“Walk with me and I’ll fill you in,” Sandy said. “I have to get some pages to Jerri—she always wants time to ‘get into character.’”
Iola followed Sandy as she swept out of the cafeteria. “Catch you all in a bit,” she said, waving to the Hardys and Chet.
They waved back and headed for the main soundstage. They arrived to find Rich Millani working furiously on one of the big control panels on the ship’s bridge. Bruce Reid, Claudia Rajiv, and other cast members were standing around, studying their scripts, waiting for the problem to be corrected. Rod Webb was clutching a coffee cup so tightly that it was a wonder the cup didn’t burst.
“How much longer?” Webb asked through clenched teeth. “The studio accountants are looking over our shoulders, you know.”
“I’m working as fast as I can,” Millani said.
“I’m here, Mr. Webb,” Chet announced.
“Oh, good,” said Ramon Torres, who was waiting with the rest of the actors. “Maybe you can help Rich fix the control panel.”
“Cut the chatter, Torres,” Webb said. “You’d be better off studying your part.”
“But I don’t have any lines,” Torres replied.
“Lucky us,” Webb said.
Torres crossed his arms over his chest and shot an angry look at Chet and the Hardys, as if they were at fault for his embarrassment.
It took another ten minutes for Rich Millani to correct the problem. Then shooting began at a furious pace.
As the morning wore on, tensions on the set grew. Actors flubbed more lines than they had the day before, and everyone acted nervous between takes. Chet, though, performed well.
“It’s easy for me,” he said during a break. “I don’t have any lines.”
“You do get to make a lot of threatening gestures, though,” Iola observed. She had finished with makeup and was now a green-skinned alien from Betelgeuse.
The Mortons performed in several other scenes, including one where Iola and the other starship crew fled down a corridor away from the invading Slayer from Sirius.
Most of the principal actors were working this day. Jerri Bell and Geoff Gross appeared shortly after lunch and had to wait through a problem with the set lighting. Frank and Joe watched carefully but saw no sign of anyone causing trouble.
The light problem made the pace even more frantic. Between takes, Sandy O’Sullivan worked with Webb to try to tighten the storyline, to save shooting time and costs. They moved from the corridor set to the engine room for the next scene—a fight in which Lieutenant Commander Ravenscroft saved Ensign Allura from the Slayer.
“This is a great scene,” Sandy whispered to the Hardys and Iola just before the final preparations were complete. “Chet’s lucky he gets to play it.”
“That’s my brother,” Iola said. “Just one big lucky guy.”
Jerri Bell gave Chet a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” she asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” Chet said, his reply muffled under the Slayer from Sirius helmet.
“Good luck,” Jerri said, giving him a kiss on the side of the helmet and taking her place on the set.
The scenes with Bell and Gross went well, with both actors requiring few takes to hit their marks and get their lines down. Chet’s lumbering entrance into the engine room went like a dream, too. He fired his Sirian blaster, and Bell’s Ensign Allura fell to the floor, unconscious.
Gross, in his Lieutenant Commander Ravenscroft role, charged the Slayer. Chet swung around and, as planned in the script, swung the Slayer’s armored fist toward Ravenscroft’s face. But Chet and Gross miscalculated the blow.
Instead of coming up short, Chet’s fist clipped the side of Gross’s face. The Spacefleet officer fell to the engine room floor.
Before Webb could yell cut or Chet could apologize, Gross scrambled to his feet and smashed his shoulder into Chet’s stomach.
8 Brawl in Warp Space
Chet staggered backward, more surprised than hurt. He dropped his blaster and landed heavily against one of the engine room consoles. As he hit the set, he pushed Gross away from him. The actor staggered but didn’t go down. Instead, he came up swinging.
Instinctively, Chet brought up his hands and blocked the punch. Gross threw a couple of jabs at Chet’s midsection, but the blows slid off the Slayer’s fiberglass armor.
“Keep rolling!” Webb yelled. “This is great!”
“It’s not in the script,” Sandy said, a note of distress in her voice.
