by Jay Martel
Perry frowned. ‘Entertainment reporters?’
‘You have to understand that without any war or crime, entertainment is the most prestigious beat in our news media. We must prepare you, and not just for the predictable questions—’ Marty rambled on, but Perry wasn’t listening. On the other side of the stage, Amanda continued her conversation with Jared. He watched as they laughed and hugged. It was what Perry now recognised as an Edenite hug – arms clasped, bodies barely touching, and heads turned away from each other – but it was a hug nonetheless.
After Jared had left, Marty led Perry and Amanda out into another long blue hallway. They walked together for several moments before Perry broke the silence.
‘Did you have a nice talk with Jared?’ he asked, fighting to conceal his annoyance.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He was very supportive.’
Perry stewed on this as they continued walking.
‘He wanted to stay but he needed to get back to the home planet. He’s got a few planetainments kicking off new seasons.’
Perry smiled wanly. ‘Oh wow, that’s too bad. It would’ve been really fun to get to know him.’
Amanda glanced over. ‘There’s no need for sarcasm.’
‘Oh yeah, I forgot. We’re on the moon.’
‘I meant that Jared is in no way a threat to you.’
‘Why would I be threatened by him? Just because he’s freakishly tall, looks like a rock star and is weirded out by my lousy genes.’
‘His response was completely understandable. You would understand if you knew more about our culture.’
‘Well, I definitely don’t want to. That entire show made me sick to my stomach.’
Amanda’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘It was tribute to us. What didn’t you like?’
‘I don’t know. How about... everything? I’ve never seen so many condescending blowhards. If that was a tribute, I’d prefer torture.’
Amanda stopped. ‘I know that cynicism is basically a religion among Earthles, and given your planet I understand why. But can’t you give it a rest? Must you always see the very worst in people?’
‘They compared me to a winged chimp!’
‘The winged chimps on Altair 7 are fabulous creatures. In fact, they always beat us in the ratings. You should be honoured.’
‘Elvis said I had less character than a sandwich.’
‘When he first met you, that’s what he thought. You proved him wrong. You heard him. You changed the way people think about POFs.’
‘That song made me sound like a complete loser.’
Amanda sighed. ‘Perry, all those people love you. That’s why they were saying all these things. That’s why we’re still alive.’
‘Then I’m not sure we got the best end of that deal.’
Amanda rolled her eyes, further irritating Perry. ‘Really? You’d rather be dead?’
‘I’d rather be as far away from their love as possible,’ Perry responded.
Amanda stared at Perry as if she didn’t know him. Though she knew it was irrational, Amanda couldn’t help interpreting Perry’s disdain for the tribute and Edenites in general as a judgement of her, and who was he, Perry Bunt, to judge anyone? Hadn’t she given up her career to save his life? He was a product of fornication, for Adam’s sake. She was a Grade 4 genotype, representing the highest level of genetic craftsmanship in the known universe. She could choose to be with anyone, yet she had given up everything, including her dignity, to help save Perry and his planet!
‘The Earth is safe. We’re together. Why are you acting like this? Is it impossible for you to show gratitude?’
‘It’s hard to be grateful when they were the ones who were going to kill me in the first place. And if the Earth really is safe, why am I here? Can you tell me that? Why am I still part of their lousy dog-and-pony show? Why don’t they let me go home?’ The ‘me’ in the last sentence reverberated uncomfortably between them. ‘And if you think Captain Handsome’s so damned supportive, why didn’t you go home with him?’
‘Sorry, sweeties,’ Marty said, interrupting. He had doubled back down the hallway to retrieve them. ‘We need to keep a move-on, the schedule is exceedingly tight.’
Perry and Amanda continued walking, both dissatisfied by their exchange and the way it had ended. Marty led them to a set of tall steel doors. ‘Good luck,’ he said, then turned and trotted away.
Perry and Amanda entered a large conference room. At one end was a small stage. On it, four chairs were arranged around a short metal column, and a huge screen displaying the Earth served as a backdrop. Next to the stage, Elvis stood chatting with a striking elderly man. The man wore a long white beard that matched his white hair and seemed somehow familiar to Perry, though he wasn’t sure why. Then, with a jolt, he realised where he’d seen him: on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
Elvis looked up and noticed them. ‘Hello, Perry and Amanda. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.’ He swept his arm towards the elderly man. ‘This... is GOD.’
