A writing prompt by 
It had been year's since the lights. That's what we said. Really though it was much more than that.
Voyager II appeared with a bang. It had traveled, gods know how far, with it's golden record and rhetoric of peace. There it was though, one Sunday morning on the White House lawn. Of course, here in Arkansas, we didn't know that. Everything was dead. Everything.
It's stupid how fast a failed society can burn through it's resources at the end. Don't even know if you can visit the Redwoods. The Mississippi is a creek. I've seen it.
I've been told of days when survival was 'broadcasted'. A man and women dropped into 'nowhere'. Clothes optional. This isn't that. It's better. Now.
Yeah, a lot of people died when the power went out. Mothers, fathers, loved ones......kids. "The Mourning."
After "The Mourning" we had "The Culling". It was natural. The weakest, well, there are no weak anymore.
I was born after. I'm Henry 'Hank' Helms. I'm a Librarian.
Us Librarians have always been apart of the government. It's told we used to be the bottom. Things change.
Now we're envoys, soldiers, investigators. If there is written information we will take it. If it needs delivered we travel by threes. If we don't have it, we will.
We don't have names, not officially, just Dewey's. Numbers.
I'm young and fit and sent on retrievals, more often than not. This is one of those.
The train barrels towards St. Louis. The Gateway to the West. Gods bless coal. West Virginia is a Mint.
I'm after a copy of Automatons, Man or Machine 5th edition.
It doesn't answer any real life question. We would need 'power'. There's been a premium run on these type of books lately. Machine Learning, C++, Python and not the snake.
These books, despite opinion at the time, were printed in mass quantities. Nine billion people. After 'The Culling' just two.
This was a call in. The powers at be used precious resources to reward anyone that could bring a 'Bounty Book' to light. Science, Medicine, the like.
This family had discovered Automatons amongst their ailing patriarchs things. I was to bring it back. Simple.
St. Louis was a War Zone.
I was wearing standard Librarian garb. Leathered coat and thick denim pants. We had, at the outset, issued breastplates but the likelihood of encountering gunfire dropped significantly after the early years.
We had been trained. It was joked that Librarians could beat Olympians. We wouldn't know. The Olympics left with 'The Culling'.
Union Station was dirt. The teased meat and dancing girls aside, I loathed the Cardinal.
There were some folk, after the outage, that took up special office where it hadn't been before. One of these was St. Louis's very own Cardinal. Corpulent and dreary.
"Did you ask them about the river?" The greasebag said.
"Jesus, I just arrived."
"Yeah, but you promised me Dewey."
"I promised I'd ask."
The Mighty Missasip. Just a lifeline. It keeps a rough and tumble lot full circle and shinin'.
I'm swarmed.
The lack of love for government doesn't stop kids.
"I'm looking for, " points at picture "This man, this man. Ci?"
Promises of contact, filth and duty. I wish I didn't know this language..
I take my seat in the handsome. Target identified.
"Ralph Swanson."
"Yeah man, it's on the tour. Sit back and relax .... "
"......this gringo was first.........he found...........ever since.."
"Stop!" I yelled.....
Hopping down.
Librarian.
Voyager II was gone. Power was back. Nobody knows why. I'm still a librarian.
"Yessir, by next Tuesday or it's late."