“Who cares, so long as they don’t hurt each other,” Webb replied. “It’s perfect! Gross, Morton, keep going! We’ll worry about removing the set noise in post-production.”
Because Chet’s face was hidden, the Hardys couldn’t tell if he was concerned, but both brothers and Iola exchanged anxious glances. “Should we step in?” Joe whispered.
“I think Chet can handle himself,” Frank replied.
“I hope he clobbers Gross!” Iola whispered.
If the Slayer’s armor offered Chet some protection, it also slowed him down. Gross jabbed at him and then moved away as Chet swung clumsily at the muscular actor.
Gross aimed a kick at the Slayer’s midsection. Chet caught the lieutenant commander’s boot and heaved. Gross went sprawling, barely missing hitting his head on the warp core panel. He got back up with fire in his eyes.
“You may come from Sirius,” Gross said, “but let’s see how you like an old-fashioned Iowa knuckle sandwich!” The actor’s punch clattered against the Slayer’s helmet, and Chet staggered back.
“Great ad-lib!” Webb shouted. “We’ll keep it.”
“Rod,” Sandy said, “I don’t think our insurance company would like this.”
“Just a little more,” the director countered. “It’s only improvisation.”
Jerri Bell, lying on the floor of the engine room, whispered, “If one of them steps on me, I’m taking the rest of the day off!” She kept her eyes closed and hardly moved her lips when she spoke. Several stagehands, including Matt Stiller, chuckled. The coffee boy had paused in his gofer duties to watch the fight.
Chet blocked Gross’s next punch and warded off a kick with the Slayer’s right shin guard. Chet countered with a powerful shove. Gross staggered back into a panel, which shorted out in a display of sparks.
“Great!” Webb yelled.
Snarling, Gross ran forward, but this time Chet was ready for him. When Gross came in, Chet ducked and grabbed the front of the lieutenant commander’s uniform. With a mighty heave, he lifted Gross off the floor like a pro wrestler about to body slam an opponent.
“Marvelous!” Webb cried.
Chet tried to throw Gross, but the actor grabbed the collar of the Slayer’s armor. As Chet lurched under the actor’s weight, Gross slammed his knee into the Slayer’s helmet.
The assembled cast and crew gasped. Chet staggered to his knees. Gross twisted out of his grasp and kicked Chet in his armored chest. The Slayer fell over backward with a resounding thud. Gross moved in, ready to kick him again.
“That’s enough,” Joe said. Before Gross could follow through, Joe and Frank stepped in front of the cameras and between the enraged actor and their friend. Gross glared at them.
“Cut!” Webb yelled. “Cut! Who said those two could step in? They wrecked my shot.”
“Um, Rod . . .” Sandy said, holding up her script and pointing to a section of it.
Webb slapped his forehead. “Right! Right!” he said. “Geoff, didn’t you read the script? You don’t defeat the Slayer in this scene.”
“Sorry,” Gross said. “I guess I got carried away.” He stepped back and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Don’t worry about it,” Webb said, beaming. “We’ll figure out a different ending, right, Sandy?”
“Um, sure,” Sandy said.
Webb was still smiling. “This,” he said, “is why I always keep three cameras rolling.”
Chet lay on his back, wriggling like an overturned tortoise. He pulled off his helmet
. “Help me!” he said. “This suit isn’t made for getting up.”
Joe and Frank gave him a hand. “You okay, Chet?” Frank whispered.
“I’m fine,” Chet said. “I just couldn’t move in the costume is all.”
As Chet rose, the impromptu audience of cast and crew applauded. “Good work, Morton,” Bruce Reid said.
Jerri Bell got up from the engine room floor and dusted herself off. “Peck Wilson could hardly have done better,” she said. “Though next time I hope you boys will tell me when you’re going to improvise. That way, I can fall in a more comfortable position.” She rubbed her hip where she had landed on it.
“Are you kidding?” Geoff Gross said. “This guy is an accident waiting to happen. He could have hurt me with some of those stunts.”
“That goes double for you,” Chet said. “You were the one who started it. And I think you may have cracked the helmet.”