CHANNEL 33
GOD
Perry and Amanda both stared awestruck at the elderly man. ‘GOD is the Founder of Earth and the Executive in Charge of All Production,’ Elvis drawled. ‘We’re very lucky to have him here with us today. How long has it been?’
The elderly man shook his head of white hair. ‘Too long, I’m afraid. The whole galaxy needs my attention now and, to be honest, coming back here just made me depressed, so I stopped.’
While Perry stood frozen, gaping at the Founder of Earth, Amanda stepped forward and extended her hand. ‘Nice to meet you, sir,’ she said.
‘The pleasure is all mine.’ The elderly man beamed at her while enveloping Amanda’s hand in his two large hands. ‘Amanda Mundo. Perry’s been getting most of the attention, but I want you to know that you are an absolutely vital part of all this. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.’ Amanda wasn’t sure if it was the beatific expression or the glowing words, but it was all suddenly too much to take. She withdrew her hand. The elderly man continued to transfix her in a benevolent gaze. ‘Congratulations on your pregnancy. Such a transformative event.’
Amanda glanced to the side, actually embarrassed. ‘Thank you. It was quite... surprising.’
‘To you and everyone else,’ Elvis chimed in. ‘When you told Perry by that dead cornfield, the ratings hit a whole ’nother level. We’re talking bigger than robot wrestling, bigger than mutant killing, even bigger than volcano wars!’
‘Please Elvis,’ the elderly man said softly. ‘We know the ratings are doing well. That’s why I’m here.’ He gazed upon Perry’s stunned expression and smiled serenely. ‘You can relax, Perry. GOD is just a sobriquet. My name is actually Gerald O. Davidoff. You can call me Gerry if it makes you feel more comfortable.’
In order to speak, Perry had to force the words out of his mouth. ‘You’re on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.’
‘Yes,’ Gerald O. Davidoff said, his eyes sparkling with mirth. ‘Started out as a joke. Back then, they made my hair and beard white to add to my authority. Now they wouldn’t have to, would they?’
‘So the belief in God—’ Perry’s voice trailed off.
‘He exists!’ Gerald O. Davidoff laughed. He shook Perry’s hand with an amazingly firm grip for someone close to 200 years old. Perry had never felt such soft, warm hands. ‘I am so glad to meet you, son. Earth has always been my baby, but I have to admit I’d given up on her. I was certain that her time had past, that nothing good would ever come out of her again. You proved me wrong. And for that, you have my gratitude.’ He patted Perry on the shoulder and chuckled. ‘Or should I say, eternal gratitude.’ Perry found himself smiling back at him. ‘Now, we have a lot of ground to cover and not much time.’
Gerald O. Davidoff explained that Edenites all over the galaxy were fascinated with Perry and his sudden rise to fame on a channel that hadn’t launched a star in years. The rapid ascent had given way to suspicions that Perry was in fact an E
denite. In the past, various productions had tried to pass off Edenite producers as hapless products of fornication living on planetainments. ‘I guess you could say they’ve been burned a few times before.’ He glanced over at Elvis, who looked defensive.
‘Hey, we never said I was an Earthle,’ Elvis said. ‘I mean, we didn’t go out of our way to say I wasn’t one, but we never lied about it.’
‘I know,’ Gerald O. Davidoff said. ‘I’m only saying, they feel like they’ve been burned. Of course, they know Amanda here is an Edenite. And while the chemistry between the two of you is excellent for the arc of the series, even more questions about Perry’s authenticity have been brought about by the relationship.’
‘You have to admit, it’s an odd one,’ Elvis said.
Perry didn’t feel he had to admit that, while Amanda readily nodded her head.
‘Anyway, it gives us even more motivation to resolve this issue once and for all,’ Gerald O. Davidoff continued. ‘We have to make it clear to the galaxy’s media that Perry is nothing more than a product of fornication. What do you say?’ The white-haired executive fixed his penetrating brown eyes on Perry. ‘You look doubtful. Are ready for this?’
