Chapter Two“You want to complain about me,” the Chief Madam said. Her image wavered on the screen.
Yes, so he could complain about her secretive and controlling behavior. Just like a damn stupid woman.
Big Daddy tapped on the console his unlit cigar. He frowned, jowls wobbling. “Is there anybody above you?”
“Do your work, Joseph,” the Chief said. “You'll know in due course.”
“Will I live that long?”
“Yes, Joseph, we'll all live that long. Be patient.”
Big Daddy wasn't a patient man, but his fear of the Chief Madam forced him to forego the topic. His wife Sweet Foot would know. He would confront his telepathic wife, who knew everything, he thought, one of the reasons he hated her.
Big Daddy traveled from the time machine in 3026 to his Mercedes in the early 21st century. The car was