“Better the helmet than your head,” Iola said quietly.
“Calm down, boys,” Claudia Rajiv said. “It all worked out fine. Nobody got hurt, and Rod got some great shots.”
Director Webb nodded. “True,” he said. Then turning to the Hardys he added, “But next time you step in before I yell ‘Cut,’ I’ll have you run off the lot.”
Joe stepped forward as if to say something, but Frank held him back.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Rod,” Sandy said. “Why doesn’t everyone take fifteen to calm down a bit.”
“Yeah, okay,” Webb said. “Let’s take our dinner break. I want everyone to be fresh when we start again. This may be another long night. And, Morton, have Stan Pekar look at that helmet. We don’t want it splitting in half during a crucial scene.”
Chet nodded his agreement and headed for the makeup room. Gross and most of the other cast members drifted off to their dressing rooms. Before he left, Webb pulled Matt Stiller aside. “Find Millani and have him fix the damage to the set. I still want to get a few shots in if we can.”
“Right,” Stiller said, and ran off.
“Well, that was certainly exciting,” Iola said.
“More exciting than I would prefer,” Sandy O’Sullivan said. “Now I have to do more rewrites!”
“Don’t worry, Sandy,” Claudia Rajiv said. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Claudia,” Sandy replied, “I’m not sure if I can handle anything extra right now.”
“If you have to go, we can look after ourselves,” Iola said.
“Actually, I can look after them,” Claudia said.
“Great,” Sandy said. “I’ll be right here figuring out how to fit that fight into the rest of the story.”
“Come on, folks,” Claudia said. “Let’s give the girl some space. Let’s go eat.”
“Sounds good,” said Frank.
“Everyone knows we’re really behind on shooting this episode,” Claudia said confidentially. “Some of the studio accountants have been prowling around, threatening to shut the show down if things don’t shape up.”
“Could they do that?” Joe asked.
Claudia shrugged. “Everyone working on the show thinks that Warp Space could be the next big hit. We’ve got a good cast and crew, and the start of a solid fan base. But we don’t have the ratings—not yet. If the show runs over budget too much more, we may never get the chance to build that audience.”
Hearing the conversation, Bruce Reid walked over to the group. “The accountants see everything in terms of dollars and cents,” Reid said. “They don’t care if the show makes money next year; they want it to make money now. If they think we’re bleeding cash, they’ll pull the plug.”
“Fan support is critical,” Claudia said, “but it can’t stop the money men if they think we’re a lost cause.”
“Speaking of fans,” Bruce said, “I need to catch up on my e-mail. I’ll see you all after dinner.”
“See you, Bruce,” Claudia said. She and the Hardys and Iola headed for the cafeteria.
As they stood in line to get their food, Iola asked, “What was up with Geoff Gross there? He might have hurt Chet.”
“Geoff’s always been a macho hothead,” Claudia replied. “He’s convinced that he should be the star of the show. Plus, he’s pretty sweet on Jerri. He’s probably a bit jealous of the time Chet’s been spending with her.”
“Boy, the one time Chet does okay with a girl, it still messes up his life,” Joe said.
“Everyone seems on edge,” Frank said. “Except maybe you.”
Claudia shrugged. “I’ve been out of work before,” she said, “and I’ll be out of work again. Don’t get me wrong, I want this show to succeed, but my life doesn’t begin and end with it.” They sat down to eat.
“Do you think someone could be trying to hurt the show on purpose?” Joe asked.
“Like who?” Claudia replied.
“We’re not sure,” Frank said, “but a lot of things have been going wrong lately.”
“I think it’s just the pressure,” Claudia said. “That’s why I’m throwing a party tomorrow night, so everyone can let off some steam. You guys are welcome to come if you like.”
“We’d love to,” Iola said, sipping her drink through a straw so as not to smudge her makeup.
They finished their food and headed back toward the soundstage. The frantic shooting had eaten up much of the day. Already long, twilight shadows darkened the lot.
