Rogue(52)

I chuckled back. “Yet another advantage,” I said. “In L.A., Variety and half the competition know you’ve signed a contract before you’re out of the office. Damned spies. It’s like being in a second rate vid in real life.”

“I remember,” he said.

If he only knew how accurate it was this time.

Three days later, I had my actors. Some had been without work and were eager. Others took vacation time. A couple were established locals. All had some experience at least, and I trusted Schinck, as I didn’t know enough to make a call. I did, however, assume that at least one was a plant. It couldn’t be helped.

We met first at Schinck’s office. I took him at his word, because none of them jumped out as problematic.

He introduced me, I stepped up and gave just enough condescension to look like an offworlder struggling with the culture. They grinned rather than frowned, so I’d gauged it correctly.

“This is a marketing stunt for our new video system,” I said. “You all look quite close, and after the compositing is done, there will be even more of you, and no one will be able to tell you’re not one person. The portable holo units should even fool a lot of bystanders.”

They all looked amused.

“We have a principal for you to work around, so the important thing is to make sure you can match gaits. Looks aren’t going to be the tell, the giveaway. Movement and mannerisms are. You need to match him, and each other.”

I got more nods.

“So Sayina Meluki will take over on choreography.”

She smiled and waved and said, “We will be at my studio each morning.”

They were all signed on nondisclosures, which I gathered from my past experience were pretty binding. This place was clannish, and they didn’t care much for word outside the clan, but they knew when someone might deliver divine retribution. They’d been hired by someone apparently with money enough to travel between stars for marketing concerns, and they were from different factions themselves. It was easy to imagine vengeance if they reneged.

I’d rented a bus, and we piled in. I took the front, Silver sat next to Meluki. It was clean outside, rattly inside, like so much of this planet. But, it was functional. The clean was a fresh coat of paint, done semiprofessionally.

We dropped off a block early and I made sure the driver got a tip and went back to the office. We walked the rest of the way, while I called Schinck and explained what I’d done.

“Give the driver another ten and tell him we’re through for the day,” I said.

“Will do,” he agreed.

True to form, the first item on the agenda was tea. Meluki had an assistant, a cute little thing perhaps fifteen Earth years and disturbingly flexible, who had tea and honey and rice cakes ready. She also swept the studio, which was converted warehouse space with bars, mirrors, chromakeys and some basic vid gear.

You can’t rush them and I didn’t. I had some tea—quite good. It does well in their soil and light, and is more complex than Earth tea but lighter. Some of them knew each other, and chatted a bit. As actors, they were used to working with women and didnstay aloof of Meluki or Silver, but I knew they would resume the charade in public. That was part of the problem for Mtali. Even those who didn’t care for the outdated theopolitics went along for safety and tradition. They didn’t have any problems with their sects here, either. Outside, the fighting continued.

The tea done, they changed into suits and got to practicing walking and stance.

They worked hard all day, and definitely were much closer to his gait, our “standard” gait, by dinner. I made a note to boost the pay slightly. They all thought this was a professionally listed gig. It was a put-on all around. A few extra dinars should fix it.

The next day, I had a tailor fit them for matching suits, after which they did another four hours practice. Meluki and I pronounced their presentation excellent.

“You won’t quite fool his father,” I said, without saying whose father it was. They all smiled. Then I had the caterers roll in a cart with braised lamb and accessories. Actors get paid in food as much as in money.

I turned to the skillful Sayina Meluki and thanked her.

“It was a fun project, sir. I’m eager to see how it turns out.”

So was I. If we were correct, Randall was fairly going to shit himself.

“Watch the vid and you’ll see.”

I wasn’t going to key the actors in until show time. They were going to be impressed by the notoriety, though, for good or bad.

In retrospect I feel guilty. I’m sure some of them were harassed or otherwise affected by the event. Just because I needed to do it doesn’t make it right. However, I hoped any trouble they had would be trumped by Alrab’s survival, bastard that he can be.