Chapter 9

“A tumbling through space and through time,
the concepts of space and time are combined.
Twirling, twisting, through red, blue, and green,
the stars, the planets, the nebulae seen.
Infinite outward and infinite in.
So where did Infinity all begin?
In the very same place where Infinity ends:
In the conscious minds and dreams of Shamen.”
-The Shamen, “Space Time“

Contessa Helena de San Finzione was checking out Susan’s ass in her form-fitting tactical shorts.

It wasn’t really Susan’s ass, and for that matter, didn’t seem to quite be the Susan she’d talked to on Skype a few times. She seemed more like Lara Croft, but that was probably due to her being dressed as Lara Croft and having just done some kind of tomb-raiding somersault flip while gunning down the two beasts that were now being dragged off the set by stagehands. A big “Technical Difficulties, Please Stand By” notice was on the monitors that Helena could see from her angles.

“Susan?” Helena asked again.

“No,” Suzy-Q said as she took Helen’s coffee cup and scooped some wine out of the giant wine glass that hadn’t broken and stained the carpet with a sea of red to match the blood of the Sally and Cara-Things. “I’m, Suzy-Q. That’s one of those weird things happening right now. Susan’s doesn’t even know I’m here. She’s busy getting finger-fucked by Julie and blowing Troy in a bath on one of your new planes. They’re on their way here, incidentally. Racing across the globe to be by your side., like you knew damn well they would as soon as they heard.”

Helena nodded. Suzy-Q continued.

“I, on the other hand, have no fucking clue what I’m doing in YOUR head. Susan wouldn’t have told you about us. Troy and Julie know, but they wouldn’t say anything without asking her first; which they haven’t. And you specifically told the Ultimados no to breaking into Susan’s therapist’s office and getting her file. There’s no logical reason I should be here, but I’m pretty sure logic isn’t playing a big role in all this.”

“Ok,” Helena asked, sitting at the end of one of the couches. “Then what’s the IL-logical reason?”

“Good question,” Suzy-Q replied, sitting at the other end and turning to face her. “Well, I’d say the four of you know the secret of mind control, honey, so, what other things might be real? Susan’s not even doing anything to make this happen; maybe telepathy’s a thing too. Maybe the three of them together and trying to fuck their minds off of worrying about you is doing something to the Collective Subconscious, allowing me to come to you. We can’t ignore the near-death aspect of things; maybe there are just angles to the whole Life/Death game that can’t be made out from your end, or this is just something that the stars are aligned for right now. Not to belabor the dying point, but have you seen any dead people you know? Have you come across Propappou or Vincenzo yet?”

Helen considered her words, but still wasn’t certain that this wasn’t another trick her mind was playing on her.

“No, haven’t seen anybody but the freaky things and you. And I don’t think my late husband’s name has ever come up in our conversations, so where do you know it?”

Suzy-Q replied to that with a shit look.

“Ever the skeptic, huh? Well, that one’s much less of a mystery, Helen. Your late husband was one of the Crown Heads of Europe; it’s called Wikipedia, dear. You really think Susan’s never Googled you?”

With an odd shimmer, the audience and cameras vanished, leaving them alone.

“So, anyway,” Suzy-Q said, clasping her hands. “You figured out that the assassin was deaf and that’s why The Thing didn’t work. He was also apparently suicidal. So, you’ve got one answer that brings with it more questions.”

Helena gave it more thought.

“Yeah, like ‘who’d think to send a deaf assassin after me?’”

“Well, I see you conjured a qipao for yourself to wear; lovely, by the way. Like the dragons. So maybe that’s your subconscious trying to tell us something. You thinking the Elders, maybe?”

Helena puffed on her cigarette, an advantage to its having been conjured into existence within her head being that the cigarette seemed to be lasting forever.

“Thought about the Triad angle, yeah; maybe Raymond Chen set all this up before they got him?”

Suzy-Q laughed at that.

“Raymond Chen’s dead. Not like you are here while they’re operating to save you, real ‘dead dead.’ The Elders got on that one pretty quickly, didn’t they?”

“Well, now I know you’re not entirely Susan or whatever part of her you’re supposed to be; because she had no way of knowing about all that business.”

“Hey, that’s right,” Suzy-Q responded. “Well, I AM a guest in your head; maybe I’ve got some kind of guest-level access to your thoughts. I mean, Susan doesn’t even know what a qipao is, I must’ve gotten that from you.”

Helena considered that a moment.