As they passed by Bruce Reid’s trailer, he came out, looking distraught. “Have you seen the Web site today?” he asked Claudia. “Do you know anything about this?”
“Know anything about what?” she asked.
“Come in,” Reid said. “I’ll show you.” He ushered Claudia, the Hardys, and Iola into his trailer. The group huddled around a laptop on the trailer’s counter.
“I was checking my mail on my fan site,” Reid explained, “and discovered a lot of sympathy notes. Some angry ones, too. At first I couldn’t figure out what it was all about. Finally, I tracked it back to the main Warp Space site.” His fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up a new Web site. “Take a look!” he said forlornly.
“I don’t see anything different,” Claudia said, checking the brightly colored front page of the Warp Space Web site.
“It’s in the news items, near the bottom of the page—the bottom!” Reid said.
The Hardys and Iola leaned closer as Claudia scrolled down.
Near the bottom of the page, was a picture of Reid. Next to the picture, was a simple block of black and white text.
“Captain Winter no more—Bruce Reid leaving series.”
9 Webs of Intrigue
“You’re leaving the series?” Iola asked.
“Not that I know of,” Reid said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
Frank reached over and clicked the link on the headline. “It says here that you’ve decided to move on because of creative differences,” he said.
Reid rolled his eyes and moaned. “That’s a death knell for an actor!” he said. “‘Creative differences’ always means an actor is difficult to work with. But I haven’t been difficult. I’ve given my all for this show.”
Claudia put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder. “Everyone knows that, Bruce,” she said.
“It also says that the fate of your character remains up in the air,” Joe added.
“It does,” Reid said, “but I read on a fan site that Captain Winter will be killed two episodes after the one we’re shooting now. Then Ensign Allura gets a field promotion and becomes captain for a while.”
“How can that be true?” Claudia asked. “I don’t think Sandy has two episodes done beyond this one. We both know she’s still sweating over rewrites on this episode.”
“But we also know she has a master plan for the series in her head,” Reid said. “If she is bumping my character off, she might have leaked the news to soften the blow—or put it up herself using a pseudonym.”
“Mr. Reid, I think you�
��re worrying for nothing,” Iola said. “How could they kill Captain Winter? He’s the emotional center of the show.”
“You know how this happened,” Reid said, ignoring Iola and pacing the trailer. “A lot of Web sites upload their news weeks in advance, and then the program displays it on the proper date. Sandy must have decided to write me out but hadn’t gotten around to telling me about it yet. The show’s ratings have been marginal. A stunt like this might perk them up.”
“Or it could be just a prank,” Joe said. He shot Frank a look that said, if it were a prank, he didn’t think it was very funny.
“O’Sullivan and Webb authorize everything that goes up on the site,” Reid said. “Sandy writes most of it herself. Why would the creator and head writer put it up on the site if it weren’t true?”
“Sandy doesn’t post everything herself,” Claudia said.
Reid sat down and put his head in his hands. “I need this job,” he said. “My last series tanked, and I really need Warp Space to fly. I’m not getting any younger, you know. And the rest of the actors around here are sharks—except for you, Claudia.”
“There’s an easy way to settle this,” Frank said. “Go to Sandy and ask her.”
“But what if it’s true?”
“Better to find out now than spend time anguishing over it,” Joe said.
Reid stood up and took a deep breath. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“That’s the old Captain Winter spirit!” Iola said, clapping him on the shoulder. He smiled at her.
“We’d better get back to the set,” Claudia said. “Webb’s probably having kittens by now. I’m in the next shot, too.”
“But I’m not,” Reid said. “I’ll find Sandy and talk to her.”
“We’ll be happy to go with you,” Joe said, “and lend some moral support.”
Reid nodded. “Thanks, kids. I appreciate it. The show’s pretty lucky that your friend won the contest.”
They all left Reid’s trailer and went back through the lengthening shadows to the soundstage. As it turned out, shooting hadn’t started again. Rich Millani was still repairing damage from the earlier fight. Webb had even called Stan Pekar in to help Millani after Pekar finished working on Chet’s helmet.
Trouble in Warp Space Page 6
