Rogue(51)

Acting is simultaneously pure art and pure greed. Given a role, actors will compete mightily for it, and take little money. This is why their agencies exist; to demand outrageous amounts of money. I planned to exploit the latter.

Silver set me up with an Earth suit and business flashes. They were piezo, digital and expensive. As I only needed a few, and had money to burn relative to the project, I looked like a big shot. I called ahead for an appointment, and insisted on discretion.

“I’m with Taylor and Ozuka,” I said, “but this must be kept quiet. Most of our own people don’t know we’re doing this.”

The receptionist I spoke to was a young woman, probably a Sufi of Turk ancestry, who said, “I understand, sir. Will three o’clock high work for you?”

“I really need something earlier if possible.”

“There may be some time right after lunch at one high.”

“I’ll make sure I’m there. I can wait if I need to.”

Meanwhile, Silver went about recruiting an established retired theater actress turned teacher. There were three in the area. She found one I’d heard of, with good credibility. Sayina (Ms) Aysa Meluki.

I arrived for my meeting promptly at ten minutes to one. The receptionist took my card and I made it a point to stand. The office was small, clean, but a few years out of date. The walls held shots of various projects and some local business markers.

Eight minutes later, the head of the agency, John Schinck, came out to greet me.

“Mr. Blenton? John Schinck.” His accent was pure New York, and I surmised he’d moved here to run his own agency, cheaper and with less hassle than on Earth. He looked Earth, not local, probably for the aura of respectability. He was taller than me, smooth-headed and his acquiescence to local culture was a button-necked shirt instead of a pullover.

I said, “Pleased to meet you. It looks like you’re keeping busy.”

“I am, and that’s good. It’s a backwater, but there are some talented people here. Won’t you come into my office?”

“Thanks,” I said and followed him. “So I’m told. I work from L.A. myself, though it’s not home. This is remote, though.”

“Yeah, I was through on a documentary some years ago. It’s a rough planet some places, but very pretty, and you can make your own future.”

We took seats. These were comfortable, and he didn’t put a desk between us. He understood the locals that much.

The feel-out talk was good. I said, “I’ve thought about that myself. I got a good offer in L.A., but I want to move back out when I can.”

“So what can I help you with?” he asked, as he reached behind him to a fridge and offered me a real glass bottle of ice cold spring water, and got one for himself.

“A guerilla ad campaign.” I took the bottle and we twisted together.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“Mr. Alrab, who is a very complicated man, needs some media buzz.”

Schinck chuckled. “‘Complicated’ is certainly the word for him.”

“I thought you’d catch that,” I said, establishing that we were both in this for the money, not out of any sense of clannish duty. “I need up to ten actors who can pass as him once made up, with minimum enhancement. We’ll pay for training. Discretion is important. They just need to appear, wave, and disappear again. Easy work, but we want it quiet and we want skill.”

“Eminently doable. What’s your time frame?”

“A week from now latest to start training.”

“Tight, but I think I can find them. How much?”

“I’m agreeable to two hundred a day, local lodging or mileage, and meals. We’ll need them about ten days and if it’s less, I can pay up to that.”

“Two fifty,” he countered.

It was fair. He’d get the fifty.

“I can agree to that. Please let me know soonest,” I said. “More rehearsal time is better, and means more money for them.”

“A pleasure working with you, Mr. Blenton. I’ll have my assistant bring in a standard boilerplate.”

We swapped a few more pleasantries about being away from Earth. The spring water was actually that. UVed to sterilize it, but actual spring water with natural minerals. Very tasty.

The assistant brought in the contract on a tablet. No effort at all, but Schinck didn’t do his own documents. I understood that. It was a standard contract demanding insurance, compliance, default, payment, performance from all parties. I scrawled, and said, “Because we don’t want any leakage on the nodes, payment will be in cash.”

“Almost shady, if we weren’t on a planet where most things are cash,” he said with a laugh.