The Future Is Closer Than You Think

by Zaslow Crane

  Sometimes he’d act that way after each show for the entire tour! His actions impacted morale, and defections in the dead of night were not unheard of, despite the money he offered.

  “Nothing is worth this crazy bullshit!” She’d heard musicians, technicians and roadies mutter many times during her tenure with Janus.

  Then she’d access her network and hastily find a replacement, paying whatever it took, because if she didn’t, she was guaranteed even more complaints from The Boss.

  His morale, if it dipped even lower could make the tour hell! This tour was well past the halfway point, and so, Janus had developed an even more insightful, demanding and pointed list of changes to be made to approach his ideal of pop perfection. Nevermind that the tour was by now almost over. Janus never let up.

  lll “Mr. Washington, I’m afraid that I have some bad news for you, sir.”

  “Please call me Janus, Dr. Groves.” Now, at twenty-nine, Janus had accreted the gravitas of someone far older. When he spoke, he commanded attention.

  “Alright, Mr. Janus.”

  “No doctor. Janus. Just Janus. No mister. We’ve had this conversation before, doctor.”

  “Yes, I suppose we have…”

  “Anyway, you’ve scanned my legs and you’re going to tell me about this pain that’s developed in both my thighs. The right one is the worst.” He tapped his right thigh unconsciously with a forefinger. He beat out a little rhythm without thinking about it.

  It was: “Backbeating”…or “Mommy” (reprise)…

  “Yes, yes…well, Janus, it is as I feared, back when you brought me in to head the team that reworked your hips and knees. I feared then, that your inherent bone structure would not take the stress that the combination of your…um…rigorous style of performing demands and the strain of the titanium against mere bone. It’s quite possible that your thigh is literally beginning to flake and might be breaking apart from the stress you create. The hip insert, in the top of your thigh bone, is destroying what bone structure you have left. I’m sorry. We talked about this possibility then. I advised against the operation, but I, and well, our entire team has done the best we could—not only during the operation and through the follow-up therapies. Also with the ultrasound treatments, the stimuli we’ve administered and the dietary supplements specially designed for you. All was for nothing, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Janus listened to all this stoically. It chilled him because he understood the implications of what was being said to him: My body is letting me down.

  He’d surmised as much himself in quiet and painful moments of the most recent “Jazz” tour.

  “Okay, doctor. What do we do now?”

  “Well, first I advise bed rest, therapy and a much more… restrained schedule. Perhaps design new shows with no knee drops, dancing and other stressors to your lower torso.”

  Janus listened to this calmly as well. He’d already formulated a plan of his own, but it involved none of the ideas just outlined by his physician.

  “Doctor. Here is what I’d like us to do.”

  “Yes?”

  “Prep for another series of operations. You mentioned another possibility back when we began this. You mentioned a total replacement.”

  “No! Janus!”

  The doctor was almost pleading and his staff looked at each other anxiously.

  “Yes, please. I’ll need my femurs replaced. Both of them. Make them work with the hips properly. I’m constantly having to go back to Robotics and Actuation for tweaking and tune-ups.”

  “We talked about the possibility of that happening.”

  Janus put up a delicate-looking but powerful hand cutting him off.

  “Yes, but it’s getting out of hand now! Plus, with the pain I can’t think anymore! Just take it all out and start again!”

  “But Janus….”

  “If there’s any doubt that my lower legs will hold up; being the next items down the line that might fail. If there’s any doubt, then be prepared to replace them too! (Then I’ll only have to contend with my ankles and feet!)”

  “But Janus!”

  “How long will it take you be fully prepared?”

  “Janus, I don’t think-”

  “How long, Doctor?”

  Janus fixed this world renowned surgeon with an icy glare. “I will have what I need! If I can’t get it from you, I’ll look elsewhere! How long?”

