. . .

She pushes lightly on the umbrella. He backs into the bank. She follows.

“Fear not, Mr. Bertram Gulley,” says the space princess assassin. “I am not without mercy. I am sworn to always give my victims one . . . slim . . . chance at survival.”

He gets a step ahead of the umbrella. Two steps. This apparently conforms to her plan and not his own as a gun muzzle flicks out a step and a half from her umbrella’s tip.

“Let us play a game,” says Maria. “Mr. Bertram Gulley, and if you win — well . . .”

“Tag,” says Bertram, frantically. “I’m it!”

Maria leaps back and out of the way as he moves forward. He flees the bank without tagging her. She blinks.

“I didn’t mean to say just any game,” she protests.

She hesitates.

“God, Maria!” she says. She beats her head on the wall of the bank. “You are the worst space princess assassin ever!”

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