His car hummed on, finding its way above the deserted midsection of California, the desolate lands of abandoned towns.

"Did you know that?" he asked his car. "That I've been married to every woman in the group now? And I haven't had any luck, yet, so it must be me. Right?"

The car said, "It's you."

"Even if it were me, it wouldn't be my fault; it's the Red Chinese. I hate them." He lay supine, staring up at the stars through the transparent dome of the car. "I love you, though; I've had you for years. You're never going to wear out." He felt tears rise up in his eyes. "Is that right?"

"It depends on the preventative maintenance you faithfully follow."

"I wonder what kind of woman they'll import for me."

"I wonder," the car echoed.

What other group was his group—Pretty Blue Fox—in closest contact with? Probably Straw Man Special, which met in Las Vegas and represented Bindmen from Nevada, Utah and Idaho. Shutting his eyes, he tried to remember what the women of Straw Man Special looked like.

When I get home to my apartment in Berkeley, Pete said to himself, I'll—and then he remembered something dreadful.

He could not go home to Berkeley. Because he had lost Berkeley in The Game, tonight. Walt Remington had won it from him by calling his bluff on square thirty-six. That was what had made it such a bad night.

"Change course," he said hoarsely to the auto-auto circuit. He still held title deed to most of Marin County; he could stay there. "We'll go to San Rafael," he said, sitting up and rubbing his forehead, groggily.

A male voice said, "Mrs. Gaines?"

Freya, combing her short blonde hair before the mirror, did not look around; absorbed, she thought, It sounds like that awful Bill Calumine.

"Do you want a ride home?" the voice asked, and then Freya realized that it was her new husband, Clem Gaines. "You are going home, aren't you?" Clem Gaines, large and overstuffed, with blue eyes, she thought, like broken glass that had been glued there, and glued slightly awry, strolled across the Game room toward her. It pleased him, obviously, to be married to her.