Quintet Page #3

Tell me about Deuca.

I know her.

You know a lot.

And you are very curious.

Do you know a man

named Francha?

- Is he a Quintet player?

- Yes.

I know a man named Francha.

He lives in another sector.

He comes to the casino quite often.

- He's a very good player.

- He was.

Are you telling me he's dead?

No, I'm telling you he was killed.

Good night, Redstone.

Don't forget to bolt your door.

Who is it?

- Who's in my room?

- It's all right. It's Goldstar.

What are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

It's cold.

Do you have a blanket?

Nothing?

Nothing for me?

Nothing tonight.

I don't feel like drinking.

That was a very-

Now you're misreading my expression.

Everybody knows

there are no locks in the hotel.

No locks, but tight security.

Obviously not as tight as you thought.

I waited half an hour before I could

slip by without Deuca seeing me.

I couldn't chance that.

I hope you have

as much luck leaving.

Now, you say that,

but you don't mean it.

You're like all the rest.

St. Christopher- he's the worst.

- He humiliated me tonight.

- Is that possible?

He came to the casino with Grigor.

I was playing there.

He came right in

the same room with me.

Of course, Grigor was there to protect him,

which, of course, he's not supposed to do.

Get off my bed and tell me

what you're doing here so late.

St. Christopher.

I'm going to enjoy killing him.

Saint, indeed!

He thinks he can charm Grigor.

Well, Grigor can't protect him for long.

- Why are you coming to me?

- To ask you outright.

Is there a plot against me?

If there is, you would know,

and I protest it.

It is not legal.

I asked you to get off my bed.

I don't trust Grigor.

And I know St. Christopher.

Now, tell me.

I know it's true.

There's no plot

that I know of, Goldstar.

And if there is,

I have nothing to do with it.

Don't be too sure.

Don't you be too sure.

Your day will come...

and before long...

we may be facing one another again

under different circumstances.

I've wasted my time coming here.

Well, you may put the word out

that I know what's going on.

You may tell St. Christopher...

that I'm after him.

And don't be too sure

you won't be far behind.

Who is it?

- It's Redstone.

- I'm not open yet.

- Well, can you let me in anyway?

- No.

Hello!

I'm looking for someone

who lives at the hotel.

- Who?

- St. Christopher.

He doesn't live in the hotel.

He doesn't?

You know him then?

He runs a charity house

in the fourth sector.

Thank you.

Help me.

Solace.!

Solace!

Solace!

Solace!

Solace!

Solace!

Solace!

The geometric shape

of the universe...

reflects the scheme of life.

You've been taught

that they are the same.

You've been taught that the universe

is bounded by five sides...

and that life has but five stages.

Primum-

the pain of birth.

Secundum-

the labor of maturing.

Tercium-

the guilt of living.

Quartum-

the terror of aging.

Quintum-

the finality of death.

But this is not complete...

for five sides

demand a sixth space...

a center...

and that is what you have

to look forward to.

What is the sixth space?

It's empty.

It's blackness.

Void!

In other ages...

equally ignorant...

it was said an eternal fire

would follow death.

But I tell you-

I tell you...

there is no fire.

I tell you,

fire is not enough punishment.

No.

No, my sons!

The emptiness I'm speaking of...

is the total horror of madness...

the awareness of nothing.

So, your wretched lives, in fact...

are supremely happy.

It is your reward.

You must cherish your tortured life...

because it is a pause,

an interruption of the void...

preceding and following it.

Don't fight.

Don't struggle.

Accept.

When you think

of the number five...

remember... it is six.

And if you look for an answer,

look far beyond what facts you have...

and add yet one more-

the unknown.

Because only when you

consider the unknown...

you have a hope, a chance...

to solve...

the dilemma.

Redstone!

You're far away from the hotel.

Well, so are you.

I used to live in this sector.

I sometimes come here to remember.

Is that helpful- to remember?

- Sometimes one can't avoid it.

- Who's St. Christopher?

I'm sorry.

Did you hear me?

- I don't know him.

- Oh, really?

I said I don't know him.

I know who he is.

I know he plays Quintet

at the casino.

Oh, this is nice.

You know, there are people

who say he's the best player alive.

The man in your room last night said

he was gonna kill St. Christopher.

- Are you spying on me?

- No, you woke me up.

He said he was gonna

kill St. Christopher.

That man is a very bad sport.

Quite paranoid...

but harmless.

Poor Goldstar is a bad loser.

He has a passion for the game, but he'll

never be anything but a mediocre player.

The only way he can save face...

is to accuse someone

like St. Christopher of cheating.

Very cowardly.

He seemed very convincing.

Tell me-

Do I misunderstand the word "killing"?

Not if you understand Quintet.

Do you want to come in?

I keep a bottle.

All right.

Please sit down.

That's the man who was

in your room last night.

I can never get used to

this mindless killing.

Mindless? It's ritual.

It's a ritual killing.

And they wanted you to see it.

Or me.

There's a list.

His name was on it-

"Goldstar. "

My brother's name was on the list.

They bombed his apartment.

But there were others killed.

One of them was just a...

girl who-

I saw the man who bombed it,

and I chased him.

When I caught up with him,

somebody had slit his throat.

There is a list, and anyone

on it is marked, like he is.

You must be wrong-

trying to find a meaning

where there is none.

Death is arbitrary.

At least, that has always

been the main complaint.

Your name is on the list too.

Let's not think about it.

Maybe it's better this way.

To try to prolong life is pointless.

In a few years, maybe months...

all dying will be done.

I don't want to be alone.

I can't.!

W- Would you... sleep here

in my bed with me?

Mmm.

Things have gotten so bad.

It didn't used to be like this.

I never think of the past.

It's gone, but-

Maybe it's the closeness

of another person.

You make me think of life.

You remind me

of what we have lost.

Something wrong?

It's not common

to see people smile.

I had a dream.

I- I dreamed about my mother.

We were together on a train.

I was ahead of her...

and I- I turned around

and I saw her walk up the aisle.

She was younger

than I am now.

Very pretty.

She wore a green hat.

We didn't speak.

We just smiled at each other.

It was not at all sad.

It was...

immensely pleasurable.

When I woke up,

I had a smile on my face.

I put up my hand,

and I could- I could feel it.

Do you dream about the past

very often?

I never thought of it-

whether I dream of it often or not.

Memory is unreliable.

I can't relate to my past.

So much has changed.

I would like to see

my past clearly...

but I- I can't

trust my memory.

I think memory

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