How many games are we looking at? Who are the players in each?
Jehart. Not a player. A token, maybe.
The Nazzadi mob. They gave Jehart a peek and an exploding truck full of…what? Moved him across the board, then discarded him. Boom. What are they moving? E-Squared?
Switch. Another token? But not coerced. How weird do things have to get before he turns down a gig?
Brood. Getting E-Squared from the Nazzadi mob? Or vice versa? Or are they two different games?
“The Others don’t want me.” “I will check with the Others.” Only teenagers allowed in this club, grandpa. “There is no future in the old.”
Figuratively, or literally? I’m sitting here in my apartment looking down at a tab of E-Squared in my hand, and I’m wondering how long we all have.
Questions, questions, questions.
E-Squared isn’t a question. I was looking at it wrong. E-Squared is the answer.
E-Squared is the phone that connects people with the Others. There’s no future in the old, but Smithson talked with them at least long enough to know that they didn’t want him.
The Others are the only ones really worth talking to in this case.
The TPD cares about guns, bombs, stolen trucks, smuggled goods. Those things are shadows. When I talked to the Brood, I saw the reality. I got a glimpse of the game board, surrounded by titanic invisible players.
I could take this tab of E-Squared now. I bet I’d be okay.
I visited Alice after I got off work. She said, “Guess what?” I said, “You’re dating that guy from [REDACTED].” She said I spoiled the surprise. What surprise? She’s been talking about him nonstop for weeks. She’s going to introduce him to Mom and Dad this weekend, when she goes over to see their new dog. She asked me if I wanted to come. I told her I’d probably have to work.
There’s a tab of E-Squared in my hand.
E-Squared is a phone.
If I dialed it, who would pick up?
No. No, no, no. Stop it. Stop thinking. Stop