by Mel Campbell
‘Ahem,’ Old Steve said.
‘Sorry,’ Rose said. ‘Moss the Boss – uh, Coz – this is –’
‘I know Old Steve,’ Moss said.
‘Rose,’ Old Steve said stiffly, ‘I’ll meet you inside. You come find me.’ He stalked off.
‘I’m never going to find him in there,’ she sighed. ‘Seems like you two aren’t the best of buddies.’
‘He’s a great craftsman, I’ll give him that,’ Moss said. ‘But when we both went for the job on Mansions, there could be only one.’
‘Old Steve went for a job on television?’ Rose turned to look for her boss, but he’d already vanished down the endless aisles. ‘He’s full of tall tales about his career, but never mentioned anything about TV.’
‘He would have got it, too,’ Moss said, ‘but during his audition he tried to get the camera guy to make his own tripod out of wood and wire. When the guy refused, Steve did it himself. He made a really good tripod, but the crew said they wouldn’t work with him after that.’
‘He probably dodged a bullet,’ Rose said.
‘Oh yeah,’ he said. ‘It really sounds crazy over there now.’
She tensed. ‘Has anyone been hurt?’
Moss shook his head. ‘Just a lot of crazy ideas. You remember Mick and Sahara? They’re building a two-storey extension now – god knows why – and they’re going to build the top storey first, then jack it up and build the ground floor underneath it.’
‘Oh … wow.’
‘I know. Leary must be loving it. I don’t know how the show will survive after this, but they’ll definitely be getting people in to watch.’
‘I was thinking,’ Rose said, and the words were coming out of her mouth before she realised what she was saying, ‘of maybe going back out to the set to take a look?’
Moss shook his head. ‘Bad idea. Very bad idea. They’re never going to let you back in there now they’ve written you out, and if you did manage to sneak in, they’d film you for sure and put it to air to make you look like a deranged stalker or obsessed fan.’ He looked at Rose oddly. ‘Why would you even want to go back, anyway?’
‘Well, if the contestants are doing such crazy stunts, obviously it’s dangerous and someone needs to tell the public. Obviously.’
‘But it’s not a secret – that’s the show’s gimmick now,’ said Moss. ‘Even if you went to another network and told them, you’d just be telling them what they already know. It’d be like running a news report saying that car racing is dangerous when a rival network is showing a big race – they wouldn’t bother doing it, because they’d just be basically helping promote a rival’s show.’
‘Shit.’ Rose looked at the ground.
‘Don’t worry, I predict nobody will get really hurt. It’s just a lot of stupid ideas.’
‘I wish I was as confident as you about that.’
‘It’s just television,’ he said. ‘It’s not worth getting worked up about.’
Rose didn’t answer that.
‘Look, I’ll make sure I put in a good word for you next season,’ he said. ‘Leary and the rest will have forgotten about all this by then, especially if this season works out. And I’m going to be doing some off-camera stuff on The Slab when I get back from my tour, so if I hear anything about a job there I’ll definitely let you know.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘You’re going on tour?’
He nodded, grinning broadly. ‘Yep. Hanging out with those podcast guys really put me back in touch with my first love.’
‘Music?’
‘Getting in contact with dead musicians using my psychic powers and playing music with them.’
Rose kept a straight face. ‘Ah.’
‘It’s not a big tour, but I’ve gotten in touch with some big names – Tupac, Eazy E, MCA from the Beastie Boys …’ He puffed his chest out proudly. ‘We’re called the Ouijie Boys. It was his idea.’
‘Sounds like quite a show.’
‘All new material,’ Moss said. ‘Tupac’s been beefing with Hologram Tupac, so his battle rhymes are fierce.’
‘Wow, you’ve gone from one extreme to the other.’
Moss grinned. ‘Not really – I’ve found a middle path, thanks to my psychic powers. I guess you could say I’m a happy medium.’
‘Well, um, let’s keep in touch,’ she said, taking out her phone. ‘I’d love to see a performance if I can ever get away from Old Steve.’
