hear what they were saying. That’s what he did with all the books in the basement—
— basement . That meant something. Simon stopped and pulled out his cards. He found the one with STORM written on top. IF A LOUD NOYZ SKAIRS YOU AND IT GTS LOUDR AND YU KANT FIND MOMMY AND DADDY THN GO TO TH BASMNT
Simon cast his eyes upward and listened. After a few seconds he put his cards away and looked back to the words and letters and numbers, their connection to the basement just a thought flitted away. He moved through the pages, sweeping them from right to left to reveal the next, capturing what was meaningful to him in furtive glances.
Through the words and letters and numbers, page after page, information filtered into his brain, filling the delicate and damaged neural matrix that guided Simon Lynch through every moment of his existence, referencing itself without conscious effort, indexing, cross indexing, adding to the library of knowledge that had been absorbed from reading, from hearing. Squirreling it away like nuts for a time when it might be needed, though it never was…externally.
Internally it was a very different story, with morsels of information competing with one another in a test for prominence and validation. This occurred constantly, automatically, in streams of words and letters and numbers that occupied Simon Lynch every waking moment, rolling like a waterfall of knowledge behind his eyes as his day marched on. It was less like thinking than processing. Thinking implied choice. Simon had never known a choice in the use of his mind. It functioned beyond the primal instructions for involuntary necessities as a computer. When he woke he was processing. When he ate he was processing. When he did puzzles he was processing. When his father sang to him he was processing.
When Simon Lynch slept he dreamed of words and letters and numbers.
He had no knowledge that this was happening, and as he flipped through The Tinkery it went on, and on, and on, and continued even when he happened upon the first puzzle in the magazine. It covered an entire page. Nothing marked it overtly as a puzzle, but Simon knew that it was.
1839956021PFYRTKLYTE3668493216KLRMAYBPKW9865749102
66829365403685943638405759376438505047638495058476
63840473538305645859857659575940362273021854058740
42083643849036354378302026436498362037463836538392
76354763826328393643839293764547392032764639829274
73937639823028373902092735456393203846498393746476
62623836484945905056985474563838936026736430003263
62534530326624222936363738881212121430578465489487
72453637849849464784904764980622025200272532439850
73535464747456465393023746404630640354395463840563
89675937915777777742525263435079787978797907853243
62432738654849463484904764662903764654945649352348
17292364375498604024845654079059654976985673502016
73879499432943964398649864949494941964941628394028
83643840463437840458352653984504573452749457367439
32638045735373038376438490457476498505674675950739
78353903026254389450476365485490476476594647459437
73984037354785904764845057647595639027850837695047
98464846498690678403847590846498450947494904849849
63438659686904639437659445223850565595393649363939
31322056290639739346393528243334996797676343982363
78365383543836538346438464846498352806097247507234
26398404363740508325743904693047494374904652849584
78363490365394363937639362920272574394723453749438
38353474950670574653783403724527629364895946485946
90221452627843940450576365484596369362920162539407
45137304329687697643964398418419688807607640642306
98743848754378478543787643986901260602106010606644
87987587549875870554398404634543784940474354749393
73638430474548404578465398393638494646749353294905
ATHDKTENVODGDLFOEGFDMFOFGDKDSPQSCBVVCJFDHDSGDSJYYQ
Simon studied the puzzle for several seconds, noting in that time that there were 1450 numbers in the body of the puzzle, and a mix of 50 numbers/letters at the beginning and 50 letters at the end. These were not part of