Or, to give credit where credit is due, thank William R. Wesgroot for psychic billiards. Had the good ship Fleshpot not come equipped with Dr. Wesgroot’s remarkable invention, we would surely have gone as mad as Vorka victims during our long journey to the Sabik Hydrasteroid Belt. While the game provided a margin of diversion sufficient to keep us from mutilating ourselves or engaging in regrettable sexual practices or talking to the walls or hearing the walls talk back, there was still plenty of boredom to go around. Boredom hovered about us like an unwanted relative. It haunted us like the specter in Zorcyst’s Tactics of the Wraith. Our copings were all in character. Urilla, for example, began writing a draft of Redemption of Things Past, though it soon became obvious that her muse had deserted her somewhere between Zahrim’s ionosphere and the gas planets. Many a time I entered our cabin to find crumpled spheres of paper littering the floor like the residue of a snowball fight and to hear Urilla say, “It’s no good, Quinny!
What do You think about The Continent Of Lies (2014)?
