by M. D. Cooper
“Maybe that’s why.” She looks thoughtful.
Nana’s standing by the door like a soldier expecting an invasion force.
It’s kind of comforting, actually.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Greta announces. “I have a few scenes to do, but you two will stay with me. It may get a little boring for you, but I already got permission for you to visit the set. Pinky doesn’t have any scenes until tomorrow, but I’m going to see if she’ll come, anyway. I’d just feel better if she were keeping an eye out for you. I’ll have her grab your luck stone, too.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I don’t want to mess up anything for you.”
“Mess up the movie?” She shakes her head. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“Someone’s coming!” Nana looks ready to annihilate whoever it is.
“Hang on!” Greta hops across the room and wedges herself between Nana and the side of the door that opens. She peeks out.
“Darling! What’s happening here? I heard there was a commotion.”
Greta straightens and opens the door the rest of the way. I see a stylish human in a button-up shirt and a pair of slacks.
“It’s all under control now, Alex. The show will go on!”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Alex edged into the room. “Who are these guests of yours that have gotten my people all worked up?”
He’s good-looking, rich, and probably famous.
“Rose, Charlie, this is my director, Alex. Alex, these are the friends I was telling you about.”
He dismisses me after the briefest look, but Nana’s got his attention. “A cyborg?”
“Yes, she’ll be no trouble, I promise.” Greta smiles reassuringly.
“Trouble?” Alex looks offended. “Are you kidding? This is fantastic! We could put her in the temple scene. The audience will love it.”
“Me, in a movie?” Nana looks enchanted with the idea.
“You’re made for it!” Alex insists. “This is going to be my biggest film yet.”
He looks thrilled, Greta appears excited, and Nana is clearly beside herself.
The only one not enthusiastic about the day’s events is me.
***
I don’t want to hurt Greta’s feelings, but watching a movie being filmed is as much fun as watching metal rust. It takes about as long, too.
Nana is intrigued with the process, though, and Pinky, who has joined us, seems relatively entertained.
The cast and crew recovered almost immediately from the scene that Nana and I made, and now they’re filming a deeply serious scene with Greta. Her character is gravely ill, and looking for perspective in her life.
“I wish life came with a guarantee,” Greta says for the five billionth time, but still managing to sound distraught. “If I just knew whether I had a month, or three, or a year, I’d know what to do next.”
“Cut!” Alex sweeps in. “Perfect. Let’s swap out the set for the next scene. Everyone take a fifteen-minute break.”
A small army of people either bolt from the set or dash onto it, rumpling up the bed and whisking away the teacups used in the current scene.
“Do you guys want to see the green room?” Greta asks. “They usually have some good food set out.”
Pinky’s already on her feet. “Free food? Oh yeah.”
In the green room, which is actually a comfortingly dull beige color, I snack on some fresh vegetables and a bit of creamy dip. Greta and Nana eat nothing, while Pinky seems to have made it her mission to make sure that no poor production assistant has to put away any leftovers.
In spite of the relapse of bad luck earlier, I’m feeling only mildly on edge. As I fill a cup with water and take a sip, I hear a faint chittering noise, like the one I heard the day before in an entirely different part of the station.
I tilt my head to the side, listening, but the sound has gone.
“What’s wrong?” Nana asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “I heard kind of a squeak or something.”
“I heard it too.” She tapped her cybernetically enhanced ear. “I’ve heard it on and off the whole time I’ve been here. Think something’s wrong?”
“Some places are just creaky,” I say. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“If you say so.” Nana sounds doubtful. “I’ve never been off Earth, so I guess this is what a space station could sound like.”
It occurs to me that this is a big moment for our family. Two Kennys have left Earth to travel the stars, and outside of possibly destroying Gus’ sense of self and his will to live, nothing major has happened.
Greta comes over and puts her hand on my arm. “We should get back.”
“Sure. You were great in that last scene, by the way.”
She beams at me as we head back to the set. “Thanks! The next scene is more upbeat, when my character has recovered. I think it’ll be easier. The serious stuff is hard.”
“I’m sure you’ll be terrific. You’re—” A sudden crushing pain just above my elbow makes me freeze.
It’s Pinky’s hand. She’s staring at the set.
I follow her gaze toward a tall cage. As we watch a production assistant fussing with it, I hear a chittering sound.
“Blagrooks.” Pinky announces it like she’s pronouncing the end of the world. “They’ve brought in real blagrooks.”
I’ve never seen one of the creatures in person. As we get closer, I see they’re just as I’ve seen in pictures. They have long snouts and tall, pointed ears. Their eyes are tiny, beady, and show no hint of intelligence whatsoever. I feel I’m staring into the face of a remorseless, hateful stupidity unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed.
I can see why Pinky doesn’t like them.
Fortunately, she’s released my arm. I rub it surreptitiously, while her eyes are on the blagrooks. “That’s what I heard earlier,” I say. “That sound they make. I heard it yesterday, too.”
“Since when are there live blagrooks in this movie?” Pinky demands, stomping off toward Alex.
Greta and I hurry after her. Nana remains to watch the creatures.
