Dead Space

by Lee Goldberg

  "We're talking about the same person, right? The kid from Family Matters."

  "He's got a huge following," Eddie added. "He could be the next Will Smith."

  "Will Smith didn't play a mousy-mouthed nerd for ten years," she said impatiently. "Is this the best you can do?"

  "I say, let's stop searching in the dark for the next teen idol," Burley said. "Let's bank on proven appeal. I can get Kent McCord on the stage and in uniform in two hours."

  She sat back in her chair and regarded them both. "Hey, let's go for broke. What about Lee Horsley?"

  "Now we're on to something," Burley said, shooting Eddie a smile.

  But Eddie wasn't smiling. He was on the verge of crying. That idiot Jackson Burley was going to get them both thrown off the show.

  Kim stood up. "I'm wondering if we have the right creative team on this show."

  Eddie figured he had five seconds to save his professional life. "There is one actor who has proven appeal and has the potential to be the next break out star."

  "Who?" she asked.

  Good question. Eddie didn't have the slightest idea. He glanced at her, then at Burley, drawing the moment out as if he was toying with them, instead of frantically searching his mind for a name. Hundreds of faces flew across his psyche like numbers on a roulette wheel.

  He was about to speak, to say the first name that occurred to him, when the door to Kim's office flew open and Charlie Willis marched in, a gash on his forehead, dried blood all over his shirt, and tiny bits of broken glass in his hair.

  "Charlie Willis," Eddie blurted out.

  And, as if on cue, Charlie said: "I want to be the next Captain Pierce."

  "You're joking," Kim said.

  She wasn't half as stunned as Eddie.

  "I've never been more serious," Charlie replied. "If I am the star of Beyond the Beyond, the killers will make me their next target."

  Kim stared at Charlie. "It looks like they already have."

  It took firefighters twenty minutes to pry him out of the car with the jaws-of-life, but besides 42 stitches in various parts of his body and a world-class headache, he came out just fine.

  "Charlie Willis is absolutely the wrong choice, which makes him the right choice," Eddie had no idea what he was saying, but he meant it passionately. "Cutting edge, risky, unpredictable."

  "My Gun Has Bullets was a notorious bomb," she replied.

  "Only because he murdered someone," added Burley, who created the show and still believed it could have been a hit, albeit with Kent McCord. "It was a solid franchise with drawing power."

  "You're a lousy actor, Charlie." she said. "No one wants to see you back on television."

  "It won't get that far," he said. "This is an undercover assignment. I have no intention of actually staying with the show, assuming I survive the attempt on my life."

  "Just announcing you've got the part will destroy the show before it even gets on the air," she said. "The press remembers you as a joke."

  "No, they remember him as the guy who kicked the mob out of prime time," said Eddie, hoping to score a few points with Charlie and Kim at the same time. "Right now, the press isn't interested in the show, they are interested in the murders. If we cast anyone else but Charlie Willis, it will stay that way. Charlie will be news. He's the one person who will focus attention back on the show."

  And more importantly to Eddie, it would make Charlie the target of Guy Goddard's wrath and not him. "I also think Charlie has George Clooney potential."

  Kim looked at Charlie. "Can you guarantee that the killers will take a shot at you before we start shooting? What if we have to go on the air with you? It will kill the show and the network."

  "That's a risk we have to take," Charlie said. "Because if you cast another actor as Captain Pierce, you could be sentencing him to death."

  Eddie had to admire Charlie. That was a line that begged for a pulse-pounding music cue and a freeze frame. The guy was a rotten actor, and a dullard, but he had a knack for the melodramatic.

  She met Charlie's gaze while waving off the others. "I want to talk to him alone. You two, wait outside."

  Eddie Planet and Jackson Burley hurried out, knowing there was nothing more they could do anyway. As soon as the door was closed, Kim got in Charlie's face.

  "So this is it, Charlie. The pay-off. It sure didn't take you long."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Oh, don't give me any more of your nauseating do-gooder bullshit," she snapped. "This is blackmail. You want a network series, $35,000 an episode or you'll reveal my secret."

