Mrs. Eunice Krupp, the chief librarian, noticed that the books on Politics, International were growing more numerous all the time. Mrs. Krupp, who looked very much the archetypal sour old librarian, was really a nice person (kind to animals and children and all that), but she knew that she could not allow a massing of books along the border between Politics, International and Philosophy, Eastern, and resolved to speak to her assistant, Mr. Brock, about the situation.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Mr. Brock innocently responded to Mrs. Krupp’s allegations.
“Mr. Brock,” Mrs. Krupp insisted, “I know that you have no love lost for Philosophy, Eastern, and I suspect that you are building up your books on the Politics, International front for an impending invasion. How much plainer can I state the case?”
“I assure you, Mrs. Krupp,” Mr. Brock stated, “that I have no desire to control the Philosophy, Eastern section. I am quite happy with where fate has chosen to place Politics, International, even though, as you well know, Philosophy, Eastern does have a favourable position by the window…”
“Mrs. Krupp grew angry. “And, as you know, Mr. Brock, the Politics, International section is right under the heat duct, not a completely disadvantageous area itself!”
Mr. Brock perfunctorily waved his hand, but said nothing.
“Don’t set your sights on my section,” Mrs. Krupp continued. “As long as you remain within your sphere of influence, we may be able to live in peace.”
“My sphere of influence?”
“Don’t think I’m not aware of it,” Mr.s Krupp told Mr. Brock. “Through Politics, International, you control Politics, Canadian, Politics, American, Political Science and, further east, you have a great deal of say in what goes on in Criminology, Economics, Mathematics…need I go on?”
Mr. Brock continued to protest his innocence, but Mr.s Krupp was unconvinced, and warned him that she would be monitoring the situation very closely. If Mr. Brock had felt properly chastised about his role in the affair, he didn’t show it.
Mrs. Krupp, as any good librarian ought to, worried constantly about the state of her books. What was really happening in Politics, International? Could this be some sort of diversionary tactic, taking her attention away from a potential attack on another front? Mrs. Krupp couldn’t see it; Philosophy, Western, acted as a perfect buffer between Philosophy, Eastern and Economics to the west. No – if there was trouble, it would come directly from Politics, International.
Trouble wasn’t long in coming. Two days later, The Third World War, by General Sir John Hackett, appeared in Philosophy, Eastern. Mrs. Krupp immediately sought Mr. Brock and confronted him with it.
“What does it mean?” Mr. Brock asked, still claiming innocence.
“This book,” Mrs. Krupp made it very clear for him, “was caught spying in the Philosophy, Eastern section. I consider this a blatant act of aggression, and I will not allow it!”
Mr. Brock looked shocked. “Mrs. Krupp,” he protested, “Eunice. This is a ridiculous allegation. A book – one book, accidentally found its way into your section. It was likely put in the wrong place by a patron who didn’t know they should not reshelve books themselves. And, here you are, ready to start World War Three. This is really too much!”
“Don’t think I don’t know what your book was doing!” Mrs. Krupp, abandoning years of library training, shouted. “It was checking out our defenses, relaying valuable strategic information to you!”
Mr. Brock’s denials were futile, and Mrs. Krupp refused to return the book to its proper section. No matter: soon, the battle was entered into in earnest. Politics, International launched a full-scale invasion of the top shelf of Philosophy, Eastern, while battling a strong force on the bottom shelf. While it was doing well on the upper front, a counter-attack from below had not been expected, and, on the whole, Politics, International was losing as much shelf space as it seemed to gain.
The battle went on for weeks, with each side receiving aid from its allies throughout the library. At first, Politics, International seemed outmanned, but Mr. Brock was a brilliant tactician, and each defeat seemed to signal renewed effort towards an even greater victory.
Not long after the war was entered into, complaints about the strange behaviour of the library staff started pouring into library headquarters downtown. An inspector was dispatched when it was discovered that the chief librarian refused to answer the telephone. Thus, it came as a great surprise to all sides when Mr. Davison showed up.
He listened to Mrs. Krupp at length. Then, he heard Mr. Brock’s version of events. While he found it hard to believe that Mr. Brock was as innocent of wrong-doing as he claimed, he was willing to admit, at least privately, that Mrs. Krupp seemed inordinately paranoid. In the end, he decided to speak to them together.
“This ‘war’ the two of you have engaged in,” Mr. Davison lectured them, not bothering to hide his contempt, “is extremely childish and, quite frankly, intensely disappointing. You should both be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves, although, somehow, I doubt you will have such grace.
“This library was set up for the benefit of the people of this community. It was not set up so that the two of you could wage this ridiculous battle for some imagined territorial advantage. This sort of thing will not happen again. Is that clear?”
In the end, Mr. Brock was transferred to a different library, which, by all accounts, suited him fine. He was replaced by a young woman named Nadine Devereaux.
Mrs. Krupp welcomed Nadine with open arms, but secretly resolved to watch her very closely…