“What idiot brings blagrooks aboard a space station?” Pinky demands.
Alex blinks, but recovers quickly. “Don’t worry. They have two trained handlers with them at all times. They won’t harm anything. The producer decided to use live blagrooks instead of props, for realism.”
“And the station approved?” Pinky glares.
“Not at first,” Alex admitted. “They had a lot of transportation and handling requirements, and we had to pay for a special insurance rider. But we got it worked out.”
“Count me out of your movie, then,” Pinky says. “I don’t work with blagrooks, or people foolish enough to play games with them.”
Greta looks stricken. “Oh, Pinky, are you sure?”
“As sure as I’m pink. You stay if you want, but I’m out of here.” Pinky turns on her heel and stalks out.
Greta throws a pleading look to Alex. “Give me a minute to talk to her, okay?”
Alex frowns. “I don’t know. If she has an attitude like that, she doesn’t belong on my set. But I don’t have anyone else lined up for her role.” He sighs. “Okay, give it a try, but hurry back. We’re on the clock.”
Greta runs after Pinky, and I follow at a slower pace. I don’t know what Greta’s planning to say, or why Pinky’s so mad, but there’s no point in me hanging around the set. Nana remains behind, watching the blagrooks.
I don’t know if she’s fascinated or horrified. Either way, at least she has an eye on them.
By the time I catch up to my friends in the hall, they’re already talking.
“Are you sure you want to go, Pinky? It’s okay if you do, but I don’t want you to regret your decision. You were looking forward to being in a movie.”
“Nah. I liked the green room food, and seeing myself on the screen would have been fun, but I can’t support something that involves the use of real blagrooks. I h
ave principles.”
Greta nods. “Okay, as long as you’re sure. Is it okay with you if I go ahead and do the movie? It’s just today and tomorrow, and I’ve done a lot of preparing…” she trails off, looking sheepish.
“You gotta make your own choice. I get it.” Pinky holds up a fist and Greta bumps it with her own. “Keep an eye out, Charlie. If anything looks strange, get our girl out of here.”
“I’ll do my best.” I refrain from adding that this doesn’t ensure much, because we all already know this. More importantly, Greta has her luck, which is far more valuable than my feeble attempts to guard her.
“Good man.” Pinky claps me gently on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you two later, then.”
“That’s too bad,” Greta sighs as we slowly make our way back to the set. “I wish things had worked out differently.”
When we arrive, Nana crooks her finger at me. I join her while Greta explains the situation to Alex.
“I’ve been listening to these things and measuring their acoustic output,” Nana says without preamble. “There is absolutely no way we could have heard them from the green room.”
I have a familiar sinking feeling. “Are you sure?”
“Completely. Some of those things have escaped and are loose on the station.”
***
I’m nervous as I watch Greta act out the scene. She was right. This scenario is much more upbeat, and the work is going faster. I’ve sent Nana to investigate with her clever cyborg hearing to try to figure out what we can do about the blagrook escapees. I figure if anyone’s going to get to the bottom of that situation, it’s got to be her.
Once we have some facts to relay, we’ll go right to the station administration office when Greta’s scene is done. Then they can deal with the issue.
I hope the film doesn’t get shut down. I don’t want her to be disappointed.
When the filming for the day wraps up, everyone claps and the set becomes a hive of activity. The blagrook handlers are wheeling the giant cage away while other production assistants have begun tearing down the set to prepare for the next day’s work.
“You were great,” I tell Greta as we head back to her dressing room. “I really believed you were happy that your scientist boyfriend had discovered a cure for your disease.”
“Yeah?” She’s shiny with glee.
“Completely.”
“Thanks, Charlie. I just have a little more to do in a scene tomorrow, then I’m done. Other than the part about Pinky, this has been fun.”
“Any idea what they’re going to do to fill her role?” I ask.
“Alex is planning to do it. He used to act before he started directing, so it’ll be fine.”
I nod. “Want to have dinner at Pinky’s? They’re doing a Tapp Zaff celebration today.”
“I love Tapp Zaff! It’s more fun in a sunny place, of course, but people usually start playing silly games and dancing.”
“Great. Do you want me to wait outside your dressing room while you—”
A crashing riot of noise and screaming interrupts me.
Oh.
Crap.
Greta’s eyes meet mine, sober with understanding. “Blagrooks?”
“It’s the only reasonable explanation.”
“What do you think happened?”
“Nothing good, but we’re going in there, aren’t we?” I know Greta. There’s no way she’s leaving when somebody might need help.
“Yeah.” She grabs my hand for reassurance.
Not for hers. For my reassurance.
Here we go.
Chapter 3
The movie set looks more like a post-apocalyptic nightmare than an uplifting drama. The blagrook cage is on its side, dented and obviously now devoid of any blagrooks.
A production assistant is wrapping Alex’s arm while another dabs at a bloody slash on his forehead.
“What happened?” Greta asks.
“A boom mic fell, tipped over the cage, and caused a piece of lighting to fall.” Alex looks dazed.
“It fell on you?” I ask.
“No. I tried to grab a blagrook to keep it from escaping. I shouldn’t have done that.”