  Charlie took a deep breath before speaking, he wanted to remain calm. "I'm not interested in the money or the show. I just don't want anyone else to die."

  She applauded. "Very good. You projected the sincerity, but you have to work on capturing the emotion."

  "As long as I'm the star, I won't have to find the killers. They'll find me," he said. "Whoever they are, they don't want Beyond the Beyond to get on the air. I'll catch them or they'll kill me, either way it goes, I won't be in the show when it premieres."

  Kim looked at him. "I don't believe you. No one is that self-less."

  Charlie shrugged. "Fine. I'm blackmailing you. Do I get the show or don't I?"

  He saw the answer in the hatred and frustration in her eyes.

  For the second time in his life, Charlie Willis was going to be a TV star.

  * * * * * *

  It took 26 rolls of heavy duty duct tape to secure Clive Odett to the toilet in the starship Endeavor's high-security brig, which looked to the untrained eye like a typical ¼ bath decorated with Beyond the Beyond wallpaper.

  Thrack and Bev stripped him, sat him on the open seat, and taped him into place, his arms bound to his sides, his legs stuck tight against the porcelain. This way, neither of them would have to clean up after him or risk him escaping during a trip to the can.

  But their ingenuity didn't end there. They took ten soft-drink straws, stolen from McDonalds, Scotch-taped together to make one giant straw, stuck one end in the toilet tank and the other to his face. That way, he always had something to drink. Finally, they tied a string around the flusher and ran it up to Odett's ear. All he had to do was lower his head, and he could flush his own toilet.

  All that was left was feeding him. Otherwise, he was a totally self-cleaning prisoner.

  Clive Odett didn't appreciate their thoughtfulness. The moment he opened his eyes, and saw his reflection in the vanity mirror, he started squirming so much, Thrack had to whack him with the plunger a few times to calm him down.

  Subdued and bleeding, Odett stared furiously at his captors, a woman with an elephant nose and a guy with a roll of duct tape stuck on the bulge in his pants.

  "Don't fuck with the force field," Thrack said. "Have some water and relax."

  Odett slurped some water from the straw and spit it at Thrack. The ensign was about to calm Odett down some more when Captain Pierce showed up.

  "That's enough," Pierce said. "He has to be alert if he's going to talk to these aliens."

  The sight of himself taped to a toilet was shocking enough for Clive Odett. But the sight of Guy Goddard, in his faded Beyond the Beyond uniform, made what was already a surreal experience all the more horrific.

  "You expect me to represent you?" Odett said.

  "Not me," the Captain said, "the Confederation of Aligned Galaxies. You have to let the aliens know this insidious conspiracy will never succeed."

  "What aliens?" Odett asked.

  "The ones attempting to replace the crew of the Endeavor with evil doubles," he said. "They must be stopped at all costs."

  Odett suddenly realized who killed his clients. It wasn't another agency, it was a this bunch, a has-been actor and his deranged groupies. Now they expected him to negotiate a deal to get Guy Goddard back on the show.

  "You didn't have to go to all this trouble," Odett said. "It would be my privilege to help an actor of your stature in the industry.
Whatever you want is within your grasp with The Company behind you. Let's go down to my office, go over the deal points and work out a negotiating strategy."

  "Yes, you definitely speak their language," Captain Pierce smiled. "We'll talk again, Mr. Odett."

  Captain Pierce walked out. Thrack and Bev followed after him, closing the door behind them.

  Odett stared at his reflection in the mirror. Right now, Zita was probably slitting throats all over town looking for him. The blood of a thousand agents would flow down Wilshire Boulevard and all for nothing. Zita would never figure out where he was, this kind of insanity wouldn't occur to anyone.

  He was on his own. The master negotiator would have to talk his way out of this. Then he'd come back and kill each and every one of them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  'Beyond' in Planet's Orbit; Charlie Willis to Star

  HOLLYWOOD - In a stunning development, cop-turned-actor Charlie Willis will limn Capt. Pierce in the Big Network's Beyond The Beyond revival, stepping in for Chad Shaw, who was killed in a mugging earlier this week.

