text: [Themes: Tales from Castle Balderstone, Comedy, multiple protagonists, horror, castle, space]
  
  ]  Lounge
  
  Good evening. My name is Ryan Veeder. It is my great pleasure, in this festive and frightening season, to welcome you once again to Castle Balderstone: America's legendary hotbed of horror, a treasure trove of the morose, macabre, and monstrous. Its crooked pinnacles continue to slash blasphemously against ever-present clouds; its grim silhouette is still a stain of absolute blackness in the midst of a black sky.
  
  This year, as they did last year—as they do every year—the greatest spookcrafters working in the English language have assembled in Castle Balderstone's drafty halls to test their latest material on the only audience possessed of hearts so inured to terror as to withstand the absolute scariest stories—each other.
  
  Tonight, once again, you are my plus-one to this wedding of the weird and the wicked.
  
  You lie on the couch and look up at the stars. A little while later, you fall asleep.
  
  Some unmeasured time later you awaken. The stars haven't moved; all is quiet.
  
  You stand up, stretch, shake your arms and legs a little. The professor disapproves of your sleeping on the couch, so you have to enjoy the opportunity whenever you can get away with it.
  
  This was designed to be a cozy hangout spot, with as many amenities as could be crammed into the limited space: a TV, a microwave, a decent couch. You still spend most of your time here, but you stopped actively enjoying it a while ago. Even the skylight has become so much wallpaper for you; the view never changes.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  [Author's Note: Another anthology of terror, edited by Ryan Veeder, again.]
  
  > examine the microwave
  The microwave is a mess. You really need to clean it up before the professor has a chance to yell at you about it.
  
  > Examine tv
  On the screen is the dim image of a sad battery. You must have left it on while you were sleeping! Now it'll need a few days to recharge. Darn.
  
  > look at the couch
  There's a distinctly you-shaped depression in the eidetic foam. Hopefully that'll flatten itself out before the professor notices.
  
  > examine the skylight
  A curtain of a million stars hangs outside the skylight: Always the same stars, never changing position. The view has become just as breathtaking as any cave wall.
  
  > go east
  Your quarters are so small that the professor can't even fit inside, which at least means they afford some privacy. This is the only upside of living in such a tiny little hole.
  
  Since Professor Thezh went to sleep, you've been sleeping exclusively on the couch, so your bed is covered in a pile of clothes and trash. Above the bed, a lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Narrow passages lead east, west, and south.
  
  > Examine poster
  It's not even that racy, but you can't imagine the professor would approve. Thezh has a low opinion of human anatomy in general, clothed or not.
  
  > look under the bed
  The bed is flush with the floor; there is no cool hiding place underneath.
  
  > examine the clothes
  Everything you haven't felt like dealing with is here: Dirty clothes, mostly, but also a lot of dishes and stuff that you couldn't be bothered to clean or throw away or whatever you're supposed to do with them.
  
  > Search clothes
  That's a scary prospect.
  
  > Go east
  Cramped tunnels worm their way through the asteroid, their paths dictated by the integrity of the surrounding basalt. Why would
  they put an observatory in such a tiny hunk of rock? Because the astronomy department couldn't afford anything better. But why does
  it have to be me stuck out here? Well, because of all those
  decisions you made.
  
  From this intersection, the passages go north, east, south, and west.
  
  > Go east
  Cramped tunnels worm their way through the asteroid, their paths dictated by the integrity of the surrounding basalt. From this intersection, the passages go north, east, south, and west.
  
  > go east
  This was designed to be a cozy hangout spot, with as many amenities as could be crammed into the limited space: a TV, a microwave, a decent couch. You still spend most of your time here, but you stopped actively enjoying it a while ago. Even the skylight has become so much wallpaper for you; the view never changes.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  > Go south
  This is where all the work gets done: This is where Professor Thezh analyzes data, tests theories, and mutters bitterly in Sadalbari about you know not what. You had hoped that being a research assistant would involve a lot of sitting in with the professor, bouncing ideas off each other. As it turns out, your assistantship mostly consists of performing chores and staying out of Thezh's way.
  
