boucher book oct28.pdf - Index of

One-Way Trip 253
“No. Should it have? Oh— What Uranov told me about locations—”
“Exactly. There are in California landscaped locations under dome for every
possible type of setting, including lunar. So why should S.B. go to the expense of
toting a vast number of extras and all his equipment up here to shoot the picture
under less favorable conditions? Except for documentaries, nobody’s made location
trips in decades.”
“Then you think—”
“We think this is what it’s all been building up to. He’s ready for his big coup.
His first blow is going to be here on the Moon.”
“Then Hartle’s here?”
“Hartle, hell. S.B. Didn’t you realize that Hartle was just a stooge? This whole
lovestonite racket has been S.B. from the beginning.”
Garrett took more brandy. “All right,” he said. “S.B. is set to blow the top off of
things, and we’re going to stop him. Do I count as one of ‘we’ now?”
“You do,” said Maureen.
“Then what’s my first duty?”
“Look. This takes a little explaining. The boys that brought you in and the ones
you saw outside are us. But there’s a lot more extras here, and they’re not here to
function as extras. What they are is S.B.’s mercenaries.
“You noticed the fantastic make-up? They’re all supposed to be natives of Mars
when the first spaceship arrived, and nobody but a producer would think of shooting
a Martian picture on a lunar landscape but the public’ll never know the difference
and that’s hardly the point now, anyway. But in that getup there’s no recognizing
individuals, and we don’t wear our bracelets most of the time. So a handful of us are
going to slip into the dome where S.B. is staying—with Astra installed as empresselect.
We’ll seem to be just part of his army.”
“And then—”
“We’ll have a council of war tonight and get that straight. Hesketh and I are in
the party and two others. Want to make it five?”
“What do you think?”
“Good. That’s settled. Now come and meet us.”
As she rose, Garrett gently thrust her back into the chair. “Just a minute. The
Secretary of Allocation gave me this swizard to use in starting conversations about
lovestonite. I’m not apt to find that necessary any more. You like swizards. Want
it?”
“A Kubicek? You’re giving me a Kubicek swizard? And do I want it?”
He detached the swizard from his identification bracelet and fastened it onto
hers. As he leaned over her, her lips met him halfway. There was a little more than
gratitude in the kiss.
Maureen eventually leaned back and ran a straightening hand through her
rumpled black hair. “And, by the way,” she said, “what’s your name?”
Gan Garrett listened to his fellow extras:
“He’s what we’ve needed all along—one strong man to tell us what’s what.”
“Sure. That’s the hell of the State. There’s a lot of guys running it and who are
they and who cares?”
“And what are they running it for? Peace—nuts!”