A Spaceman

Chapter 35--Stop us now

"Hi, um----I'm here for----" why didn't that damn woman tell me her name? "Somebody----who might be dead, probably is dead, a woman."

"Okay," the receptionist stares at me a little blankly. I'm still wearing the battle axe. I just came here. I'm probably injured. I'm not feeling pain right now.

"Her first name is Charlene----I don't know here last name---she's pregnant, she was pregnant---" she 's not anymore you know she lost the baby you know she probably isn't alive the baby certainly isn't. "----I don't know if she's okay, I just need to see her."

"Okay. Sir---um----what is all over your shirt?" she asks, slowly.

"Somebody's head," I say, glancing down at myself to confirm. That's exactly what it is.

"Okay---," she's staring at me like she's pressing some sort of panic button under a desk.

"Quentin," I turn around at the sound of my voice. Jo's sister is standing just outside an elevator, "Come on."

"Is she okay?" I ask, following her into the lift

"No," she says, pressing a button, "She's not."

**

"Time's up," I say, coming over to Quinn and Titus.

"Don't care anymore," Titus says, flatly. He and Quinn are staring at each other. I look down at the chess board.

"What, you've been here for like, six hours---how have you not made a single move?" I ask.

"I know what he'll do," Quinn says.

"I know what he'll do," Titus says.

"I've moved all my pieces I've seen every possibility," Quinn says.

"And they all end in destruction."

"For you."

"For you."

"Then why don't one of you move?" I ask.

"Thinking."

"Thinking."

"We should have done this ages ago if we knew it would keep them this occupied," Kip says, coming up behind me.

"Just come on, they're happy," Ziggy says, taking my arm.

"Yeah, you're right," I say.

"No, they'll forget to eat and other bodily functions, come on," Ziegfeld says, "Finish up, under five minutes."

"We do have to leave."

"In theory."

"I've got nothing but time."

"Me too."

"Actually you both have to report, in ten minutes," Zieglfeld says.

"Right."

"Right."

They begin moving pieces rapidly, barely waiting for the other to let go of a piece before picking up another one. In a moment the entire board is jumble of black and white.

"Draw."

"Draw." They both stand up, Quinn picks up the board neatly to put back in the box.

"You were right that was diverting," Titus says, patting my arm, "He may be the one."

"I don't want to know what that means," I mutter.