  Groves caved. He began thinking aloud, stalling for time. “Beefing up the Actuation team, robotics…field testing new technologies, before implantation…”

  He made a face that said he’d just been put in a position that placed him firmly between a rock and a hard place. There was the not inconsiderable amount of money he was being paid, and he was responsible for the livelihoods of the staff; the people that he’d brought in with him. Then, there was this very powerful single-minded personality he was dealing with. Finally there was the Hippocratic Oath: “Do no harm..”

  “It…it might take six or seven months…” Groves looked around at the others in the room for some help; for someone to scream: “NO!” Many of the others were employed by Janus and contradicting him when he wanted something so bad was not conducive to long term employment, so Groves got no help from anyone present.

  For once Janus smiled. It was a satisfied and happy smile, laced with determination.

  “Good! Six months it is! Be ready! I will be! See Lily with your budgetary and personnel needs. She’ll send them off to the appropriate bean counters, etcetera and I’ll call them myself in a couple of days to see to it that there are no snags and no delays!”

  He turned to go, catching himself up short a bit, because turning and striding was what hurt the most.

  Everyone noticed his pain.

  Groves noticed too and sincerely wanted to alleviate his pain. Just not in the way that Janus had decided upon.

  Rest…My young God…Rest, he thought.

  “Goodbye doctor. I look forward to feeling no more pain and getting my life and my moves back.”

  He left, with his entourage leaving the room feeling as if Groves were now drifting in the void of space itself.

  Janus turned abruptly in the doorway. He flinched again.

  “Oh, and by the way doctor?

  “Yes?”

  “As long as we’re going to go through all this, I’m only five foot seven.”

  “Yes? Yes you are. That’s right.”

  “Well, as long as we’re going to go through all this expense and pain, I think it’d be nice if I ended up being five foot nine. I’ve had my people do the math. Five foot nine is all we can manage without a massive rework. So I’ll need this new spec to be integrated into the Plan. Thank you.”

  Janus smiled, but there was not much warmth in that grin.

  “Goodbye. I’ll stay in touch. I expect that I’ll be hearing from you a lot in the coming months with updates on your preparations.”

  The threat…or demand was like a dead, rotting flower that had just been delivered from the outside.

  The noise attendant from a dozen or so handlers, sycophants and employees receded quickly down the hall, the echoes receding away down the hallway from Groves’ antiseptic office.

  Lily waved and mouthed, “I’ll call you!” before she disappeared through the doctor’s outer door.

  Groves eyes searched for answers, his mind swirled, and he muttered, ”What have I done?”

  lll Janus spoke to Lily in hushed tones, as they were walking away from Grove’s Office, “I’ve had Llad do calculations and five foot nine is as tall as I can be without disturbing my equilibrium; my moves; my stability. Making me a lot taller would be great, but it’d make my moves much more difficult or even impossible. It’ll be wonderful, won’t it? I’ll be average height!”

  Llad was Janus’ lead mathematician. Everything was math, and if a problem was first confronted as a mathematical problem, it was usually solved quickly.

  Quickly was good when dea
ling with the mercurial, dogged and peripatetic sensibilities of Janus. Llad had a lot of work and complete job security.

  lll The next year was a blur of preparation, operations, and finally, recovery. Janus, always anxious to get back in the studio and back performing for his fans, decided that eighteen months is too long without Janus’ presence on the scene. Since there was six months prep, six month’s recovery and six months mounting the new show, he directed his publishing company to put out a greatest hits compilation in the middle of that time to return him to his fans’ thoughts and whet their appetites for the new show coming soon.

  “We’ll leak a few details here,” indicating a source that could be quoted on the viddies; and a few different details to her.” He indicated a name on a list of friendly press people.

  “Later we’ll release a few more details just before we allow a leaked rough-cut vid from a rehearsal.” He looked up as if he were a general planning a war campaign, and he was addressing a roomful of other generals who would follow his directives.

  “That should be about a week before the first tickets go on sale for the first concert in…?” He looked around. Lily consulted her upgraded flimsey. “That will be…Barcelona, Janus.”

