The Player of Games (Culture, #2)

by Iain M. Banks

But five years! All that time; not just away from here, but at least half, probably more, of that stretch spent with no time for keeping abreast of developments in other games, no time to read papers or write them, no time for anything except this one, absurd, obsessive game. He would change; he would be a different person at the end of it; he could not help but change, take on something of the game itself; that would be inevitable. And would he ever catch up again, once he came back? He would be forgotten; he would be away so long the rest of the game-playing Culture would just disregard him; he’d be a historical figure. And when he came back, would he be allowed to talk about it? Or would Contact’s seven-decade-long embargo continue?