NESTOR: Listen don’t get insulted and storm off or anything but I see fear when I look at your face.
LINDA: Insulted? By a compliment to my powers of perception?
NESTOR: So don’t go then.
LINDA: Can’t see how one follows from the other.
( Nestor looks to Clarissa. )
CLARISSA: He’s actually right in the sense that it’s a needless risk. Anything we need to discover of his intentions we can ascertain here, together and armed.
LINDA: I don’t trust him. ( gestures at Nestor )
NESTOR: Stay and I won’t harm him, I promise, until we’re sure.
LINDA: Not surety enough I’m afraid.
CLARISSA: You just admitted to fear.
LINDA: But also to not understanding your link between that and a consequent inaction.
( Nestor somewhat raises the gun at Linda. )
NESTOR: Well there’s no time to explain but you’re staying.
LINDA: If I’m right you can explain it to me later and if I leave in error you’ll need to conserve as much breath as possible. Either way put that thing down as I’m not sure all our troubles aren’t directly traceable to it.
( She leaves. Nestor drops to a sitting position on the floor. He looks at his hands, one of which continues to hold the gun. )
NESTOR: Think I see her blood on them already. See it?
( He shows Clarissa his palms. )
Why bother to plan with Chaos as partner? See the blood?
( Shows her his palms again then places the nose of the gun under his chin as his hand trembles. )
CLARISSA: Don’t.
NESTOR: Do you find the question difficult? Just look at my hands and tell me if they’re awash with Linda’s blood.
CLARISSA: I’m not sure, only you can tell for sure.
NESTOR: I know why you can’t tell.
( He removes the gun from his chin and points it at Clarissa. )
I see now that you wanted her to go.
( A mournful sigh, barely audible, is heard from outside. )
CLARISSA: What was that?
( She runs over to the telescope and looks through it while Nestor remains seated but follows her with the gun. )
I see nothing!
NESTOR: What does Nothing look like? Is it as terrible as it sounds?
Were I you I’d start thinking of a really compelling explanation because I am all but out of patience.
NESTOR: Don’t crowd me Clarissa.
( He raises the gun at her. )
CLARISSA: I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?
( She quickly grabs his wrist, swings to his side like a matador, bends said wrist into what appears to be an excruciatingly painful position, and removes the gun which she now puts to his head.)
NESTOR: Take it easy.
CLARISSA: Not in the mood for ease. Explain what I see when I look through that thing!
NESTOR: How can I? Ignorant as I am of what you saw has you so worked up.
CLARISSA: I just told you. But see for yourself and feign surprise if you must.
( She pushes him via the gun to the telescope. )
NESTOR: I don’t see blackness.
CLARISSA: What are you talking about?
( She presses the gun to his temple. )
NESTOR: That’s emptiness, not blackness.
CLARISSA: Not so interested in what you’d call it as in how you explain it!
NESTOR: Explain emptiness? How it suffuses everything yet still retains the patina of a long-held secret recently spilled? If I could explain all that would I really be subjugated at the end of a gun right now?
CLARISSA: You said you saw things, described them in grim detail. You cost us Linda by saying those things! When you wonder shortly at the bullet lodged in your skull you can credit your homicidal artifice.
NESTOR: There was none. I reported what I saw, no different than you just did. I’m no more responsible for the content of those visions than a camera.