addition to the effort, there was the relative lack of reward. Oh, the money was good. Generous even, but the true reward for a linguist who specialized in dead languages was discovery. The three books she'd reviewed thus far were new to her, but not new to the field. Other than the entree into the library itself, there was nothing truly impressive to be gained from this assignment.

Furthermore, to say she had entree into the library was a bit of an overstatement. It would look good on her resume to say she'd been here, but she'd hoped to see the other rooms the library was famous for. Thus far she'd been limited to this workroom, her cabin, and a combined kitchen and entertainment area. Those were well stocked as such things go, but both she and Amita were itching to browse the other books in the collection.

Amita was the librarian who'd come along for this assignment. She was responsible for cataloging the books. In addition to documenting the materials, the condition, and the origin of each item, she needed a linguist to dive into the content for the final categorization. Amita hadn't said anything about it aloud — unlike Maddie she wasn't crotchety — but her disappointment in finding each book already catalogued in the official librarians' registry had been obvious.

Maddie opened book number four and groaned.

"Headache?" Amita asked, ready to retrieve the painkillers linguists like Maddie relied on.

"Always," Maddie said as she scanned the opening pages. It wasn't just that the content writhed beneath her eyes. These days the only books still maintained physically rather than digitally were the ones where either the physical form was intrinsic to the meaning, or where the content varied in ways that a computer couldn't emulate. This was one of the latter. "Swirly text again. Makes me wish I'd had a lighter lunch." What made this book particularly annoying was that the words were specifically addressing her. Already her name had appeared in the swirls. "It's a language that tries to get into your head. This one's going to take time." She closed the book, needing to get into the right mental state before making another attempt to read it.

"What's the language?" Amita asked. Thus far she'd recognized the language of each book they'd reviewed, but only knew one of them well enough to read some of the passages.

"It's..." Maddie paused, her mind a blank. "Shit. It's one of those languages."

For the first time since they'd met a week ago, Amita looked confused.

"The ones that make you forget what you read as soon as you close the book. We have to be strategic about this one. I need you to track the time for me, make sure I don't let it stay open more than ten minutes at once. I'll make as many notes as I can in those ten-minute windows, and then I'll review my comments with the book closed to make sure they're clear."

"What are some of the languages that can do that?" Amita asked. She probably already knew, but was trying to help Maddie clear her head.

"The mildly psychic ones are the most common, used for books where the point of view and even the plot can change to suit the reader."

"Wouldn't those only clear from your memory after you reach the end of the story? Otherwise you'd be lost if you set the book aside to finish later."

Maddie nodded. She might not remember which language this had been, but it felt much more intense than what she'd just described.

On the next try, Maddie started speaking her notes into a recorder. Then abruptly she stopped speaking and started writing, instead, because this was not anything she wanted their guards to hear. Because damn it, those weren't just assistants ready to help, they were guards, keeping watch to make sure Maddie and Amita didn't figure out too much, didn't try to escape.

The language was one of the scarier types, used for prophecy and advising leaders. You were supposed to keep the book open long enough to gain full insight and make a decision, then announce that decision and close the book. Closing the book indicated that the time for questions had passed, and it was time to act.

What the book told Maddie was that they'd been chosen for this project because they were just talented enough to do the work, but not experienced enough to recognize the library was a fake. They weren't allowed to browse the other books because there were no other books.

Amita called time, and Maddie scrambled to add a few more notes before Amita closed the book.

"Well?" Amita asked.

Maddie reviewed her notes, appalled anew at what they'd gotten themselves into. And she couldn't tell Amita, not with the guards listening to every word they said. At least her notes were in a dead language and filled with acronyms and her own personal shorthand, so if they got hold of what she'd written they probably couldn't interpret it. But if Maddie and Amita were going to get out of this alive, they needed to play for time, and Amita deserved to know what was going on.

"It's a book of prophecy that feels like it was written by someone on mind-altering drugs. Let's keep it to seven minutes next time, with at least a three-hour break before we try again."

