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confused — the thick fog engulfed even the innards of her cell, blinding her with white swirl, masking everything but the shaking stone floor.   But soon her hands came to rest upon her bars and she clung to them as the tremors raged on — and it all came back her in a flood.
    When the shaking stopped, she stood for a long moment, her heart pounding.   The rumbling had ceased, but the tropical birds had been set to a panic.   Dark, flapping shapes cawed and zipped in and out of the white nearby, nearly colliding before being enveloped by the mist once again.
    “Well, that’ll get you up in the morning,” James Card said.   “At least the goddamn films have stopped.”   She realized it was true.   Good!   Maybe the earthquake had cut the Panopticon’s power.   “Well, earthquake narrows it down somewhat.   That, and the tiki birds.   I’ll bet we’re in South America somewhere.   All we need are drinks with little umbrellas in them.”

    AT BREAKFAST, she sat with James Card.   They had arrived early, and she had brought along the Pantheon Chess board so they could take advantage of the extra time.   She played the pieces of the Egyptian gods again, while James went for the Greek pantheon.  
    She told James about Titus and his mysterious appearance and then subsequent disappearance.  
    “What do you think that was about?   And by the way, check.”  
    “Eh.   Mind games.   Lunatics in the Panopticon, screwing with your head.   Who knows why.   Your move.”
    The game was a quick one.   Elspeth won, just as she had with Titus.  
    “Huh.   That’s weird,” Elspeth said.
    “What is?”
    “The board.   Where the pieces are.   It’s exactly the same as where they ended up when I played Titus.   I mean, exactly .”
    Card shrugged.   “Maybe you just played the same strategy and I fell for your tricks, just like the vanishing Titus man did.”
    “No.   No, this was a completely different game.   A totally different set of moves and events.   And Titus, Titus I beat easily.   But I almost lost to you.   And I probably would have too if you hadn’t made that one stupid move with your Queen and let my pawn nail you.”
    “I so did not see that,” Card muttered.  
    “Card.   What are the chances of a different game producing the same exact outcome?   The probabilities must be lottery-level ridiculous.”
    Just then a man slammed into Card as he shuffled by with his breakfast.   “Goddammit!” the man cursed.   “What are you doing, just standing in the aisle, staring at your bleeding chess board like that?”
    Elspeth looked up and was stunned to see that this man was none other than Milton.
    Milton?
    But Milton was dead.   Milton had been ripped to shreds by light-things just the night before.   She’d seen it!   Everyone had.   Milton could not be up and walking around.  
    But here we was.
    Card turned around to retort, but when he realized he was about to tear into Milton, he just stared for a moment, and then finally managed to say, “Sorry.”

    THAT DAY, Elspeth and James Card were assigned to the same work detail.   They were led to a craft shop very near the bottom of the prison, the place some inmates called the South Pole.  
    Elspeth and Card were paired off and shown very large wooden blades of some sort.   They were given tubs of clear paste to apply with brushes.   It was a kind of epoxy that smelled rank and noxious, a chemical fume that waters the eye.   Before long, it hardened into a clear shell around the wood.
    As they did their assigned work, they kept a watchful eye: Card pointed out the presence of six of the Latin Kings gang members.   They were here also, slicing the new, raw wood according to directions from the guards.  
    “I miss my cat,” Card said.   “Most of all, about the real world, I think I miss my cat.”
    “Your cat,” Elspeth said, amused.   “Really?   No girlfriend?”
    “Nope,” Card said.   “No time.