This morning when I woke up, I thought the day was just going to be as boring as the last one. Never thought by the end I would be having tea with a young lady two-hundred years older than me in a library that materialised out of thin air and having a conversation about some people called 'Dark Authors'.

Harriet sat upright in her leather chair with the book she just took turn from the shelf, resting on her lap.

"The Dark Authors want to do harm to the library." She said.

I struggle with anyone wanting to do harm to anyone or anything. What's the point? "Harm, in what way?"

"Not every book in this library comes from this planet. Some have been donated from other worlds. In the hope that one day someone on Earth will be able to understand them and use the knowledge for the better of mankind."

"Sorry, are you telling me...