“Plausible as the rest of this. Nonetheless, you make a good point. The thugs I sent home couldn’t have been back more than two or three hours before Raymond Chen’s hand appeared at the embassy. And if he’d been a Triad Brother; even one stupid enough to go behind the Elders’ backs and make a move in San Finzione, that would be a personnel matter. They would have had needed to hold meetings and discuss what to do about him. They wouldn’t have immediately skipped straight to execution.”

Susy-Q took another drink before speaking.

“Maybe you’ve just got them that scared, Helen. This reputation you’ve established around the world as a woman to be feared? It works, people fear you. Somehow, ‘The Viper That Speaks All the Tongues of Man’ is angry with them about some guy named Raymond Chen. The last thing anyone wants is a war with you, so they had to give you a Raymond Chen. But if they don’t even know who Raymond Chen is...”

Helena completed the thought with a sigh and a downward look.

“I see, yeah. They might just go murder some random guy; just to appease me.”

By the time the Air Finzione supersonic jet was over the Eastern Seaboard, Susan Bailey had cleaned up and put on some clothes from her bag. The clothes she’d had in the bag, however, were chosen for Western Washington weather and practicality rather than flying from Seattle to San Finzione in one of the plane’s Contessa Class luxury suites.

The evening dress she’d been wearing when she boarded had been replaced by a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that said in white letters “Somewhere deep down, aren’t we ALL Groot?” Although there were no other passengers, she kept the blue flannel jacket in the bag so anyone seeing her wouldn’t think she was about to hit them up for change.

She walked back to First Class and saw all the empty seats. Air Finzione wouldn’t exist for another month yet. In fact, the first commercials were scheduled to start airing during sporting events that weekend. The San Finzione consul in Seattle had been able to use his connections and arrange this flight for her and the Equals as personal friends of La Contessa. Susan thought better of correcting him that technically, she and Helen weren’t quite friends yet and accepted.

She looked in the alcove between First and Business Classes, hoping to find Colleen or someone else, but it was devoid of people. Since their tickets were “on Helen,” or at least on La Familia de San Finzione’s business empire, Susan had no issues grabbing a couple of single-serving bags of Goldfish crackers and roasted almonds before continuing back to Coach and finding no one again.

On her way back to the front of the plane, she stopped and looked around the empty Business Class seats and took a deep breath.

“HEY,” she shouted, repeating the last word with a soft fade, trying to simulate an echo effect. “HEY! WHERE IS EVERYBODY?”

Colleen emerged from the other Contessa Class suite.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Equals, can I help you with something?”

Susan turned to her, blushing from a combination of the yelling and someone having heard her.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, no, Colleen. She’s the other one. I’m Ms. Bailey. Er, Susan, that is. Hi. I was just ... old Twilight Zone bit. First time flying ... thought there’d be more people. I figured everybody does the Shatner ‘There’s ... SOMETHING ON THE WING!’ one.”

Susan started walking toward Colleen with her palms outstretched at her sides as if to say “Not a crazy person; well, not a dangerous one, anyway, just a little weird is all. I’m just coming over to talk.”

“Oh, aye,” Colleen said. “Yeah, they always go fer that episode. I like...” She got a confused look on her face and pretended to hold up a pair of invisible broken glasses. “Tha’s nae fair. Tha’s nae fair ‘T-ALL. There was TIME now. There ... there was all the time I NEEDED. S’ nae fair.” She started sobbing and fading as she repeated the last. “S’ nae fair.”

Susan stopped walking when she’d reached a decently conversational distance, applauding the bit and laughing.

“That’s great! The last impression I’d expect you’d have in your repertoire is 1950s Burgess Meredith. And your accent makes it even better.”

Colleen smiled and tilted her head to the right.

“Well, ye know, we DID finally get TV in Ireland this past year.”

Susan smiled, liking her all the more for that response.

“I deserved that. I hope we haven’t been asshole customers, Colleen. Er ... passengers.”

That elicited a look of surprise and another smile from the lass.

“What? Oh no, sorry, nah ya haven’t. Sorry, weren’t expecting that. The marketing guys say tha’ Contessa Class passengers’ll typically be...” Colleen stopped herself before using the word “asshole” as well. “Er, that is, not overly concerned wit’ others’ opinions of their behavior.”

“Dickheads, huh?” Colleen nodded a little. “It’s ok, Colleen, you can say it. I used to do a job a lot like yours. Except in something stationary and on the ground.” Colleen looked confused. “Waitress,” Susan explained as she looked out the window at the cloud layer. “Same shitty highway greasy spoon for 11 years. You probably don’t get as many meth heads and drunk trucker propositions, though.”