  “Good. The Spanish love me. We’ll begin in Barcelona and release the viddie a week before we start selling tickets. We’ll allow my fans to see a 20-second snippet from reheasals of the upcoming show. That’ll spark sales like crazy!”

  “But Janus, do you think it’s wise to do a show on the old North Korea’s Dear Leader? That was years ago! Will anyone remember? Will anyone care?”

  “They’ll care after they see me! I’ve been writing the songs, the story and the stage notes every moment while I was laid up.“

  “We know, Janus.”

  “And, by the time we hit the stage, people will be ready to scream and go wild, like they always do!”

  “Yes, Janus.”

  lll Infotainment Tonight proclaimed: “ The Dear Leader World Tour was originally set for 100 nights, 72 cities, spaced over a twohundred-day schedule. Grueling for any performer; simply the next logical step for Janus’ grand aspirations.”

  Unfortunately The Dear Leader Tour was so poorly received that the tour was over in less than three months!

  lll This is a disaster! Lily fretted over the preliminary figures. Janus was resting in the next room after the final show of the tour. Now that all the figures were in, Lily could assess the damage. Janus’ finances would take a substantial hit! So substantial that it momentarily took Lily’s breath away.

  He was already one of the three or four wealthiest people in the world, and he could afford it; but even Janus would notice this!

  The failure of this World Tour was nearly on a par with BBBluuuto’s disastrous Galaxy Akimbo Tour, which ultimately caused the breakup of the band and the murder/suicide of the writing duo/leaders. That was the worst melt down in pop history! The Dear Leader Tour was a strong candidate for second worst. Only the most diehard fans even bothered to download the music.

  As for the God of Pop, himself—anyone else might be disappointed, inconsolable, or worse. Others might doggedly go back to the drawing board, figure out what went wrong, re-tool, re-purpose and try again.

  However, Janus already knew what was wrong, and he’d become impossible to be around and, impossible to even talk with these days.

  Staff had begun quitting in droves, because even at the best of times, Janus was difficult. At this the first major setback of his career, he’d become a like wounded lion. Angry, always ready for a fight and always ready with an unkind comment.

  Lily looked at the roster and the possible replacements. After a time, with all that anger and negativity, no amount of money would suffice.

  Good thing I had my doctor upgrade my meds. She giggled privately. Janus can say anything. I’ll be alright.

  “Lily?” Janus was at the door. Lily started. He was so quiet sometimes, almost as if he really wanted to sneak up on you!

  “Can we get a few friendly press types over here, say tomorrow morning before we close up shop for good and I go back to Cuesta?”

  “Sure Janus. What do you want me to tell them?”

  Janus eyes looked as if he’d lost a fight. Not simply bloodied, nor bruised, but hurt, wounded…maybe defeated.

  “Just get them here. I have to do some sort of mea culpa. I may as well get this over with. I want to get the word out. I fucked up. But I’ll be back, bigger and better than ever! I want to send it out through a few in the press who haven’t maligned me, okay?”

  “Sure, sure. I’ll get right on it. I’ll set it up for…nine?”

  “Make it ten.”

  Without even a further acknowledgement, he disappeared back into his solitude.

  Lily’s pulse was racing despite her meds. Any direct contact with him these days caused that to happen.

  Thank God for Paxsilitude™! Thank God I asked for a heftier dose!

  lll Safely back on Cuesta Encantada, Janus met with the leaders of his team of doctors.

  “Well, I screwed up. My voice suffered for not being used for the six months; I was laid up. I should have practiced more, but I was so focused on writing “Dear Leader.”

  The doctors looked at each other nervously.

  Lily had taken it upon herself to triple her dose of Paxsilitude™ in preparation for this meeting. She was confident that nothing could disturb her calm!

  Janus continued, “My voice never came back. Not fully. I couldn’t hit the notes I’d written for myself. I could hit those notes easily when I was younger. I hit them every night on the Mummy tour! And I did it for over 147 nights!”

  He paused. This was the most risky and significant decision of his life. He hesitated for just a moment before going on.