  This will mark the return of Willis to the small screen he bloodied only a few, short years ago as star of the infamous My Gun Has Bullets series, which claimed one life and the career of TV's grand dame, Esther Radcliffe.

  "He's thrilled to be back in series television," says Eddie Planet, Beyond the Beyond's new executive producer, taking over the reins in the wake of creator Conrad Stipe's brutal murder.

  Willis disappeared from the public eye after the My Gun Has Bullets scandal and industry wags are said to be shocked he'd peg his return on another violence-plagued production.

  "Charlie Willis embraces risk," says Planet, defending his controversial casting decision. "He embodies the strength, courage, and determination that has made Capt. Pierce a hero to generations of fans. Any other actor would be just be playing the part. Charlie Willis is the part."

  Terry Bloss will segue from the defunct Peter Pan into the role of Mr. Snork, replacing Leigh Dickson, who was killed by a hit-and-run driver. Spring Dano remains as Dr. Kelvin.

  Planet promises the addition of Willis to the cast will give "a gritty, Tarantino edge" to the deep space adventures...

  * * * * * *

  Eddie Planet was reading Daily Variety and enjoying his new, heated toilet seat for the first time, when he got a phone call from another galaxy.

  "Planet here," Eddie said.

  "This is Captain Rick Pierce of the Confederation starship Endeavor," said the familiar voice. "According to a deep space transmission I've intercepted, you have replaced Conrad Stipe in the Confederation high command."

  "If you're saying I'm the new executive producer of Beyond the Beyond, that's true," Eddie had to be careful what he said. He didn't want to piss the lunatic off, but he also didn't want to say anything that could be incriminating if the police were tapping Goddard's phone. "What can I do for you?"

  "Give me back my ship!" Captain Pierce yelled.

  "You know I'd like to, but network has given the job to somebody else," said Eddie. "Charlie Willis is our new Captain."

  "Will the network listen to Clive Odett?"

  Odett was representing Guy Goddard? Eddie didn't believe it any more than he believed Goddard really commanded a starship.

  "They might," Eddie replied, "but the Charlie Willis deal is locked."

  "We'll see about that," Captain Pierce hung up.

  Eddie set the receiver back in its cradle, pleased with his performance. If anyone was listening, nothing he said could come back to haunt him. And he made it clear to Goddard that the network was the villain, not Eddie.

  Of course, he'd also made Charlie Willis a target. But isn't that what Charlie wanted? Besides, Charlie could take care of himself.

  Just to be on the safe side, though, Eddie decided not to leave the safety of the studio. He'd live in his office, where he had everything a man could want.

  Eddie wrote a note to himself on the Daily Variety to have his brass plaque placed on the studio's best table as soon as possible.

  * * * * * *

  Thrack of Oberon stood with his hands on his hips facing Artie and Bev, who took turns trying to toss plastic rings on his super-warp plasma pleasure warhead.

  After both Melvah and Bev failed to diminish his turgescence, he had tried to whip the beast into shape himself, but only succeeded in spraining both his wrists.

  He began to wonder if his erection would ever go away. It was painful and uncomfortable, but it could make him a real babe magnet at the Beyondcon. He was pondering that possibility, when the landing party returned from Thrifty Mart with potato chips, beer, cheese whiz, and some plastic rings.

  Now his plight became a pleasant way to pass the time in the back yard until their next mission.

  He looked down to see that Bev succeeded in landing three rings on his bulge. He was impressed with her aim and his size.

  "Congratulations," Thrack said. "You win. Anyone up for some baseball?"

  Before the others could answer, Captain Pierce stormed out of the house, a rolled up Daily Variety gripped in his hand. "Red alert!"

  His crew quickly lined up in a row, side by side, for his inspection.

  The Captain couldn't help but look at Thrack's most prominent feature, which now sported three plastic rings. "It's bad enough it's still there, do you have to decorate it?"

