Chapter twenty-nine

Dion and I had to keep our arms together for a little while, since we were still going through the blood ritual still. I was facing Ned when he got back, so he put the book down in my left hand. It was a small book, smaller than the Mystery Thesis, and it had a hard-cover inlaid with gold embossing. I lifted the book up close to my face so I could view the title: Don’t Read.

“There it is!” Ned announced, happily. “The Library database reports this book to be the one you two are looking for, with approximately 99 percent accuracy.” I held the book up and over our canvas arm-cuffs, so that Dion could read the title, which he did so aloud.

“Don’t Read? You gotta be kidding me.”

“I do not kid,” Ned responded. “That is the book you desire, according to your wishes.”

“Well, let’s see,” I said, as I attempted to open the book to its Table of Contents with my one usable hand.

“Lester, wait,” Dion said. Now what? I thought to myself. I waited; Dion continued. “This could be a sign for both of us.” Great, now we’re onto signs and secret codes. A tension was building in Dion; I could feel it in our bound limbs.

“What, like a road sign?” I chortled with jocularity. My attempt to alleviate the tension in the air had failed, and I knew pretty much where he was going with this.

“No, like an omen, I mean,” Dion said portentously. “As in the sentence, ‘Dion and Lester: don’t read this book.’”

“You’re too serious, right now, Dion. You’re scaring me a little, dude.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. About how maybe I changed the ending of Mystery Thesis by reading the book beforehand.”

“And now you’re thinking that if we read this book we will fuck it all up again?”

“Pretty much,” Dion said.

“I see.” I stopped for a moment; we didn’t have to crack open the veritable egg just yet. “You know, how about we go ahead and wait awhile? We’ll talk about what we can do when we arrive in Ceetown –”

“Carthago,” Dion said. It was weird talking so close to Dion’s face, tied up as we were.

“Whatever. We’ll come up with a good plan before our arrival, run it by our faithful robot here, and hopefully we won’t even need to open this thing.” I lifted up the book again for my new bloodbrother to see, if only to show him that the book was closed-up. “I mean, we have a little time to spare, don’t you think?” Dion liked the idea as far as I could tell; he was just glad we weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“Maybe we have some time, maybe not. That’s only a medium-sized book, after all,” Dion said. Beneath the canvas wrap, he gripped my hand a little tighter and looked me in the eye. “At least, Lester, we’ve got some options now. We’ll get cleaned up, and enjoy the final days of our voyage figuring out what the heck to do when we get there.”

“And then, if we come up with nothing, we’ll –”

“Don’t even say it,” Dion replied, now a bit crestfallen. “I know what you’re about to say, so just don’t say it. I know you’re going to keep thinking about it, and I can’t stop that. And you may be right, we may just need that book after all, but I believe if it comes to that –”

“You think I’m gonna read the book,” I answered. Oops, I guess I said it.

“Should that happen, Lester, I think we’re both doomed.”