  “My voice failed me. It couldn’t do what I needed when I needed it. We’ll have to replace.…”

  He looked around at the doctors assembled in his private clinic.

  “-My lungs, my vocal chords, even my throat and my tongue. Everything involved in my making sound must be upgraded!”

  “Janus! Do you know what you’re asking?” Dr. Sithra, the head of a newly formed thoracic team spoke first. This request was not a complete surprise. After all he had created a thoracic and otolaryngolist team. They had to have been called in to do something.

  Sithra’s deep olive features were creased in concern. He expressed his distress that a person would just throw away perfectly good organs, and said so. He acted appalled. He wasn’t used to dealing with Janus.

  He won’t last, thought Lily smugly, safely behind her dose of relaxant.

  Groves took a deep breath. He knew what was coming.

  Janus’ eyes flared.

  “Those organs failed me when I needed them. I’m not throwing away perfectly good organs, I’m throwing away defective ones! Haven’t you read the reviews? Didn’t you hear the news? The Dear Leader tour was a flop! I can’t sing anymore! Not like before!”

  “But no one’s ever attempted this radical of an upgrade before.”

  “Which is why each of you was hand-picked, checked out from top to bottom, and brought here! You are…” He looked around the room, pausing for emphasis. “The best there is!”

  “This is such a momentous undertaking. Are you certain?”

  “Yes!” Janus’ eyes blazed! “And in case you’re anxious about being sued, I’ve had a clause written into each of your contracts that will protect you from litigation if the operation should prove to be anything less than 100% successful. I’ve also written in a substantial bonus for each of you if I am happy with my voice afterwards!”

  More than one of the roomful of doctors breathed a secret sigh of relief; more than one of then also began planning to spend the extra money.

  “This will likely take a year or more of recuperation,” another doctor stuttered unsure of the path ahead at this point. He made some hasty notes, and quick calculations based on similar, but far simpler
operations that he’d overseen in the recent past. “Yes, I’d estimate 14 or15 months….”

  “But I’ll be better afterwards?” Janus pressed on.

  “I would expect so, but….”

  “I’ll be better? I’ll be able to hit the notes I write? All the notes?”

  The doctors looked at one another for confirmation or support. Sithra spoke up first, “Based upon the parameters that you’ve set out and coupled with the data that we’ve extrapolated from the scans of your head, nasel cavities, throat muscles, etcetera, yes, we believe so. If you’re intent on doing this, we belive that we’ll eventually be able to tune you as one would a piano or guitar. However your voice will have the elasticity more like that of a synthesizer. I’d expect we could enable your voice to hit nearly any note you wish!”

  Janus grinned like a seven-year-old on Christmas morning!

  Sithra pushed on, still hopeful he could dissuade the star from this drastic course.

  “But it won’t be easy. No indeed! There will be times that I’m quite certain that you’ll wish you were dead! No, indeed, it won’t be easy for you. Not for you or us!”

  “I don’t care if it’s easy for you. And, I don’t expect it to be easy for me. Will this fix the problem? Doctors?”

  “There will be considerable pain…”

  “I don’t care! Will this fix the problem?”

  “Considerable pain! Are you prepared for that?”

  “I don’t care!” Janus was shouting now, daring any to oppose him. “I need to be better! I need to be able to hit the notes that I write! Will you do this for me?!”

  The consensus was hesitant and more or less unwilling. Nevertheless, acting upon the unique set of incentives, the assembled surgeons eventually agreed to plan, schedule and execute the series of operations that Janus required.

  Lily was blown away. No one had ever suggested something so audacious; so radical. I wonder if the failure unhinged him…just a bit? She took another Paxilitude™, content for now that she wasn’t in Janus’ crosshairs.

  She began hurriedly tapping notes into her reader/scheduler, the better to look busy and avoid any chance of conversing with her boss. I guess it’s time to get my resume up-to-date. I wonder who might be looking for a seasoned tour manager? He’s too crazy for me.