One of the guards left, probably to report their progress and the expected delays to a boss. It was a good news / bad news kind of update, with hopefully enough good news that the boss wouldn't interfere with Maddie's slowed-down progress.

"I need a mental palate cleanser," Maddie declared. "Let's give you Gaskan lessons." Gaskan was the one dead language they'd encountered so far that Amita had been able to read.

To her credit, Amita didn't object to the odd request. They started with basic vocabulary, a few spoken words that could be useful if Maddie needed to warn Amita to run or hide. Then they moved on to the written form of the language. Bit by bit, Maddie shared the news of their predicament. Amita pretended to struggle with elements of grammar as she read Maddie's news and then wrote out questions for clarification.

At least Maddie had the comfort of knowing that someone who hadn't been exposed to the book's psychic influences agreed that her concerns about this job were reasonable.

###

"You had to involve your ex," Vi said accusingly when she and Lou were alone.

"She's the best at this kind of thing," Lou said. "Let's face it, we don't have many options. Do you know another career criminal who can break into a cultural treasures ship? The security on those things is legendary."

"I get it, but you and Kei... She broke your heart, Lou. The rest of the crew weren't around to see how much that messed you up. Do I have to tell you how concerned I am to hear that you've been hooking up?"

"We're keeping it casual this time," Lou said. "It won't be the same."

"She's sleeping in your quarters."

"We don't have guest quarters. Anyway, she isn't sleeping with me. She's up all night working on her plans, and catching cat naps during the day. It's not just the book she needs to rescue, you know. Whoever fooled us into giving them the book also roped a librarian and a linguist into helping them interpret it."

"So we have to extract two people? What if they're in on it?" Vi asked.

"Their reputations are solid. The most likely scenario is that they're as innocent as we were. But they've been gone for a week now. Who knows how much time they have left before the book's new owner decides they're expendable?"

"I get it," Vi grumbled. "We need Kei, for now. But when this is all over, will you finally break things off with her?"

"I have. Every time I leave I tell her it's really the end, and we can't see each other again." Lou shrugged. "We keep breaking up, but it never lasts."

###

The next time Maddie opened the book, it focused more on future possibilities rather than the current situation.

Therefore she was ready two hours later, when a famous thief snuck into the workroom. Maddie and Amita had already given the guards a tea dosed with Maddie's painkillers that had knocked them out, and Maddie had the book wrapped in protective layers for their trip from the fake library to the rescue ship.

When they were left at a transport station to make their way home, Maddie told Amita one last secret. "The book said you were falling in love with me."

"Really?" Amita asked, eyes wide with surprise. "Does that mean the feelings are all on my side?"

"No," Maddie assured her. "I've already fallen. I'm just waiting for you to catch up."

###

When Lou and Kei handed the book over to the elders of the society it belonged to, one of the matriarchs asked them to join her inside her home. There she chanted a few words and opened the book that her people called the oracle. "I can see you need advice," she told them. "Consider this an offering of thanks."

A few minutes later, they stood outside taking in what they'd heard.

"I knew you were afraid of commitment," Lou said.

"There hasn't been anyone else," Kei said. "The oracle was right about that. It's only you. It's just that I was terrified when you talked about settling down. That's why I ran. But when I got your message that you wanted to break things off permanently, all I wanted was to be with you."

"And each time I tell you it's through, that we can't see each other again, it makes you want me more."

Kei nodded. "Has there been anyone else for you? I thought Vi might want to take my place."

"Vi's my best friend in the world, but she's not interested in me romantically. Honestly, I don't particularly like being distracted by romance on my ship. That's my work, and I need to be focused. Being with you — and only you — during shore leave has been perfect for me."

"And as long as you tell me at the end of each shore leave that we're over, I'll never want anyone else."

"The oracle was right," Lou said. "What we have sounds kind of messed up, but it works for us. We should enjoy it and not worry about what anyone else thinks."