Planning for the Expedition

First thing this morning, Kiki Strike and I visited the secret room under the Brooklyn Bridge. No “civilians” have been allowed inside since it was discovered, and even Oona’s handmade press passes didn’t impress the policemen keeping guard when I tried to gain access to the bridge on Thursday. But Kiki had a hunch that we might find an entrance to the room in the Shadow City, and I had a hunch she was right. The bomb shelter may date from the 1950’s, but the bridge itself is much, much older. Just as Kiki suspected, there was a narrow passage leading from a large room with a rat-baiting pit to the hidden chamber under the bridge. (I wonder if the passage was once used to deliver waterfront rodents to the pit below.) It’s nice to know that, even after all of these years, the Shadow City can still continue to surprise us. Kiki and I were able to take a private tour of the Brooklyn Bridge bomb shelter, and Kiki left with a souvenir package of fifty-year-old crackers.

When I got back to my dorm room, I picked up a message from Oona. She’s finished making Columbia ID cards for the Irregulars. (We could have explored the tunnels under the university without them, but it’s always best to be prepared for the worst. Students caught wandering through the tunnel would be one thing—but who knows what might happen to a bunch of suspicious-looking girls with no security passes.) Tomorrow night, the Irregulars will embark on our first expedition through the Columbia tunnels. Although I know nothing could possibly compare to the tunnels of the Shadow City, my head’s still buzzing with excitement.

As for the man in Butler Library, he’s been keeping a very low profile lately. Since my cover was blown in the stacks, DeeDee has been spending late nights studying in the darkness. She’s only caught sight of the man once when he sauntered past her desk carrying a pillow and a bowl of soup. She tried to follow him, of course, but he managed to slip out of sight somewhere in the vicinity of the architecture books.

I should also note that after hunting online for days, I’ve managed to locate a copy of the book the man took from me that night in the library. I've ordered The Untold History of Columbia University from a downtown shop that specializes in rare books, and it should arrive in my mailbox sometime soon. I'm dying to find out why it was of such interest to Butler Library’s only resident.