I pull aside the assistant who’d wrapped his arm. “Blagrook scratches can be toxic. You need to get Alex to the medbay.”
“He said he didn’t want to leave the crew.” The man’s forehead creases with indecision.
“Doesn’t matter what he wants. He could get really sick if he doesn’t go right away.” I know this because sometimes when I can’t sleep, I stay up searching for disaster scenarios and what to do.
This is the first time that’s actually come in handy.
A scrabbling sound behind us makes me whip around, but not fast enough. A blagrook has crawled out from behind something and launched itself at us.
No way I’m going to let its talons touch Greta. I step in front of her to put myself between her and the monster.
A dark blur rushes in front of me, and suddenly the blagrook is flying away from us. It hits a wall and falls to the ground, still.
“Pinky!”
I wish I could say it was Greta who yelled that while I stoically stood alongside, having just sacrificed myself for the woman I love. But no. That high-pitched squeal was me.
Sigh.
I almost did something cool.
On the bright side, Pinky stands before us, holding some sort of bat with nails or something sticking through it. Maybe it’s a primitive cudgel. Or a mace. Which one has the spiky bits on it? Weapons aren’t my forte.
Fortunately, they’re Pinky’s specialty and she’s clearly ready for a fight.
“I had a bad feeling, so I went for my blagrook bat and came back. Good thing too. That thing was about to eat Charlie’s face.”
I roll my eyes at the hyperbole, determined to believe that she is indeed speaking hyperbole.
“Where’s Nana Rose?” Pinky asks. “I’m going to need her help cleaning up this mess.”
“She’s scouting the station. She can hear the things.”
“Good.” Pinky nods. “We have to be sure to get them all. If you leave even one, you’ll be re-infested in no time.”
“There were six in the cage,” Greta says. “Minus that one.”
We look to the one Pinky smashed.
“There are more than that,” I say. “Nana and I both heard them before the ones in the cage broke out.”
“Oh, no.” Greta looks to Pinky. “How do we get rid of them?”
Pinky swings her bat up to rest on her shoulder. “We go hunting.”
***
In this game of whack-a-blagrook, I’m pretty much superfluous. Greta and I creep along behind Nana, who stalks the station with her head tilted, listening. Every now and then she yells, “Get it, Pinky!”
That’s when Pinky, with a light of destruction and pure joy in her eyes, steps in and smashes the hell out of whatever she’s pointing at. A wall. A chair. An electrical panel. That last one got exciting there for a minute, when there were sparks and popping sounds and the smell of singed blagrook hair.
It’s not a good smell.
We comb the entire station, even areas that are usually off-limits. Then we double back and whack a few more blagrooks. The amount of time between Pinky’s violent outbursts gradually lengthens, until it’s been two full hours since we last found one.
“We might have gotten them all.” Nana has her ear pressed to the door of an elevator shaft. “I’m not hearing any more.”
“I guess that’s good.” Pinky examines the end of her bat.
“Definitely good,” I say. “Any more holes in this place and they might decide to scuttle it and build a new one.”
I’m joking, of course. So far, Pinky has masterfully avoided creating a hull breach or damaging any critical systems.
“I think I’ll go check on Alex,” Greta says. “Make sure he’s okay, and see if there’s anything I need to do before I go back to the Second Chance.”
“I’ll go with you.” I’m no help to Pinky and Nana in this matter, and I’d seen enough dead blagrook to last me a lifetime.
As we make our way back to the movie set, I ask, “Think they’ll still film tomorrow?”
“If they can, they will. It’s too expensive to delay if they can avoid it. But if Alex can’t work, there’s no other choice.”
I keep my opinion of Alex to myself, which means I have a whole lot of silent judging going on. It seems fair that he was the one to get hurt, since he was the idiot who brought the blagrooks on board.
Carefully, I say, “I hope this doesn’t affect your appearance in the movie.”
She shrugs as we approach the set. “If there’s a delay, it’s just too bad. The Second Chance takes off for Alpha Centauri in two days.”
“They’d probably wait if you asked,” I say. Truth be told, if Greta truly wanted to remain on the station, I’m certain that something would happen to make it possible.
“I’d never ask for the ship to delay because of me. That’s my job. This movie thing is just for fun. It’s not a big deal if it doesn’t work out.”
She waves to a production assistant as we come down the hallway of dressing rooms. “Hey, Albie. Do you know where Alex is?”
“Yeah, he’s in the cutting room, looking at the dailies. Go on in, maybe you can see a rough cut of one of your scenes.”
“He must not have been as hurt as he looked,” I say.
Albie shakes his head. “He had some pretty nasty cuts. But Alex is obsessed with his work. That’s why he’s so successful.”
Greta leads me away from the dressing rooms and down an intersecting corridor.
“I wonder what these rooms are usually used for,” I say.
“Public relations stuff. Places to put reporters, film crews, visiting dignitaries, that sort of thing.” She opens the door to a darkened room.
On a large screen, I see my recent past replaying itself. I watch the boom mic fall into the blagrook cage, just as Alex had described it to me. The cage topples, gets damaged, and the creatures start squeezing out through the opened space.