"You behaved rather well,” said K.V., returning his attention to the engineer, “It was our young companion here that I was worried about."
"I think,” Robinson repeated, “that the emergency scanning camera might tell another story.” He nodded toward the camera over the door. A tiny green LED showed it was active.
"Camera?"
Ignoring K.V., Robinson turned to Hendrix. “Thanks,” he said. “And I mean big-time thanks."
"Any time.” Hendrix turned to leave. “But, duty calls,"—he shot a quick glance at K.V.—"thankfully.” He left the cabin.
"What's this about a camera?” said K.V. He stood, as if rooted, looking up at the green LED.
Robinson, standing beside a console, absently played with a rover-controller. “The entire station watched it, I imagine,” he said.
K.V. stood mute, his eyes wild.
"And,” Robinson went on, “the signal was downlinked to Langley for image processing."
Walter, listening, lounged against the bulkhead and gazed idly at a monitor where a magnetic-wheeled rover in the studio moved in synchrony to the engineer's twiddling.
Robinson shrugged. “But considering how hard it is to keep anything secure these days,” he said, lightly, his eyes on K.V., “I imagine a number of news stations around the world have picked it up and are broadcasting it live. A real life-and-death drama."
K.V., his eyes still on the LED, took a step back and sideways, as if trying to hide from the camera.
Walter gave a hint of a nod, bit his lower lip, then went over and switched off the power to the rover console.
Robinson took his hand from the controller and pointed at the emergency camera. “All the world's a stage,” he said. “Hamlet, I think."
Walter chuckled. “'As You Like It', actually. But very apt."
The comlink came to life. “Call from the surface for K.V. Bushnell. From a Mr. Zandor."
K.V. yanked his gaze from the LED and over to the comlink.
"The producer,” Walter whispered to Robinson. “The big boss."
"Says it's private,” the comlink voice continued. “Take the call in the observation lounge. Afterward, he wants to talk to Mr. Anders."—Walter stiffened—"Something about a promotion."
K.V. inhaled, sharply.
Robinson leaned in toward Walter. “Congratulations,” he said, softly.
K.V., mopping the sweat from his forehead, skulked off without a word.
Walter smiled. He felt reborn—returned to the land of the living with a second chance. He'd learned his lesson. This time he'd live life, not act it. 'All the world's a stage'? He chuckled. Not any more. God help me, not any more.
END
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