Moss laughed. ‘Good luck with that.’ He told her his phone number, then after she put it into her phone he started pushing his trolley towards the exit. ‘And don’t be worrying about the Mansions contestants. It’s all just for show.’
Rose watched him walk away, then texted Nicola.
We have to watch tonight’s episode as it airs, she sent. No excuses.
Nicola sent back a thumbs-up.
Rose was used to watching Mansions after it aired, when all she had to do to start the episode was press a button. Sitting in the lounge room in front of the television waiting for it to start live was so stressful she was bouncing up and down on the couch, constantly clenching her fingers.
‘Not long now,’ Nicola said, the laptop open and sitting on the couch’s armrest. She’d managed to track down a website that live-streamed the broadcast.
‘I just need to see they’re okay,’ Rose said. ‘I’ll be able to tell if it’s fake, I know it.’
‘It’s all fake,’ Alan said from the other end of the couch where he was reading a bulky novel. ‘That’s what television is.’
‘What Dave and I had was real,’ Rose said quietly. ‘That’s all I care about.’
‘The love robot sends her regards,’ Nicola said. ‘She’s been really worried.’
‘Thank her for me,’ Rose said distractedly. On the screen a commercial for gambling cut to a commercial for pre-planned funerals.
‘Thank her yourself,’ Nicola said. ‘She wanted to meet you.’
‘Hi Rose,’ a warm and caring female voice said. ‘Nicola’s told me a lot about you.’
‘Oh, uh, hi?’
‘I hope this isn’t uncomfortable for you, I know some people find me unsettling.’ The voice paused. ‘I only wish to understand and interact.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Rose said. ‘Nicola speaks very highly of you. I’m glad she has a friend over there.’
‘Well, I’m not really here,’ the love robot said. ‘Being online, my presence is cloud-based. I can be anywhere. In fact, thanks to my ability to run multiple instances of myself, I am usually in numerous places at once. For example.’ She paused. ‘I am currently interacting with people in seven different IP locations, including …’ her voice suddenly took on a concerned tone. ‘… oh no …’
‘Okay, so babe,’ Renton said into his phone, walking into the room oblivious to everyone around him, ‘tell me again what you’re going to do to me with that rubber –’ He looked up. ‘Oh, hey.’
‘Renton,’ the love robot said. Only this time, the voice came from the laptop and his phone at the same time.
‘Oh no,’ Nicola said. ‘This can’t be happening.’
‘I am just meeting your sister,’ the love robot said from two places at once. ‘She seems very nice.’
‘What?’ Renton said, a stunned look on his face. He looked back and forth between the phone in his hand and the laptop on the couch. ‘What?’
‘I was wondering where she was getting those filthy ideas from,’ Nicola said. ‘I just thought it was the creeps at work.’
‘I hope I can meet the rest of your family soon,’ the love robot said. ‘I would very much like to converse with them, as I converse with you.’
‘Hi,’ Alan said, not looking up from his book.
‘You are not talking to them about what we talk about,’ Renton said, his face rapidly turning red.
‘It must be some kind of feedback loop,’ Nicola said, clearly thinking out loud. ‘Even if he started out talking normally, Renton’s sleazy mind is full of pornographic undercurrents the love robot would have picked up on. She would have reflected them back to him, he would have thought she was coming on to him and upped his sleaze, and back and forth until …’ She shuddered. ‘It’s a good thing her hardware is based in Japan, that’s all I can say.’
‘Oh god,’ Renton sobbed. He turned and ran out of the room.
‘Guess that answers the question of whether she really is alive or not,’ Nicola said. ‘A real human woman would have told him to go to hell ages ago. The love robot might have passed the Turing test, but she couldn’t pass the Renton test.’
‘I think Renton and I need some alone time,’ the love robot said from the laptop. There was a beeping sound as she logged off. Instantly, muffled yelling started coming from Renton’s room.