  He turned his back on Thrack, who quickly slid the rings off. The Captain stepped up to Artie and slapped his chest with the Variety. "The aliens have found another impersonator for me. Destroy him."

  "I've developed a powerful new weapon," Artie said. "I'm dying to give it a test."

  "Make it so," the Captain said.

  * * * * * *

  McGarrett lay beside Charlie Willis' recliner, barking in his sleep and passing gas.

  It was Charlie's fault. For lunch, he roasted a couple hot-dogs on the Grill-Master out back, piled them high with relish, onions and mustard, and gave one of them to McGarrett, then let the dog wash it down with a light beer.

  Charlie figured the dog only had a couple good years left, he ought to have the things he enjoyed, even if it meant some foul air. He lifted his t-shirt up over his nose and thought about what happened yesterday at Pinnacle City.

  The hot dog and a couple painkillers didn't make things any clearer.

  Could he be certain it was Clive Odett's Hummer that he saw? After all, he didn't actually see Odett in the car. Charlie called Lou, who checked with Odett's office. According to Odett's personal assistant, the super-agent wasn't at Pinnacle City yesterday, he was away on a religious retreat. Since no one reported him missing, there was nothing the police could do.

  Maybe the carjacking incident had nothing to do with Clive Odett or the Beyond the Beyond killings. Or maybe it did. It was all a confusing muddle.

  But now he didn't have to figure it out. The bad guys, whoever they were, would step right up and introduce themselves.

  His portable phone rang. He snatched it up and said hello.

  "One minute you're managing a storage unit and the next thing you know, you're a TV star," Alison Sweeney said. "See what a kiss from me can do?"

  It suddenly hit him that in the chaos of the last 24 hours, he forgot to call her. He felt terrible.

  "I'm sorry you had to read about it," he said, pacing in front of the window. "I should have called you."

  "It's okay, I know how busy you stars can be."

  "I have no intention of sticking with the show," he said. "I'm setting myself up as the target so the next time the killers strike, no one else will get hurt."

  "Except you."

  "Don't knock it, it was your idea," he joked, trying to lighten things up. He failed.

  "Don't you dare make me responsible for this," she snapped. "It's a stupid plan. And if you had called me, I would have done everything I could to make sure it didn't happen."

  She hung up.

  Charlie tossed the phone on the recliner. She
had a point. Maybe that was the real reason he hadn't called her.

  He glanced out the window and saw a guy standing on the sidewalk in an orange, polyester uniform, a tank strapped to his back, holding some kind of hose in his gloved hands. At first, Charlie thought it was the exterminator. But he didn't call one, and something wasn't right about this guy.

  So Charlie stepped closer to the window and squinted at him. The guy turned towards the building, and that's when Charlie saw his hairy, pointed ear and dead, yellow eye. And that's also when he noticed the thing the guy was holding looked a lot like...

  ...a flamethrower.

  Charlie dived to the floor the same instant the stream of fire smashed through the front window and splashed against the recliner, setting it aflame and melting the phone.

  McGarrett dashed out the open back door, head and tail hung low, fur smoking, passing gas the whole way.

  Charlie tipped over the coffee table and, using it as a shield, peered out the window to get a better look at crazy son of a bitch who was trying to kill him.

  The assassin, disguised like some kind of hell horse, marched toward the window, spraying the room with fire, washing everything down with flames.

  The hell horse spotted Charlie and blasted the coffee table, turning it into fireball. Charlie scrambled back, everything around him on fire, the hair on his arms singed off.

  He crawled out the back door, the flames licking at him. Safely outside, he slumped against his Grill-Master, gasping for breath, finding it all very hard to believe. Thirty seconds ago he was just sitting in his recliner, listening to his dog fart. It never occurred to him that someone might come after him with a flame-thrower.

  He had to think fast. The entire apartment was engulfed in flames, and in two seconds the killer was going to come back here after him.

  Charlie looked around. There was no place to hide. All the storage units were locked.

  There was also no place to run. The fences around the property were ringed with razor wire. If he tried to climb them, he'd snag himself for sure.

  He was trapped.