Two hours and six minutes before Sententia.
"What a waste," murmured Georgiana.
"What?" asked one of her underlings.
Sighing Georgiana replied;
"All of this. Forty three years and endless stress for three hours of action tops. It's a wonder that this game is so popular."
"Well," he said uncertainly, "What it represents is the number of cards-"
"Do shut up," Georgiana snapped as she waved him away.
She watched him scuttle away with distaste. Georgiana didn't even know why she bothered sharing her thoughts with people obviously much stupider then her. Perhaps that was why she'd been promoted so quickly. Everyone around her thought in straight lines and nintey degree angles. She thought in curves.
Rubbing her temples she placed one of her hands on the armrest. Almost immediately she pulled it way in disgust. Investigating her suit she hissed as she saw the dark grey streak. The building hadn't been used in ages, let alone cleaned. Why had the Sentinels picked this place? Maybe it was for the drama. Yes, Icarus Theater certainly was very dramatic.
All of the cameras were in place. Millions of Stigandians would be tuning in shortly. Sententia was the highest watched program ever. The scientists and miners, those most inimately connected with what was going on, would get front row seats. Many others were watching from their spaceships. All of them would want their time and money's worth. They would want it to be dramatic.
Sighing again, she seemed to do that a lot around Sententia games, she pulled back her sleeve. Her designer watch read ten fifty-four. So very little time was left. It wouldn't be long now.
.
.
.
It wouldn't be long now. Already Vanya's breathing and heart rate were slowing. .05 had told him that the end was near few minutes ago. Already there was nothing he or anyone could do. Kraken looked at her dejectedly with a touch of anger. How dare the universe do this to her, to him, to them?
Pogo and .05 had cleared the room. Of that at least he had been glad. Even so she hadn't uttered a word or shown signs of conciousness in hours. Her life was going to slip away without even a murmur of protest. Only yesterday there had been nothing wrong with her. She'd been just like she'd always been. The day before that he thought he could spend the rest of his life with her. No more.
"I can hear something…" he heard her murmer, "…it sounds like angels…suffocating…it's terrifying…"
"Vanya?" he muttered as he placed a hand over her forehead.
Her eyes opened showing that they had changed to a horribly pale shade of blue. She almost managed to smile before wincing.
"It hurts…" she whispered.
"It's not going to in a minute," he said as he tried to choke back angry tears at what was happening to her.
Her hand moved forwards and gripped his, hard. Her skin felt like it was made of ice now.
"I'm really scared."
"No need to be," he muttered.
Something in her eyes told him that she knew what was happening to her. Her breath was coming in stuttering gasps now.
"I…I love you," she said faintly, "You…you know that…right?"
"Yes," he answered, "I know that. I love you too. You know that right?"
His attempt at humor wasn't lost and he heard her give a raspy chuckle.
"I know," she whispered, "I…I know."
.
.
.
Rumor someone knock on the door to her room. She'd only managed to catch a few hours of sleep and she was quite irritable. She'd thought that getting into the costume early would calm her nerves. Apparently it hadn't.
"Go away!" she called without turning around.
Her irritation reached a boiling point as she heard the door to her room open anyway. She should've locked the damn thing. Angrily she put down the mask that she was about to put on.
"What do you want?" she snapped as she turned around.
Surprise flooded her as she realized it was Space standing in the doorway. There was something new in his eyes that she had never seen before; uncertainty. What was that about? Was it the fact that he didn't really want to talk to her or he felt uncomfortable with the situation? Either way it didn't really matter.
"What do you want?" repeated Rumor, now slightly less angry but also a good deal colder.
Spaceboy paused for a minute as though trying to find the words.
"Screw normal?" he ventured uncertainly.
Rumor smiled. She walked forward and took his hand. It was big enough to fit both of hers in quite comfortably.
"Knew you'd come round."
.
.
.
Downstairs Vanya flatlined. Kraken had felt her hand lose its grip seconds before the beeping of the machines started. He gripped her hand tighter and bowed his head. His teeth clenched in anger and grief at the aprupt turn that events had taken. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It shouldn't have happened.
Letting go of her hand he placed it gently beside her. Then he let a few tears escape the prison he had kept most of his emotions in since he was seventeen. He didn't notice the sudden spike in the machines until they shut off from being overloaded. It even took him a couple minutes to look at her face.
The White Violin had opened her eyes.