  The professor's amphisbaena is situated in front of the chalkboard, taking up most of the space in this little cave. Tunnels lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  > look at the chalkboard
  You can understand maybe a third of the material currently on the chalkboard. It's not that you have any trouble reading the professor's writing (which is almost too precise), but certain equations and assumptions are still a mystery to you.
  
  You're enough of an astronomer to understand the basic principles of Thezh's work. For as long as you've been at the observatory, though, you don't feel like you've learned anything new.
  
  > examine the amphisbaena
  This sprawling piece of furniture is ostensibly the Sadalbari equivalent of an easy chair, but the way the professor "sits" or "reclines" in it has never looked particularly comfortable.
  
  > Go east
  The radio telescope's dish is almost as wide as the asteroid is long, and from outside it looks a lot like a soup bowl strapped to a potato. Inside, the bottom of the dish forms a convex ceiling for the chamber below, forcing you to hunch over and contort yourself to get around.
  
  Some slightly more comfortable tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  > look at the telescope
  The dish has various components, but it's primarily a huge metal dome. Your first week at the observatory, you banged your head on it pretty hard, and the professor—who somehow has no trouble getting around in here—spent a few days reminding you that you'd be responsible for repairs if any of the equipment was somehow damaged by the impact of your skull.
  
  > go east
  Professor Thezh calls this rat's nest of cables and interfaces "the computer," as if it were a single, discrete, manageable object. The desk is a mess, too; that's partially your fault.
  
  There are ways out to the north, east, and west.
  
  > Search desk
  You lack the willpower.
  
  > examine desk
  You knew when you signed on for this assistantship that there would be a lot of downtime while Professor Thezh hibernated, so you prepared to embark on several stimulating new hobbies. Here at this desk are your abandoned poems, your abandoned origami, your abandoned watercolors, the first pages of a memoir...
  
  > go east
  This is where all the work gets done: This is where Professor Thezh analyzes data, tests theories, and mutters bitterly in Sadalbari about you know not what. The professor's amphisbaena is situated in front of the chalkboard, taking up most of the space in this little cave. Tunnels lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  > go to the south
  Professor Thezh floats in its tank of viscous sedatives, dreaming its incomprehensible dreams.
  
  The rest of the asteroid is north.
  
  > Examine pod
  Numerous pumps and monitors are hooked up to the professor's pod; a large chunk of the observatory's energy budget is devoted to keeping the professor asleep while also keeping it alive.
  
  > Keep going
  The professor is still.
  
  You must have imagined it.
  
  > go north
  At the "top" of the asteroid is its modest garage, where Professor Thezh's skiff is parked. The way out—out into space—is through the monolithic pressure gate; the way back into your prison of mazelike tunnels is south.
  
  > examine the skiff
  The shuttle must be a hundred years old. You're pretty sure it almost exploded a couple times while you were flying out here.
  
  The trip seemed to take an eternity. You took the wheel while the professor slept in the back, rousing itself occasionally to criticize your driving ability. When you finally arrived, Thezh insisted on landing, so you wouldn't wreck the skiff's paint job.
  
  > Go east
  This was designed to be a cozy hangout spot, with as many amenities as could be crammed into the limited space: a TV, a microwave, a decent couch. You still spend most of your time here, but you stopped actively enjoying it a while ago. Even the skylight has become so much wallpaper for you; the view never changes.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  Somebody screams, and you almost jump out of your skin.
  
  > Clean microwave
  You wobble a bit while your nervous system collects itself.
  
  You hear the scream again, and again: It's an alarm, ringing somewhere in the observatory.
  
  > Go east
  Your quarters are so small that the professor can't even fit inside, which at least means they afford some privacy. This is the only upside of living in such a tiny little hole.
  
  Since Professor Thezh went to sleep, you've been sleeping exclusively on the couch, so your bed is covered in a pile of clothes and trash. Above the bed, a lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Narrow passages lead east, west, and south.
  
  The beeping seems to come from everywhere.
  
  > go south
  The bottom of the radio telescope dish forms a convex ceiling for the chamber below, forcing you to hunch over and contort yourself to get around.
  
  Some slightly more comfortable tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  The caves echo with repetitive ringing.
  
