But the most conspicuous difference was the books. In his own dwelling, there were the necessary reference volumes that each household contained:
a dictionary, and the thick community volume which contained descriptions of every office, factory, building, and committee.
And the Book of Rules, of course. The books in his own dwelling were the only books that Jonas had ever seen.
He had never known that other books existed. But this room’s walls were completely covered by bookcases, filled, which reached to the ceiling.
There must have been hundreds—perhaps thousands—of books, their titles embossed in shiny letters.
Jonas stared at them. He couldn’t imagine what the thousands of pages contained.
Could there be rules beyond the rules that governed the community? Could there be more descriptions of offices and factories and committees?
He had only a second to look around because he was aware that the man sitting in a chair beside the table was watching him.
Hastily he moved forward, stood before the man, bowed slightly, and said, “I’m Jonas.”
“I know. Welcome, Receiver of Memory.” Jonas recognized the man.
He was the Elder who had seemed separate from the others at the Ceremony, though he was dressed in the same special clothing that only Elders wore.
Jonas looked self-consciously into the pale eyes that mirrored his own.
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