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Deal 1034: To sleep, perchance

Sydney fell asleep.

Perhaps that would be better said as Sydney fell, asleep.

He had just sat down under a tree to contemplate his circumstance when he dozed off. The next thing he knew, he was in a very lucid dream. The orchard was still around him, but the trees were more present than before. A frog ran past him muttering obscure theorems from set theory. A crow ran the other way muttering something about being afraid to fly. He took a step in the direction the frog had gone and stepped in a hole he hadn’t seen before and fell.

As he fell, he looked around. The sides of the hole were smooth. He couldn’t see the bottom, and looking up couldn’t see where he’d stepped in. He realized he was holding an axe. After wondering what strange message his subconscious was trying to send him, he took a wild swing at the passing wall. It popped, and he was back in the orchard, watching himself sleep.

He looked around. Everything was still in that hyperreal form that indicated he was dreaming.

The fruits of the trees were practically glowing. He picked an apple. It had a message written on its skin: “How boring. Try again.” He shrugged and went to look at the pears. He picked a particularly ripe yellow pear and ate it without triggering any strange additional loops.

He walked back to his campsite, stepping carefully around the large hole he’d missed earlier. He failed to see the large frog smirking from under a tree nearby, though. It didn’t seem concerned about him otherwise, though.

As he sat and watched himself sleep, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed the lack of music. Back in the real world, he had always been uninterested in music while everyone around him obsessed about it and its performance. Here, he hadn’t noticed any yet, nor had he noticed anyone obsessed about it. It struck him as important. But that still might have been the dream talking.

He also noticed that a certain dragon hadn’t appear yet. He decided that was probably just as well, for his continued health.

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Deal 1028: No Ravens

After seven tries, Sydney found the secret to opening the tower. But by that point, Raven had completely lost interest, and was busy arguing with herself from several openings in the parapet. Sydney was a tad nervous about actually entering the tower that seemed so willing to entrap people, so he finally gave up and picked a different path.

Back on the main road, he continued towards the distant town. Which, interestingly, didn’t seem any closer even after a day of walking towards it. That made him wonder just how far it was.

Right about then, he stubbed his toe on a rock at the side of the road. Looking closer, he realized it was a milestone, and that he’d seen more like them along the way. This one simply read “43”. No hint about units, or origin. He decided to look at the next one he encountered.

After nursing his stubbed toe, and a light snack while resting, he set off down the road.

He idly wondered as he walked what he would do if he encountered a fork in the road.

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Deal 1017: Hitchhiker’s log excerpt

Day 1017, probably

That infernal beeping has started again. Somewhere in this house, a smoke alarm or something like it wants feeding. But the damn thing just goes “peep” once every five to ten minutes. It’s just enough noise to tell you something is wrong, but not enough noise to let you locate the origin of the sound, and spaced too far apart for anyone to remain attentive and hear a second alert with enough presence of mind to find it. It is going to either drive me insane, or run its battery out completely and go silent forever.

I’m hoping for the latter, and betting in the former.

Either way, I’ve added a note to the growing report that whoever finds me may or may not bother to read. The very report that you might be reading right now. If “you” exist, that is.

If I stop believing that “you” exist, then I will be sufficiently free of sanity to believe anything at all in short order.

So I choose to believe that updating this note is worth my time and effort.

It has to be.

Or I’ve wasted so much time.

I say this is day 1017, but I’m not absolutely certain of that. I don’t have an easy way to tell the passage of time, so I’ve been counting days as times between sleeps. My clocks never worked well, and as you would expect given where I’m sitting, I don’t really have windows or a view that tells me much at all.

I’ve tried asking the bear if he knows what time it is, but he is concentrating on the problem of getting us out of here, and doesn’t answer.

The chickens aren’t any help, either. They just sit around and mutter to themselves most of the time. Occasionally one lays me some breakfast. Of course, the chickens have become fiercely protective, and I usually have to go in disguise to collect eggs without suffering from another beating at the talons of their rooster.

I can tell I’m slowly going mad no matter what else I do. I play chess, but HAL keeps beating me. I watch old flat movies, but I’ve forgotten so much from before, that too many of them make no sense. It is becoming difficult to tell fact from fiction. Did some joker back home name my computer HAL on purpose? Should that worry me? What aren’t they telling me?

Am I sounding paranoid again? Probably time to go check the chickens for breakfast.

I’m pretty sure that when I’m sleeping, HAL or one of his unnamed friends taps my thoughts and rewrites my dreams. I don’t know why they do this. But I’m increasingly sure they do.

So I try not to think about it.

I try to remain sane.

I try to not care so much about where I am going, or what will happen when I get there.

I have my bindle, I’m aboard my car, and there’s little I can do until the ride stops rolling.

Until then, I can talk to the bear, play chess with HAL, watch a movie, or chase another chicken.

Or sleep.

And watch my sanity leach away into the darkness.