‘They’ll be fine,’ Nicola said. ‘I’ve read her chat logs. He is definitely not going to find a real girl who will say that stuff to him.’
‘That’s great,’ Rose said, ‘because Mansions started five minutes ago and I’m trying to watch it.’
The Friday night episodes of Mansions in the Sky were usually fairly low-key, as the show kept all the big developments and high drama for the big rating nights of Sunday and Monday. Often the contestants would be shown doing some smaller challenge off-site, or the focus would be more on what they were like as people rather than pitting them against one another. But that was before the changes, and Rose was dreading to think what the new show would be like. The opening segment had just been an update on how the renovations were progressing, followed by Len chatting to George and Gino about how they were coping, seeing as they’d missed the footy finals. When were the footy finals? Rose thought. Huh, I didn’t even realise they’d happened.
As the episode went on, though, Rose started to notice various changes. The footage they were using had definitely been all shot after the tradies’ mass sacking: occasionally Len or a contestant would talk about how they were ‘doin’ it tough’ without professional help, but that they were getting by. ‘It’s a really great way for us to come together as a family,’ Jenny Morgan said, smiling over her shoulder at her daughter lugging a sack of cement. Chloe waved back; maybe it was even true.
It was clear the show had taken advantage of the new situation to adjust the way it showed the contestants, too. Now the Muellers, who were clearly not used to this level of manual labour, were shown to be bickering, while Mick and Sahara’s controlling nature was now used to make them look like competent workers determined to do a good job.
Michelle and Dave seemed happier than ever. Michelle was bubbly and throwing herself into every chore; Dave was full of big ideas, and was constantly asking Michelle if she needed any help.
‘We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to,’ Nicola said quietly.
‘No, I want to,’ Rose said, leaning forward towards the television. ‘There’s more going on.’
‘What? They seem okay.’
‘It’s reality television,’ Rose said. ‘Nothing is what it seems.’
‘Like what?’
‘Look at his hands,’ Rose said. ‘Look how they’re clenched.’
It was true. Dave was almost always smiling around Michelle, but whenever you saw his hands – and they weren’t holding or lifting something – the knuckles were showing white.
‘Those are not the hands of a man having a good time,’ Rose said. ‘And I should know.’
‘So you think he’s struggling?’
‘He’s not happy, that’s for sure.’ The show cut to a commercial. ‘I mean, unless they show him crying or something we’re not going to get real proof, but I know him well enough to know that he’s not happy about something.’
‘Do you think he misses you?’
‘I don’t know. But maybe?’ She sighed. ‘I hope so.’
‘Maybe he’ll arrange all those couch cushions to say COME BACK ROSE?’
Despite herself, Rose laughed.
‘I was more worried he’d be putting himself in danger,’ she said. ‘But it looks like they’re not letting it get out of hand. So long as he’s not at risk I can cope. I think.’
‘This Sunday, on Mansions in the Sky, for the first time ever on national television,’ Len’s voiceover said while a camera swooped dramatically over the court, ‘your chance to witness a unique, one-time, never-before-seen event … the Mansions Signature Scavenge, broadcast LIVE!’
‘Oh shit,’ Rose said.
‘Can Sahara collect the shattered glass she needs for her statement feature wall at the Crashington Speedway?’ A racing car overturned on screen.
‘Will George find the bush wildflowers he needs to complete his perfect backyard makeover at the other side of Knife Edge Gorge?’ A man in a crash helmet slowly clawed his way along a rope strung over what looked like a very deep ravine.
‘And will Dave surface with the shipwreck timber he needs to finish off his signature kitchen bench?’ Someone in scuba gear swam down to a shipwreck while a shark circled nearby.
‘That’s not Dave,’ Nicola said firmly. ‘They’re not going to let him swim anywhere near a real shark.’
‘Stock footage,’ Rose said in a numb voice. ‘Shark or not, they can’t have filmed it yet.’
‘Why?’ Alan said, looking up from his book.