  > go south
  You can't go that way.
  
  The ringing is starting to make your head hurt.
  
  > Go east
  Professor Thezh calls this rat's nest of cables and interfaces "the computer," as if it were a single, discrete, manageable object. The desk is a mess, too; that's partially your fault.
  
  There are ways out to the north, east, and west.
  
  The ringing might be louder in here.
  
  > go east
  This is where all the work gets done: This is where Professor Thezh analyzes data, tests theories, and mutters bitterly in Sadalbari about you know not what. The professor's amphisbaena is situated in front of the chalkboard, taking up most of the space in this little cave. Tunnels lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  You need to find whatever is making that noise.
  
  > go south
  Professor Thezh floats in its tank of viscous sedatives, dreaming its incomprehensible dreams.
  
  The rest of the asteroid is north.
  
  The ringing is starting to make your head hurt.
  
  > Go north
  This is where all the work gets done: This is where Professor Thezh analyzes data, tests theories, and mutters bitterly in Sadalbari about you know not what. The professor's amphisbaena is situated in front of the chalkboard, taking up most of the space in this little cave. Tunnels lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  The caves echo with repetitive ringing.
  
  > Search desk
  The sound gets even louder as you turn your attention to the messy desk. You shove your way through the clutter, searching more by touch than by sight. Your fingers curl around an oblong device, and you feel vibrations going up your arm in time with the beeping.
  
  At last the offending object emerges from the mess: It's an alarm clock. So that's where that went!
  
  It takes some effort to make it shut up. Did they design this thing to be as obnoxious as possible? But now it's quiet.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  an alarm clock
  
  > examine the clock
  You set this alarm when Professor Thezh entered hibernation. On its display is a message:
  
  That means it's finally time to spin the observatory around. You'll have to turn on the computer.
  
  > turn on the computer
  You tap on one of the displays you can reach, and the interface slowly wakes itself up.
  
  Professor Thezh's specialization (well, yours too, ostensibly) is in the field of Oscevotto emanations, interstellar signals that break down under the slightest interference. This makes them impossible to detect from any observatory in an inhabited system.
  
  You scroll through menus until you find the reorientation protocol: It says the first step is to turn off attitude stabilization. Of course you have to do all of this manually.
  
  > turn off the stabilization
  You stomp across the room to the interface for the attitude stabilizer. First you click "Suspend Stabilization," and then "Confirm," and then you have to hold down the button for a while to prove you really mean it.
  
  To have any chance of detecting Oscevotto emanations, Professor Thezh needed an observatory that was as far away from civilization as possible—so, in an asteroid cloud around a nameless, near-dead star. And to properly image these emanations, the telescope needs to take an extremely long "exposure" of interstellar space.
  
  Something stops whirring, and the ground shudders a little bit.
  
  With the first imaging session finally complete, it's time to begin scanning the other half of the galaxy. To do that you'll have to initiate RADA 29.
  
  > Initiate rada 29
  You stomp back across the room to the RCS controls. This is the stupid part: Each thruster has its own throttle, and they all have to be operated in perfect unison, or else the new orientation will be off-target and you'll have to waste fuel making corrections. An easy enough task for the professor, but you only have two hands.
  
  You lean over the control panel and try your best to push all the throttles forward the same amount.
  
  The room rumbles as the engines come to life, and you sway slightly as the asteroid rotates.
  the asteroid rotates.Something pops.
  
  Everything lurches to one side, and you fall over the controls. The thrusters roar, and you're thrown off the control panel and onto the floor.
  floor.You try to get to your feet—but the room goes sideways. You
  fall
  again, tangled in cables.
  again, tangled in cables.You screw your eyes shut, covering your ears with your hands to muffle the screaming engines and suppress your nausea.
  
  You may have blacked out for a moment. With no frame of reference, only unbearable noise and incomprehensible motion, it's difficult to tell.
  tell.One by one the thrusters die, their fuel cells emptied. Now the observatory is silent again.
  
  You crawl toward the nearest wall and stagger most of the way to your feet.
  
  The room is spinning.
  
