forsyth | Nano update 15158/18362

I'm catching up, slowly. I fell behind yesterday, because I didn't do any writing, but I did 2K today before going out, then more since then. Dunno exactly how much. I'm gonna write some more, taking a minute to update this since it's after midnight. Of course, to keep catching up, I have to do about 2K a day, at least. We'll see. I'm definitely gonna finish Chapter 4 tonight, though it's long enough to maybe be more than one chapter. And yes, it hasn't had anything other than the most basic spellcheck. What do you want, I'm trying to churn out lots of words, you want good too?

"When are any of us anywhere, and how can we be sure?" Twink prattled on.
Jayridge watched as the boy and his monkey headed down the dock and were soon lost to sight in the crowds filling the docks. "Okay, you can quit downloading stuff from philosophy majors' LJs any time now. Is this the right island? And which way to the ninja school?"
Twink's eyes lit up. "OOOOH! This guy has all of season three of All My Circuits on his network!"
"Wait, no, I need yo to... too late." Jayridge barked, but too late.
Twink was lost in a happy electronic sea of robotic soap opera. Or a simulated subroutine of it, which was close enough. Jayridge sighed and sat on the edge of the dock. "You wouldn't even notice if I dropped you in the ocean right now, would you?"
She stuck the oblivious Twink in the top of her knapsack and dug out the brochure again, which had the mailing address on it. Just a PO box, but better than nothing. And over there by the entrance to the harbor was a big "WELCOME TO KANHIRO ISLAND" sign, so this was either the right place, a reminder never to eat triple banana jalapeno death sundaes before bed again, or the result of a giant conspiracy dedicated to messing with her head. There was probably a post office around, but the docks were like a complex maze of planks and cement, full of people and crisscrossing inches over the water. Like docks.
Jayridge stood up and peered around, but no obvious "POST OFFICE HERE" neon signs were visible from where she...no, wait, there was one. A nice big glowing neon sign, easily visible over all but the biggest boats, or at least masts. Perked up, Jayridge stuffed the (by now much abused) pamphlet in her pocket, zipped the knapsack back up, and slung it over her shoulder, then headed off toward the sign. Unbeknownst to her, she was watched from the mast of a nearby ship!
Five minutes later, she ended up back by the sub again, from the other direction. "Ergh," she said.
Reoriented toward the sign, she set off again. Six minutes later, she was back, from the way she'd came. "Okay, THAT way..."
This time it took eight minutes. The maze of masts and ships turned nearly impenetrable and certainly repetitive in every direction she went and the sign vanished like clearance items on the day after Thanksgiving. "This SO isn't funny," she said, and set off again.
All of two minutes. "But, I went that way, I didn't turn... Damnit, Twink, help me out here. Isn't that your frickin protocols?"
But Twink was still lost in the convoluted bliss of fictional robotic relationships, helpfulness subroutines shoved to the back of the processing table. Jayridge looked around, then turned and set off in the opposite direction from the post office sign. Only to return fifteen minutes later. But this time, Goob and Midas were back.
"Oh, hey," Goob said, "We were afraid you'd gotten lost."
Jayridge was lost, confused, but most of all, angry. "This... You... Have you seen this place? These docks don't make any sense! They curve back on each other in noneuclidian, indescribable ways whose blasphemous lines and eye-watering topography can drive sane beings to murderous insanity! And I. CAN'T. GET. OUT!"
"Woah, okay there. Yeah, the docks can be a little overwhelming the first couple times, but I think you're overreacting just a tad."
"I AM NOT OVERREACTING! I saw a bunch of cultists in black robes carrying their twisted ritual gear from a boat made of bones! BONES!"
"Oh, that. That's just the Campus Crusade for Cthulhu spring break crew. Nothing to worry about."
"It's NOT SPRING!" Jayridge yelled.
"Is in the southern hemisphere. They're harmless, really. Mostly they just hang out in basements and bitch about it being so sunny."
"They... Wait, how do you know? You're talking like you've been here before."
"Well, yeah. We do the whole shipping thing all the time."
"Ook," Midas said.