The Senior Common Room was unusually empty.
Most of the Fellows had wandered across to the library, where a newly completed catalogue was being unveiled.
Mr Blottisham returned looking faintly bewildered.
"I've discovered something extraordinary."
Professor Quillibrace looked up.
"The missing Aristotle?"
"Worse."
"Worse?"
"The catalogue contains books that are not on the shelves."
Quillibrace smiled.
"I should hope so."
"You approve?"
"Entirely."
"I thought catalogues described libraries."
"They do."
"Then why describe books that aren't here?"
Miss Elowen Stray closed the volume she had been reading.
"Are they imaginary books?"
"No."
"Then what are they?"
Blottisham consulted his notes.
"Some have been ordered."
"Yes."
"Some belong to collections still being organised."
"Indeed."
"And some..."
He looked puzzled.
"...exist only because the librarians expect them to arrive."
Quillibrace nodded thoughtfully.
"So the catalogue has begun exploring possibilities."
Blottisham sat down.
"I don't think libraries should speculate."
"No?"
"No. They should contain books."
"They do."
"But not imaginary ones."
Miss Stray smiled.
"Perhaps there is a difference between imagining books..."
"...yes?"
"...and preparing for them."
Quillibrace rose.
"Tell me."
"Yes?"
"Which came first?"
"The shelves."
"The catalogue?"
Blottisham hesitated.
"I suppose..."
"...it depends."
"Quite."
He walked slowly towards the window.
"A good catalogue does more than record what already exists."
"It does?"
"It organises what the library could become."
Blottisham frowned.
"That sounds suspiciously philosophical."
"I fear it is."
For a while they watched students carrying newly acquired books into the reading room.
Miss Stray spoke first.
"I've been thinking about the multiverse."
Blottisham looked relieved.
"So have I."
"Have you?"
"At least, I've been trying."
Quillibrace smiled.
"Most discussions begin by asking whether the multiverse exists."
"A reasonable question."
"Perhaps."
"But perhaps an earlier one is..."
"...yes?"
"...how did anyone begin talking about it?"
Blottisham thought carefully.
"It didn't simply appear."
"No."
"It emerged from inflation."
"Among other places."
"String theory."
"Indeed."
"Quantum mechanics."
"Quite."
Miss Stray nodded.
"So several conversations arrived at similar destinations."
Quillibrace looked pleased.
"A convergence."
"But not necessarily..."
"...yes?"
"...a confirmation."
The fire settled quietly.
Blottisham looked puzzled again.
"So several theories all point towards something similar."
"They may."
"Doesn't that make it true?"
Quillibrace shook his head gently.
"It makes it interesting."
Miss Stray looked towards the library across the quadrangle.
"I wonder whether mathematics sometimes resembles the catalogue."
Quillibrace remained silent.
"It organises possibilities."
"Yes."
"It reveals connections."
"Indeed."
"But the shelves..."
"...yes?"
"...are observation."
Blottisham suddenly laughed.
"So the catalogue may become much larger than the library."
"Temporarily."
"And that isn't necessarily a mistake?"
"No."
"It simply means..."
He paused.
"...the librarians have travelled further than the porters."
Quillibrace laughed aloud.
"A splendid distinction."
They sat together for some time.
Outside, crates of newly arrived books were being unloaded.
The catalogue had anticipated them months before.
Some fitted perfectly into the waiting shelves.
Others would require the library to be reorganised.
A few, no doubt, would never arrive at all.
Miss Stray watched quietly.
"The catalogue is not the library."
"No."
"But without the catalogue..."
"...yes?"
"...the library would never know where it might grow."
The chapel bell sounded the hour.
Blottisham closed his notebook.
"I've always imagined mathematics proving things."
"And now?"
"I wonder whether it also explores them."
Quillibrace smiled.
"My dear Blottisham..."
"Yes?"
"It has been doing both for rather a long time."
They rose together and crossed towards the library.
Inside, the shelves remained reassuringly finite.
The catalogue, however, hinted at collections not yet assembled, books not yet acquired, and subjects not yet fully imagined.
Neither was complete without the other.
As they entered, Miss Stray paused beneath the great catalogue cabinet.
"It seems," she said softly, "that every growing library contains more possibilities than volumes."
Quillibrace nodded.
"And every mature science," he replied, "must occasionally decide whether its catalogue is expanding faster than its shelves."
The librarian, overhearing only the final sentence, looked faintly alarmed.
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