by Ben Bova
“I’ll be damned,” Gabriel said.
“Never overestimate the taste of the American public,” Brenda said.
Oxnard added, “And the show’s bringing money into my lab, as well. People are seeing how good the new system is and they’re showering us with orders. We’re working three shifts now and I’m expanding the staff and adding more floor space for production.”
Gabriel gave an impressed grunt.
“What Bill doesn’t seem to realize,” Brenda said, “is that it’s really his holographic system that’s created so much interest in ‘The Starcrossed.’ Nobody’d stare at Rita Yearling for long if she didn’t look so solid.”
“I don’t know about that,” Oxnard protested.
“It’s true,” Brenda said. “All the networks and production companies have placed orders for the new system. Everybody’ll have it by next season.”
“Then there goes Titanic’s edge over the competition,” Gabriel said, sounding satisfied with the idea.
Not quite,” Oxnard said. “What do you mean?”
How to phrase this? he wondered. Carefully, Oxnard said, “Well… I made a slip of the tongue to a reporter from an electronics newspaper, about computerizing the system so you can animate still photos…”
“You mean that thing about getting rid of the actors?”
“Somehow B.F. heard about it while he was recuperating from his seizure,” Brenda took over, “and made Bill an offer to develop the system for Titanic.”
“So I’m going to work with him on it,” Oxnard concluded.
Gabriel’s face froze in a scowl. “Why? Why do anything for that lying bastard?”
Oxnard shot a glance at Brenda, then replied, “He was sick. Those New York bankers were pressuring him. So I agreed to work with him on it. It impressed the bankers, helped make them happier with a small return on ‘The Starcrossed.’ ” Call it a present to a prospective father-in-law, he added silently.
“You oughtta have your head examined,” Gabriel said. “He’ll just try to screw you again.”
“I suppose so,” Oxnard agreed cheerfully.
But Gabriel chuckled. “I think I’m going to drop a little hint about this to some of my acting friends. They’ve got a guild, too…”
Brenda said, “Do me a favor, Ron? Wait a month… until he’s strong enough to fight back.”
“Why should I?”
“For me,” she said. He stared at her.
“For you?”
“Please.”
He didn’t like it, that was clear. But he muttered, “Okay. One month. But no longer than that.”
Brenda gave him her best smile. “Thanks, Ron. I knew you were just a pussycat at heart.”
Gabriel shook his head. “It’s just not fair! Dammit, Finger goes around screwing everybody in sight and comes up smelling like orchids. Every goddamned time!l He works you to death, Brenda, sticks you with all the shit jobs…”
“That’s true,” she admitted.
“Leaves me high and dry…”
“You got your award,” Oxnard said.
“Can’t eat awards. I need work! There’s nothing coming in except a few little royalties and residuals. And your mother-humping B.F. has spread the word all over town that I’m too cranky to work with.”
Oxnard broke in, “Come to work with me, Ron.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Sure,” Oxnard said. “Listen to me, both of you. Why should you have to put up with all this lunacy and nonsense? Ron, how long can you stand to be trampled by idiots like Earnest and that Canadian censor? Come to work with mel I need a good writer to direct our advertising and public relations staffs. You can be a consultant… work one day a week at the lab and spend the rest of the time free to write the books you’ve always wanted to write.”
Before Gabriel could answer, Oxnard turned to Brenda. “And you too. You’re a top-flight administrator, Brenda. Come to work with me. Why should you give yourself ulcers and high blood pressure over some dumb TV show? We can be a team, a real team—the three of us.”
She looked shocked.
Oxnard turned back to Gabriel. “I mean it, Ron. You’d enjoy the work, I know.” He looked back and forth, from Gabriel to Brenda and back again. “Well? How about it? Will you both come to work at Oxnard Labs?”
In unison they replied, “What? And quit show business?”
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