  > look at the computer
  The equipment seems to be okay, but you're having trouble telling one component from another. Possibly that panel over there is the attitude stabilization interface.
  
  > turn on the stabilization
  You push yourself along the wall toward the attitude controls. You click "Enable Stabilization," and then "Confirm," and then you muster your last reserves of bodily stability to hold down the button until the stupid thing actually starts.
  
  You can hear the reaction wheels spinning and stopping madly as the stabilization system struggles to counteract the asteroid's gyration.
  
  Eventually things slow down enough that you can stand unassisted.
  
  Everything seems to be more or less where it should be, but all the interfaces are blinking with different warnings.
  
  There are ways out to the north, east, and west.
  
  > examine the interfaces
  Most of the warnings are beyond your expertise—but the words "HIBERNATION TANK FAILURE" are pretty easy to understand.
  
  > go to the west
  The telescope seems to be intact, but you can't see much of it from in here.
  
  Tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  > go to the west
  The professor's amphisbaena is upended, tossed into a corner. The floor is wet.
  
  Passages lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  > go south
  The tank is empty. None of the monitors are active.
  
  A trail of slime wends its way around the tank, up to your feet.
  
  > go to the east
  It should be safe in here; the professor can't fit through the narrow passages.
  
  On your bed is a pile of clothes and trash. Your lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Tunnels lead east, west, and south.
  
  "I didn't like you to begin with. I liked you less and less the longer you worked for me. Even before I felt the change coming, I was wishing there was some way to get rid of you. And while I was sleeping..."
  
  Furious hissing, or sarcastic laughter, or an unnameable sound for an equally inhuman emotion fills the asteroid.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  "I could hear everything. For months. All your snoring, sniffling, belching, crying, farting, whistling, muttering—whining
  about
  your cushy assistantship, whining that you had nothing to do—and when you finally had something to do, when you had just one job—"
  
  The professor moans, and the asteroid shakes.
  
  You can hear the professor's bulk slithering through the tunnels to the east.
  
  > go east
  You enter the tunnel, and something squelches up ahead.
  
  "Ah. There you are," it says, and you hear it scuttling down the passageway. In animal terror you retreat—and the noise stops.
  
  "Oh, don't be shy, you blithering waste of air. There's only
  one thing left for you. No point postponing it."
  
  You hold still, and try to breathe quietly.
  
  "The upside is this: As long as the change is happening, I can't be held responsible for my actions. The university has all the paperwork." Parts of the professor's mouth that aren't busy speaking English start purring greedily. "I've never eaten a human research assistant before—and it sounds like you've gotten fatter since I've been asleep. Am I right about that?"
  
  > go west
  The stars above are still whizzing by wildly.
  
  The couch has been torn apart: Slimy chunks of foam litter the floor. The TV and microwave have been smashed and tossed across the room.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  "I'm getting tired of waiting..."
  
  > go to the west
  You take a cautious step forward, and you hear the professor scurrying toward you again. When you rush back to safety, you hear it retreating as well. Then it emits a familiar screech, one you recognize as a sigh of frustration.
  
  "Don't be an idiot—At least, try to be less of an idiot. I can hear every move you make. You aren't getting out of here alive. There's nothing to gain from screwing around—You're just making me angrier." Why won't come out of those tunnels after you?
  
  Because it knows that's the only way you could escape.
  
  > get foam
  That's not something you can carry around.
  
  The professor's heavy breathing—or whatever that noise is—filters
  in
  through the west tunnel.
  
  > Go east
  It should be safe in here; the professor can't fit through the narrow passages.
  
  On your bed is a pile of clothes and trash. Your lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Tunnels lead east, west, and south.
  
  > Go east
  Professor Thezh is just down that tunnel. You can hear it rubbing against the walls. And you don't want to meet it face to face.
  
  > wait a while
  Time passes.
  
  The clicking of claws or fangs echoes through the east tunnel.
  
  > get the poster
  It's glued to the ceiling!
  
  You hear the professor cough something up, then swallow it.
  
  > Go west
  The stars above are still whizzing by wildly.
  
  The couch has been torn apart: Slimy chunks of foam litter the floor. The TV and microwave have been smashed and tossed across the room.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.