[ Is the Archive a fan of her? This book came out when her grandmother was the Archive and she didn't have the same enjoyment of math. Still, she knows this book and all the other books Theoni Pappas has written, and some of them have come out in her life. But is she a fan? No one has ever asked if she's a "fan" of any writing before. In lieu of giving an answer she cannot provide, she provides what she can: more facts. ]

Ms. Pappas' books are generally written for a younger audience. I find that they give breadth but not depth to mathematical concepts. Perhaps that suits the age she is aiming to write for.

[ The Archive lets her gaze wander over the books on the shelves. So many books she's never heard of. It's strange to look at a book and not know everything about it. Every rough draft, every deleted or crossed off word, every note from the editor. Is this what it's like for people? To look at a spine and be faced with a mystery? It feels like it should grab her interest, she should want to open up these books and pour over the contents, see what she's missing. Instead the thought of so much she doesn't know is mildly terrifying. The Archive is glad for her experience in stoicism. ]

Perhaps. While I recognize some titles they are by far the minority. Wherever they are from, it is not my world; as the Archive I can say that for certain.

I hold humanity's written knowledge. An archive of it. What is written I know and understand.

[ She's going to have to get used to explaining this. Back home everyone (or almost everyone) she needed to interact with knew what she was. But there are probably no Archives in the scattered universes that have melded here, or at least not ones that are known or go by the same title. She doesn't mind explaining, it's hardly a secret what she is, and the sensitive information she holds likely would mean nothing here. ]

Yes, I am a fourteen year old human. The Archive passed to me when I was born, as it passes from mother to daughter.

[ That at least is a common misconception, that the Archive is somehow not human. No, she is human in every way, despite the magic construct she bears. She can tell however that he understands more than anyone she's met so far the implication of what the Archive means. That's reassuring, in a way, to be appreciated as she is. ]

You are correct, the Archive is a magical construct, and the Archives live strict lives to ease the burden on future Archives; our memories as the Archive are passed down with it. I know my mother, as she knew hers, and so on.

[ For better or for worse. The knowledge is valuable, but the knowledge can also be painful; to know exactly what drove her mother to such a length, to know exactly how her mother felt about her. ]

No, not in the way you're thinking. When I say "humanity" it's a generalization for ease of understanding. It would be more accurate to say that everything written by a living being where I'm from is known to me. Both by hand and by keyboard, since the invention of computers. But it must originate from a living being; the code a programmer writes to create an application I know, the compiled binary as the computer understands and executes I do not. In the same way text-to-speech I know, but an audio file I do not.

[ The fact that he's in sciences and is asking precise questions like this makes her believe he'll understand the nuance of her explanation, so she doesn't hold back on the details. ]

No, I do not appear to. I do not know why. There is only fantastical literature where I originate that touches upon the idea and functionality of the multi-verse theory. And I do not mind answering your questions so long as they do not break my prescribed neutrality.

[ That is, of course, the hard limit. The Archive will not allow her to do so, though she doesn't think they'll reach that point. ]

I am not allowed to provide knowledge that would benefit one side or another, even outside of a direct conflict. Despite my extensive knowledge I do not know all the permutations of how the Archive's knowledge will impact the lives of others, so it is not shared out. The Archive did not believe the information I shared with you about this book would provide you with an advantage, therefore I was able to tell you. It is not a rule that is up to me to break, the Archive enforces it. My own desires are irrelevant outside of the basic willingness to hold a conversation.

[ There are plenty of things she can say, but given the vastness of the Archive's knowledge, most of it she cannot. Even something so basic as a grocery list could give someone the edge they need in something such as an investigation. ]

[ That's... how does she explain this? ]

All of my memories, what I thought, how I felt, will get passed to my daughter, and her daughter, and so on for perpetuity. They will recall it all perfectly. I am human so I cannot stop myself from having opinions or feelings, but I hope I conduct my life in a way that will not burden them.

[ That is to say, she is doing her best to avoid attachments, avoid feeling too much. She hopes to give them a better life than she was born into. Most of all she hopes she will love them above everyone else. ]

[ That's a sufficient answer. The Archive is only 14, even with thousands of years of memories she doesn't understand the nuance of his reply. She thinks he understands her intentions. ]

It's nice to meet you, Mister Finch. I do not have a given name, I am simply the Archive.

[ Even though she would never go by it now, she was never given a name. Her mother never thought of her as a name. Even in her memories of the brief time her mother was the Archive there was never a name. ]

[ The thing with being around people who do not see her as the Archive is that they apply all these "normal people" rules to her. Having a name seems to be a sticking point. Are people so attached to their names? It's true the name that Harry Dresden gave her is one she holds dear; the first time someone thought of her not as the Archive. It was a thrill that first time, and while it doesn't feel as special now there's still something... soft in her chest. ]

No, I have no given name. What would you call me?

[ It's the same offer she made Harry: pick a name, if you're so insistent on me having one. ]

[ Oh. He actually picked one. There's something warm and fluttery inside as she thinks about it, rolls it around in her mind. Crows and their closest siblings are remarkable birds, highly intelligent and playful as well. ]

Why Corvus? Do you like birds?

[ She doesn't actually have any issues with the name, she's mostly curious. ]