Perry wasn’t. He hated that he and Amanda had quarrelled in the hallway. He glanced over at her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Without her as an ally, he felt lonelier than ever. He was exhausted and aching from his escapades saving the world. On top of the abuse he’d endured, the bizarre adulation of the Edenites based almost exclusively on his ability to suffer was infuriating. He couldn’t give a crap if the Edenite media thought he was an Earthle, a producer, or a three-toed sloth. He just wanted some kind of assurance that he and the Earth were safe so that he could collapse in a heap somewhere and fall into a deep, deep sleep.
‘Do we really need to do this?’ Perry asked. The two entertainment executives regarded him inscrutably. ‘I mean, isn’t it enough that everyone’s watching Channel Blue again? Can’t we all just go on with what we were doing before?’
Gerald O. Davidoff slowly nodded his mane of white hair. ‘Son, I truly understand your desire to get on with your life,’ he said. ‘I do. After all you’ve been through? We all understand. But it’s not time for that yet. We all want to consolidate the show’s success. For that to happen, our friends in the media need to make sure that you’re the real thing. You can’t blame them, can you? They want to see for themselves that you’re really who you say you are.’
‘We’ve already sent them samples of your DNA, of course,’ Elvis said. ‘That’s why we gave you the haircut before the Del Waddle episode. But there’ll always be cynics who will accuse us of tinkering with your hair, which leads us to this baby right here.’ Elvis smacked the metal column in the middle of the stage with the palm of his hand.
‘Why don’t you show Perry how it works?’ Gerald O. Davidoff said. Elvis gamely hopped onto the stage and sat down on the metal column.
‘Normal,’ a soothing female voice pronounced.
Elvis smiled and stood. ‘It’s that easy.’
‘Perry, why don’t you give it a try?’ The elderly executive gestured to the column. After a moment, Perry hauled himself up onto the stage and sat down on it.
‘Product of fornication,’ the same soothing voice pro-nounced.
Gerald O. Davidoff smiled. ‘You see? It’s never wrong. That’s why we call it the Stool of Truth.’
Even in his demoralised state, Perry couldn’t help giggling. ‘Is that really what you call it?’
The founder of Channel Blue stared back at him solemnly. ‘Yes.’ Perry covered his mouth with his hand like a child caught laughing in church. ‘Now, tonight we will begin the press conference with a series of highlights from the series. Then, after Elvis makes a few introductory remarks, you will sit on the Stool of Truth. Having thus settled the issue of your genetic make-up once and for all, we can focus on getting to know the real Perry Bunt—’ He swept his hand up towards the immense Earth on the screen. ‘Right in front of this beautiful live image of the planet you spent so much effort saving.’ He paused and smiled warmly. ‘I think it’s going to be spectacular.’
‘Here are some of the questions you might be asked,’ Elvis said, handing Perry a small screen.
Perry read from the screen. Do you feel like an animal whenever you have a bowel movement? Why do Earthles love dogs and hate people? After defecating, how do you wipe excrement from your anal orifice without being completely repulsed by yourself? What animal do you most feel like when you masturbate? Perry looked up. ‘I’m sorry, but these seem completely insane.’
‘To you, yes, I can see that,’ said Gerald O. Davidoff in a kindly way. ‘But you must indulge them, Perry. Just think of this press conference as your next episode of Bunt to the Rescue. Which, of course, it is.’
‘I have a question about that,’ Perry said, seizing the moment. He tried to phrase the next words as delicately as possible. ‘How many more episodes were you planning?’ Again God and Elvis stared at him impassively, increasing his discomfort. ‘I appreciate everyone’s enthusiasm, I really do. I’m very grateful,’ he said pointedly with a glance at Amanda, ‘and I really appreciate being alive. And the Earth not being blown up and everything. But I don’t think I can be on your channel anymore.’
‘Perry, you’re a star,’ Elvis said. ‘Right now, you are the most famous person on Earth. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?’
