The Infinitium Book 2

Ah.

There you are.

I was beginning to wonder whether you’d make it back.

Don’t worry, you’re not late. Time doesn’t really work properly around here anyway. Horatio insists it does, but Horatio also thinks joy should require authorisation forms in triplicate, so perhaps don’t use him as your benchmark for reality.

Now…

Before we go any further, there are one or two things you should probably know.

Firstly, The Management are looking for you.

Which, admittedly, isn’t ideal.

Secondly, they’re also looking for me.

Which is considerably less ideal because I was rather hoping to keep my job this time.

Apparently escorting an Aphrend through The Portal while they were still tethered to their Soul Box is what the professionals refer to as “an unfolding act of professional incompetence.”

Personally, I thought it went rather well.

The paperwork disagrees.

Quite enthusiastically.

So if you happen to see anyone from D.E.A.D., the Harmonic Compliance Office, Internal Intelligence, Reportalisation, Administrative Recovery, or any department whose title contains more than four consecutive nouns…

…we’ve never met.

Good.

Right.

Now then.

Book One answered a few questions.

This one asks whether they were the right questions in the first place.

Because it turns out The Infinitium is rather larger than either of us realised.

There are places even Soul Guides whisper about.

Shops that somehow know exactly what you’ve been searching for your entire life.

Objects that recognise you before you recognise yourself.

People who remember far more than they’re supposed to.

Memories that refuse to stay erased.

Secrets hidden so well that even the people hiding them have forgotten where they put them.

There’s also an administrative conspiracy, an increasingly irritated Horatio Hurn, enough official reports to wallpaper several small galaxies, and a level of managerial concern that can only be described as “someone important has started speaking through clenched teeth.”

Which is generally considered bad.

Especially when you’re the reason.

Again.

You’ll meet old friends.

You’ll meet new ones.

Some of them would very much like to help you.

Some would quite like to file you.

One or two aren’t entirely sure which.

You’ll wander through places where hope can be bought, memories have weight, identity can become contagious, and paperwork occasionally proves more dangerous than monsters.

You’ll discover why The Souk makes The Management nervous.

Why D.E.A.D. keeps losing sleep.

Why Horatio seems perpetually one conversation away from early retirement.

And why I keep insisting that awareness matters far more than certainty.

You don’t need to remember everything.

Not yet.

Just enough.

Enough to notice.

Enough to begin asking different questions.

Enough to look at your own life slightly differently after you’ve closed the book.

If that sounds like your sort of thing…

…the Portal is just behind you.

Take a breath.

Step through.

And whatever you do…

try not to david it up before we’ve even reached Chapter One.

Actually… no. Ignore that. Most of the interesting things around here happened because someone davided it up.