y're doing it to us!"
The Captain stood rigidly, staring at the featureless intrusion. He
turned presently. "To us," he parroted. Then he stumbled blindly to the
doctor, who put a firm hand on his biceps and walked with him to the
forward acceleration couch.
The Captain sat down heavily with his back to this new invasion. Paresi
stood by him reflectively, then walked silently to Hoskins.
The engineer sat over his chessboard in deep concentration. The far edge
of the board seemed to be indefinite, lost partially in the mysterious
sable curtain which covered the bulkhead.
"Hoskins."
No answer.
Paresi put his hand on Hoskins' shoulder. Hoskins' head came up slowly.
He did not turn it. His gaze was straight ahead into the darkness. But
at least it was off the board.
"Hoskins," said Paresi, "why are you playing chess?"
"Chess is chess," said Hoskins quietly. "Chess may symbolize any
conflict, but it is chess and it will remain chess."
"Who are you playing with?"
No answer.
"Hoskins--we need you. Help us."
Hoskins let his gaze travel slowly downward again until it was on the
board. "The word is not the thing," he said. "The number is not the
thing. The picture, the ideograph, the symbol--these are not the thing.
Conversely ..."
"Yes, Hoskins."
Paresi waited. Hoskins did not move or speak. Paresi put his hand on the
man's shoulder again, but now there was no response. He cursed suddenly,
bent and brought up his hand with a violent smash and sent board and
pieces flying.
When the clatter had died down Hoskins said pleasantly, "The pieces are
not the game. The symbols are not the thing." He sat still, his eyes
fixed on the empty chair where the board had been. He put out a hand and
moved a piece where there was no piece to a square which was no longer
there. Then he sat and waited.
Paresi, breathing heavily, backed off, whirled, and went back to the
Captain.
Anderson looked up at him, and there was the glimmer of humor in his
eyes. "Better sit down and talk about something different, Doctor."
Paresi made an animal sound, soft and deep, far back in his throat,
plumped down next to the Captain, and kneaded his hands together for a
moment. Then he smiled. "Quite right, skipper. I'd better."
They sat quietly for a moment. Then the Captain prompted, "About the
different breaking point...."
"Yes, Captain?"
"Perhaps you can put your finger on the thing that makes different men
break
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