‘What I wanted was someone on Earth to know about it,’ Perry thought about saying – but didn’t because the last thing he needed was anyone else thinking he was an ingrate. ‘Like I said, I appreciate everything. But having experienced fame, I guess I’d rather go back to teaching.’
While Gerald O. Davidoff’s expression remained indecipherable, Elvis shook his head and chuckled in amazement. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I know you think our lives our worthless down there,’ Perry said, ‘but right now all I want to do is get back to leading one. I can’t keep running around getting beaten and nearly killed so you can keep up your ratings. I can’t do it. If that’s what you want, you might as well kill me now and get it over with, because I’m not going back to Earth and doing that.’
Elvis and Gerald O. Davidoff exchanged a quick glance. ‘Don’t worry, Perry,’ the elderly executive soothed. ‘I promise you that you won’t have to. Not ever again.’
Perry stared at the founder of Channel Blue, afraid that he hadn’t heard him correctly. ‘Really?’
Gerald O. Davidoff grinned. ‘My word is good.’
‘We’re actually very glad you feel this way,’ Elvis said. ‘The beat-down thing was getting old.’
‘Your days of being abused by Earthles are over,’ Gerald O. Davidoff said emphatically.
‘Thank you,’ Perry said, nearly faint with relief. ‘In that case—’ He turned to Amanda. She stared at him guardedly. He took a breath and spoke. ‘Amanda, I want you to come with me. And I’ll work every day for the rest of my life to make you not regret the decision. Would you consider it?’
After a moment, Amanda broke into a smile, and Perry felt the tension between them evaporate into the recycled air. ‘Yes,’ she said.
Perry smiled back and took her hand.
Gerald O. Davidoff also beamed, evincing an aura of great benevolence. ‘How very delightful.’
Elvis pulled off his tinted glasses and wiped his eyes with one hand. ‘I swear to God, you have to repeat this for the cameras.’ He put his glasses back on. ‘Amanda, you are one crazy nutburger. I remember ’bout these pregnant-lady hormones from my days on Earth. You are batshit loony and I love it!’
The founder of Channel Blue stood. ‘Spend as much time as you want in here, make yourselves comfortable. Just be sure you both get some rest before the press conference. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay for it – I’m needed elsewhere. But I have faith in both of you. I’ll be watching.’ With a twinkling smile, he stepped lightly out of the conference room.
>
‘You’re gonna be awesome tonight!’ Elvis pronounced, slapping Perry on the back and heading towards the door.
‘I didn’t really mean that about hating your music,’ Perry blurted out. ‘I’ve actually always loved it.’
Elvis paused at the door. ‘Truth is, I never really thought of it as music. I was just down there to brainwash teenagers and make them go crazy. And it worked.’ He curled his lips into a grin and headed out of the door.
When the door shut behind him, Perry ran to Amanda and picked her up in his arms. ‘We did it!’
‘I told you it would all work out.’ Amanda shook her head in amazement. ‘Can you believe it? Gerald O. Davidoff himself actually came here to talk to us! About a press conference! That’s unheard of. He never gets caught up in details – he’s totally a big-picture guy.’
‘He said it, right? He said that I don’t have to rescue the Earth anymore.’
Amanda nodded emphatically. ‘That’s what he said. And he never lies. Everyone in the galaxy knows that.’
For the first time in days, Perry allowed himself to feel relief. All the terror he’d been pushing aside welled up inside him and he sobbed in large shuddering spasms. Amanda put her arms around him and kissed his tears. She found his lips and they kissed. Perry broke away and scanned the room.
‘There are no cameras,’ Amanda said, reading his thoughts.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. They don’t wire the moon. Everyone’s here to watch Earth.’
They kissed some more. Perry stroked the side of her face. ‘How long until this stupid press conference?’
‘About an hour.’
‘A whole hour?’ He smiled at her. ‘That’s a lot of time. Especially considering we only need, what was it? Several seconds?’
Amanda laughed and punched him. ‘I guess I should’ve said, the most memorable several seconds of my life.’ They kissed again.
‘I hate competing with myself,’ Perry said, ‘but I think we might be able to better that time.’