An hour later they were back in Sargon’s office, giving him their report.

Then Erd told Slammer, “Your brother. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

Slammer replied, “There will be a memorial service eventually. Not right away, without the body. I want you to speak there, tell them he died a hero.”

Erd nodded his head deeply. “I will. I always wanted a brother, so I know how hard this must hit you.”

The other remained silent, but it was a companionable silence. He let it remain for awhile.

Then Erd asked, “Can we check on Buzz?”

Sargon replied, “I already have. He has been given several transfusions of icor, and will be out of bed in a couple of days. In a sevenday he should show little sign of having been injured.”

Hex added, “Just in time for our expedition next week. We going to try one of those other worlds?”

Erd asked Sargon, “Are we absolutely sure that my uncle disappeared from one of the three cities you showed my pictures of before?

“By no means. They are the three most likely possibilities.”

He continued, “It seems there is a grapevine of sorts, and word about this team of Guardians and their investigative techniques has gotten out. Is there any other way we can verify which gate is being used to send elders to an unregistered and uncontacted world?”

“If so I already would have done it.”

Erd had an idea. Both he and his uncle Lord Regal were Green River Friends after all.

“Maybe we could ask the River.”

The River was an artificial intelligence constructed many millennia ago by several species of the Eightfold in concert. Some of the secrets of its construction had been forgotten since then. It had also become somewhat schizophrenic due to the way it’s nanotechnological elements were clumped up on different planets. Furthermore, some of the most advanced species of the Eightfold had declined intellectually after becoming dependent on the River – until it announced it would only assist them in the case of an emergency, and told them what they had to do to convince it there was an emergency.

Sargon replied, “That’s an idea. It often hears more than it lets on. Unfortunately, it may not wish to speak to us.”

Doc’s voice changed suddenly, and it was clear he was speaking as himself rather than Sargon. “I’ll tell you what. We sometimes do Augmented Reality gaming. If you’ll come with us to the Memory Palace and come on the quest to visit the River in its tower, if we succeed in AR I’ll rule the party succeeded in talking to the AI.”

But if Doc really believed all this might be real on some level, that Simon had some weird connection with Lord Regal, how could he even suggest this? Surely the game was the only link he had?

How could the other man put him in this position? If he was really a psychiatrist, surely he wouldn’t toy with Simon even if he thought he were crazy.

Simon tried to marshal his thoughts into words, uncertain what if anything the Delirium and his own personal humiliation together would let him say. He didn’t even know what the other people in the room knew or believed, although he had hung out with them a couple of times. He glanced around him.

Carlos said, “Did you ever read ‘Triuniversal Symphony’?”

Simon nodded. It was one of the bestselling books in the Eightfold franchise, an established part of the cannon.

The other went on, “Well, the Master of Illusion and his friends did almost exactly that. They substituted a real trip to the River’s tower for one inside an RPG. Somehow the two adventures worked in parallel and they kept the link with their characters.”

Simon blinked. There was something funny here somewhere, but the argument sort of made sense. And Doc had suggested it.

The other problem was much more pedestrian, and embarrassing to voice.

“I don’t have the money for that right now. I’m sorry.”

It came out sounding lamer than he had expected. He hoped there were no followup questions.

Doc told him, “I have a delux subscription. I can get you in as a guest.”

Simon was pretty sure that Doc would have a very limited number of guest passes, and they might not cover everything. “That’s very generous, but I still want to know why you’d do that.”

Belatedly he realized a normal person wouldn’t have answered that way, a normal person might have found a way to make a friend.

Doc replied, “I think it might help with your problem. Perhaps even with humanity’s problem. I can afford it.”

So he didn’t think Simon was crazy – or did he? What kind of problem did he hope to help cure?

Simon looked around the table, wondering how many of them thought he was crazy or stupid.

Carlos said, “Just like I told everyone before. You’d give in if we could justify it with an Eightfold reference. How long did it take you and Doc to cook this up?”

Simon opened his mouth to issue a denial, then closed it again. He wasn’t even sure what if anything he could say without the Delirium taking control. Carlos sounded pleased with himself rather than angry. Simon decided he’d rather be thought of as a failed manipulative gamer than a madman or fool.

He asked, “How could you tell?”

The other held his hands out palm up, as if revealing the obvious. “Well, it’s a part of the game. I’m betting you really do have insomnia though. Feel like talking about it?”

Simon shrugged. “You know how sometimes you don’t feel like going to sleep because you’re reading a good book or watching something on television and if you do you’ll wake up and have to go to work? So you stay up late and you’re tired and you take a nap later, so you’re not tired when you need to go to sleep, and it keeps happening until you’re totally turned around? Not much more to talk about.”

This had in fact happened to Simon a few years ago. Apparently he wasn’t the only one, because Carlos nodded knowingly.

He said cheerfully, “You two need to up your game. The rest of us are going across the street for pizza while you talk behind our backs. You got about half an hour before the library kicks you out.”

Pizza sounded good, and Simon liked the idea of hanging out with the others. Maybe he could make a few friends. Before he could say anything, Doc made a beckoning gesture with a hand the others couldn’t see. Doc really did want to talk with him alone.