2023

After the '22 Cranium Conference, this got off to something of a nervous start, with PSYCHE being very tentative and cautious. Not that that was going to stop you. The Headspace was full of inflatables, from balloons to flotation devices to lidos. You were the first person to show people how, with a sufficiently well-placed jump, you could be launched far and high, and land comfortably some distance away. Soon everyone was doing it, and the Conference got off to a flying start (a pun you repeated as often as possible). You, Josh and Quill would frequently race across the headspace, bouncing harmlessly off obstacles to go faster. Not to mention there was an intriguing Imaginary Friend, an inflatable flamingo who kept asking for cheese? Significantly less eventful than '22, but a great opportunity to unwind.

2026

Ahoy! A giant galleon sailing choppy waters. You were quick to acquire a fabricated eyepatch, and make friends with the ship's parrot. An action-packed conference that was full of unexpected twists and turns, as you all plumbed the lower decks (which seemed to be much larger than the ship you were on would allow). Towards the very bottom, the Memory Banks were formed of a choir of skeletons singing sea shanties in the forms of the host's memories. Off in the distance, sea monsters twisted and swam and formed ominous shapes, and you had a good time shooting off the cannons at them. Pity the salty air always left you hungry afterwards.

2028

PSYCHE couldn't find a Sensitive this year, so the Conference had to be held in a lecture hall, with every attendee being given a seat in which to recline while they projected into the host in the front of the room. The host's Headspace was as remarkable as ever, a weightless solar system where thoughts and feelings spun around an invisible centre like planets but twinkled in the inky blackness like stars. You had your fun turning somersaults and swimming with the rest of them.

But the odd setting also let you enjoy yourself some. Occasionally you'd withdraw from the Headspace, act limp like the others, and enjoy the sight of the staff members who would wander into the room and stare, unnerved, at a room full of inert people and a person sat in the lecturer's position sitting in silence, or filling out a crossword, or reading emails from a laptop. You're not sure why they're so weirded out. You've seen lectures from others with the same amount of engagement before.

2034

This year, you–

A rocking of the gondola startles you out of your reflections. You blink and narrow your eyes against the bright Italian sun, taking a moment to soak in the beautiful architecture of the Venetian palazzos and Rialto bridge. At the stern Nick gives you a nod and a smile, as he gently paddles you both down the grand canal.

With a smile, you nod to him again, and lean back in the boat as you glide through the city, letting the memories meld with the gentle wash of the water.

It's another day at Pleasant Palace. The weekly Cluedo game had ended in furious arguments, Scrabble had been suggested and discarded, and Dr Lombardi had called a meeting of the Administration Board in the common room.

As ever, the room is full; meeting's like these never fail to draw an audience. In the back rows, the residents clutching their 'Team Lombuddy' mugs that Martin had collected from the days he'd take to the streets to campaign. Some have foam fingers and 'Doc Martin says' T-shirts. Others have forgone the accessories, a select few even denouncing them as 'silly' and 'beneath our dignity'. But they still attend nonetheless.

In the front, the Pleasant Palace administration team. Dressed up for the occasion (for when the Doctor calls, you answer), they encircle him as he sits enthroned at the head of his congregation, waxing eloquently. No one's entirely sure why he's called the meeting yet, but it will become clear soon.

“It then became clear that the creature was entirely unable to be reasoned with. The Chromaphage, for that is the correct name to give it, could not be persuaded to give quarter. Now recall that the Chromaphage, amongst other things, made a Headspace more difficult to access. Once in control of a Headspace it–”

Dr Martin pauses as someone raises their hand.

“Yes?”

“I heard from my grandchild it was called the Chromavore?”

“Some people called it that, but that's not correct. Chromaphage is the correct Latinisation of what we're trying to express.”

Satisfied, he continues:

“Once in control of a Headspace, it grew in power and influence, making it increasingly difficult to challenge in combat and banish from the Headspace from which it inhabited. Along with many other psychics, we worked together to use psychedelic substances and stimulation of the Sensory Array, which drove it back and allowed it to be defeated and banished from the Headspace.”

He pauses for dramatic effect.

“And that is why Armchair 4 must be replaced. It is clearly the least comfortable in the room, and having the whole place be comfortable to those inside it allows bad feelings to be more easily banished. Much like the Chromaphage.”

There is silence. The Administration Board look at each other. One of them speaks.

“Is that… was that the point you wished to make, Doctor?”

Dr Martin nods. “That's correct.”

More whispered conversation.

“Granted. We'll get a new one in as soon as po–”

Whatever was said next was drowned out by the cheering and the waving of the Lombardi merch.

The Doctor had done it again. Because if not now, when?