So I did, and in those seven minutes of buffered dodo thoughts, we observed what appeared to be several half-completed buildings and then a woman hunting tortoises, apparently alone on an island. But just as it was getting interesting, the vision feed cut off and the images were gone.

“That’s it,” said the Wingco. “We won’t get any more.”

“It’s not conclusive,” I said, “but the reference to the tortoise hunting sounds like Melville’s ‘Norfolk Isle and the Chola Widow’.”

“That’s not lost,” observed the Wingco.

“No, but Isle of the Cross is most definitely lost, and it was often assumed the survivor might have been a reworking of the lost original. It’s not a hundred-percent proof, but it’s the closest so far to establishing that the Dark Reading Matter exists. Write it all up and get a report over to Commander Bradshaw as soon as you can.”

It was an interesting development, but I had too much on my mind to be either excited or worried about it, and I saw it simply as an ongoing part of my continued interest in the BookWorld, even though I hadn’t been able to read myself into the BookWorld since my accident. It wasn’t simply being physically well enough to cross the the barrier between the real and the read, but also the mental concentration required.

I ordered Tuesday to her room to get some sleep, kissed her good night and then walked upstairs to my bedroom.

“I wonder if I could read myself into the BookWorld while a Day Player?” I mused as I brushed my hair.

“With a brain like that, I’d be seriously surprised if you couldn’t.”

I read until I fell asleep and slept soundly until I woke quite suddenly at four in the morning, thinking I’d heard a noise. I went downstairs to find the TV and the lights on, then made myself a sandwich and some hot chocolate and watched a rerun of The Streets of Wootton Bassett, which was every bit as bad as I remembered.

But the odd thing was, even though I’d made myself a sandwich and a hot chocolate, I couldn’t remember eating them, yet they were gone—so I made myself some more.

I didn’t sleep after that and was still awake when The Early Breakfast Show with Adrian Lush came on at 5:00 A.M. I threw my shoe at the television but missed.

30. Thursday: Budget

30.

Thursday: Budget

Budget meetings have never been interesting, ever, despite numerous attempts over the years to try to josh them up a bit. Notable uplifting techniques involved the use of fire-eaters and performing elephants, but it didn’t work. The dry proceedings are well known to bring on a form of lethargy that can stay for the rest of the week, and Budget Therapy was used with great success in the treatment of patients suffering an excess of good-natured perkiness.