‘Well, for one, because they said it was a live scavenger hunt.’
‘Considering all the things they won’t be able to fix in editing, they must be really desperate for ratings if they’re filming a live episode,’ Nicola said.
‘Or the things that could go wrong,’ Rose said, her voice catching, ‘because Dave can’t swim. He hates the water. If he tries to dive down to a shipwreck, he’ll drown for sure.’
Rose spent Saturday trying to find out the location of the wreck. Moss the Boss didn’t know, and now that he was just a part-time contractor on Mansions they weren’t going to tell him. After the security leak that brought the fans to the court, filming information and locations were a closely guarded secret. She checked the fan forums but they had nothing concrete, just gossip and speculation. Even Crashington Speedway and Knife’s Edge Gorge were made-up names; wherever they were filming, they didn’t want outsiders butting in.
The live episode was being shot on the tradies’ day off so none them would be involved. They couldn’t tell her any more than Moss the Boss could – not that any of them would talk to her now. Her only contact at the Mansions court was Daryl the security guard, and he wasn’t exactly a close friend. Still, as she paced back and forth across her bedroom floor, it was better than her other option, which was to do nothing, watch the show, and send flowers to Dave’s funeral. So she walked out to the lounge room, rang the site office, and handed the phone to Sarah.
‘Ask for Daryl,’ Rose whispered. ‘Say you’re his mum.’
Sarah took the phone. ‘Hello, yes, it’s Daryl’s mum here, I’d like to speak to … that’s right, Daryl.’
She handed the phone to Rose. ‘They’re getting him now. Good luck!’
‘Hi Mum,’ Daryl said. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Hi Daryl, it’s Rose. Look, I need your help.’
‘Okay,’ he said warily. ‘I’m not going to jail for you.’
‘You won’t have to,’ Rose said, crossing her fingers. ‘Do you know where they’re filming the challenges tomorrow? Especially the shipwreck one?’
‘No, sorry. That’s all top secret.’
‘Shit,’ Rose pulled a face. ‘Okay, if I drove out there tomorrow, would you let me park on the lot so I could follow them when they leave?’
‘Uh, no. Because they already left.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah, I guess they
were worried that people would, um, come out here and follow them when they left, so they left last night. There’s nobody here but security.’
‘Damn.’
‘I can pass on a message when everyone gets back Monday morning?’
‘Thanks, Daryl, but I think that’ll be too late.’
That night Rose and Nicola tried to come up with a plan.
‘They can’t have gone that far,’ Nicola said. She had Harippo-chan sitting on her shoulder: his owner was coming back next week and Nicola wanted to impress him with how well-behaved his owl was … among other things. Rose was somewhat skeptical about the sex appeal of owls, but Nicola was adamant: if he was a big enough Harry Potter fan to actually get an owl, then a woman with an owl on her shoulder (and not attacking her head) would be his dream date.
‘They could be anywhere,’ Rose said. ‘They left last night so they’ve got almost two days to travel – if they got on a helicopter they could be down the Shipwreck Coast or beyond.’
‘But they don’t have two days to get back, do they?’
Rose nodded. ‘Good point – Daryl said they’d be back Monday morning.’
‘And the live special starts at 7 p.m. Even now that daylight saving’s kicked in, it’s only going to be light until eight-thirty or so.’
‘That’s plenty of time for him to drown.’
‘But not plenty of time for them to get back. And they’re probably not going to fly a helicopter or private plane in the dark if they can help it. So it’s probably driving distance, and if it takes them a couple of hours to pack everything up, it’s probably only an hour or two away at most if they expect to get the cast back in their beds by midnight.’
‘An hour’s drive still covers a lot of coastline.’
‘Yeah,’ Nicola said. ‘I know.’
‘Old Steve lives in a shack by the beach,’ Rose said. ‘Maybe he might have some ideas?’
‘Call him,’ Nicola said, waving goodbye. ‘But keep me posted. I need to know how this all turns out!’