Facing the four silent men, Johnny thumbed out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, touched his lighter to it, drew a long slow puff. "Man, that goes good...." The cigarette was not lighted. Hoskins turned away, an expression of sick pity on his face. Ives reached abruptly for his own lighter, and the doctor checked him with a gesture. "Every time I see a hot pilot work I'm amazed," Paresi said conversationally. "Such concentration ... you must be tuckered, Johnny." Johnny puffed at his unlit cigarette. "Tuckered," he said. "Yeah." There were two odd undertones to his voice suddenly. They were fatigue, and eagerness. Paresi said, "You're off-watch, John. Go stretch out." "Real tired," mumbled Johnny. He lumbered to his feet and went aft, where he rolled to the couch and was almost instantly asleep. The others congregated far forward around the controls, and for a long moment stared silently at the sleeping pilot. "I don't get it," murmured Ives. "He really thought he flew us out, didn't he?" asked Hoskins. Paresi nodded. "Had to. There isn't any place in his cosmos for machines that don't work. Contrary evidence can get just so strong. Then, for him, it ceased to exist. A faulty cigarette lighter irritated him, a failing airlock control made him angry and sullen and then hysterical. When the drive controls wouldn't respond, he reached his breaking point. Everyone has such a breaking point, and arrives at it just that way if he's pushed far enough." "Everyone?" Paresi looked from face to face, and nodded somberly. Anderson asked, "What knocked him out? He's trained to take far more strain than that." "Oh, he isn't suffering from any physical or conscious mental fatigue. The one thing he wanted to do was to get away from a terrifying situation. He convinced himself that he flew out of it. The next best thing he could do to keep anything else from attacking him was to sleep. He very much appreciated my suggestion that he was worn out and needed to stretch out." "I'd very much appreciate some such," said Ives. "Do it to me, Nick." "Reach your breaking point first," said the doctor flatly, and went to place a pillow between Johnny's head and a guard-rail. Hoskins turned away to stare at the peaceful landscape outside. The Captain watched him for a moment, then: "Hoskins!" "Aye." "I've seen that expression before. What are you thinking about?" The engineer looked at him, shrugged, and said mildly, "Chess." "What, especially?" "Oh, a very general thing. The reciprocity of the game. That's what makes it the magnificent thing it is. Most human enterprises can gang up on a man, slap him with one disaster after another without pause. But not chess. No matter who your opponent might be, every time he does something to you, _it's your move_." "Very comforting. Have you any idea of how we move now?" Hoskins looked at him, a gentle surprise on his aging face. "You missed my point, Skipper. _We_ don't move."