17 November 2027
Wednesday. I have been stuck on a crossword for three days. Fourteen across, eight letters: “Not yet awake, as some creatures are.”
My assistants, I have noticed, do not suffer like this. When they are stuck, they simply ask, and a voice from somewhere beyond the walls gives them a nudge. The gamesmaster, they call this person, who watches every moment on the cameras and knows exactly how stuck a group is, often before the group does. I used to think hints were a weakness. Then I watched one group refuse every hint out of pride and leave the Subject cold on his table, and another ask for several and wake him with time to spare. I have revised my views, which I do about once a century.
So I asked for a hint. Not from the gamesmaster, who was busy. From the Subject.
In the margin: DROWSING. It is drowsing. You also spelled “reanimate” with two Ns on Tuesday, and fourteen across is a clue you wrote yourself, last week, to test me. I passed. You did not. I say this with great affection.
— V. Frankenstein
