This eBook is published by
Fictionwise Publications
www.fictionwise.com
Excellence in eBooks
Visit www.fictionwise.com to find more titles by this and other top authors in Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, Mystery, and other genres.
This eBook copyrighted. See the first page of this book for full copyright information. Fictionwise
www.Fictionwise.com
Copyright 2005 by Carl Frederick
First published in Analog Magazine, June 2005
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment. It was raining on Planet K. In a mere sixty seconds, hundreds of drops had poured down, washing away about a third of the indigenous population. Walter Anders, the planet's designated god, worried for his job.
"The bounded waters should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, and make a sop of all this solid globe, he said as he scooped up some freely-floating globules of water laced with ants. Troilus & Cressida, Act 1, scene 3. He deposited the soggy ants back onto the medicine-ball-sized planet, his hands tingling from the electrostatics that served in place of gravity on the small sphere. But it wasn't the rain that troubled himat least not nearly as much as the lightning. Awkward in his magnetic boots, Walter clomped to the door connecting the studio to the control room. He shook his head. Even after a week, it was still hard to think of the two small adjoining cabins as a movie production site.
As he unclipped the lightning generator's ground from the float handle under the lock panel, he noticed the lock's Set Combination display was lit. He grimaced. Maybe using a ground so close to electronics had not been a great idea. If K.V. wanted lightning, he said, aloud, even though, except for the ants, he was the only living soul in the studio, why couldn't he just add it in post production?" Startled by a pounding from without, Walter swiveled around and slapped the Open button. The door swung away. Chief Engineer Robinson, scowling, stepped into the studio. Didn't you hear the door-chime?"
"No, said Walter. There was no chime."
Robinson glanced at the lock panel. My combination didn't work. Yeah. Something's wrong. He tapped a finger on the lock display, but without effect. Engineering reported a power surge down here.
He looked up at Walter and then at the meter-diameter sphere in the middle of the room. The planet
was at the center of an aluminum tetrahedron, some two meters high. At each vertex, an air jet sent a gentle flow on to the sphere, keeping it from drifting and providing a planetary wind that could possibly equate to weather. Robinson walked over and batted at a few of the tiny water globules that engulfed the sphere. What the hell happened here?"
"A rainstorm, said Walter. Rehearsing a shoot. And K.V. wanted a storm, replete with lightning."
"Jeez. Robinson gazed at the globe, alive with ants scurrying about on the surface. They look half drowned."
"The storm got a triffle out of control."
"I'll say it got out of control. Robinson spread his arms. My gosh. Did you expect a Noah of the Ants to rise up and build an ark? He spun around. Lightning? What do you mean, lightning?" In haste, Walter considered his role; should he play wounded innocence or astonished observer'? He chose the former and then described what happenedending with a theatrical sigh. Robinson nodded, then examined the lightning generator, rolling it over in his hands. I can't believe they'd space-qualify a device like this. He slapped the little generator back onto its Velcro bulkhead fastener. That little gadget is probably the cause of the power surgeand our lock problem, too."
"Regrettable, said Walter, but we need it for the shoot." Robinson leaned against the table jutting from the bulkheadan action of ritual rather than comfort in the gravity-free environment. Amazing, what we have to do for funding, he said, more to himself than to Walter, tourism, high-tech billionaires having a fling, and now a movie production company. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. 21st Century Flix filming their next megahit, The Planet of the Ants'." Walter laughed. And with a director, my boss, who thinks he's master of the universe."
"I sympathize, said Robinson.
"Oh, you've met him?"
"God's gift to the space station? Robinson chuckled. K.V. is a hard person to miss."
"I dote upon his very absence, said Walter. Merchant of Venice, Act 1, scene 2." Chuckling again, Robinson headed for the doorway. I'll see what we can do about the lock, he said.
And don't use the lightning generator again until I'm convinced it won't wreck the station. He stepped through the door from the studio to the control room. Walter accompanied him.
"Why are you guys shooting your film up here, anyway? said Robinson. Wouldn't computer graphics have been cheaper?"
"Much cheaper. But the publicity we get by shooting live on the space station is priceless Walter snapped down with a magnetic boot, making more noise than was necessary. K.V. lives and breathes publicity."
"Hard to believe he'd come to the space station just for publicity."
"Do believe it, said Walter. We're only shooting stock background shots. There's no reason for him to even be here. He closed the studio door behind him and followed Robinson through the tiny makeshift control room and onward to the outer hatch which opened onto the space station's central corridor. Robinson glanced back around the cabin. What is all that stuff? He nodded toward two chairs with joysticks on their armrests. They had seatbelts and they faced twin computer monitors. Looks like a big video arcade game."
Walter waved an arm expansively, indicating the entirety of the tiny cabin. This vast vestibule is our control room. He walked to one of the chairs and waved Robinson over. This is a game-controller of sorts. It controls a planetary exploration vehiclea rover'. Tiny little thing. Pointing toward the doorway to the studio, he added, It's on the surface of the globe in therePlanet K."
"Cute, said Robinson. But why two? He walked over to the second console.
"The rovers have high-resolution motion picture cameras. Walter threw a switch on the console, and an image appeared on his console display. This is the terrain close up, at planet-level. He slipped his hand over the controller and the image moved. So yes, two rovers. One to film the actions of the other." Robinson leaned in and moved his hand casually over the buttons of the second rover's controller.
"Careful, Walter called out. I wouldn't push that button. It fires one of the rover's guns." Robinson drew back his hand. Guns?"
"It is, after all, said Walter, an action-adventure movie we're filming. He tried to strike a pose of
studied indifference', despite knowing that in zero-g, body language was a bit iffy.
"Jeez. Robinson stood upright. Looks like fun. He headed toward the open hatchway while Walter went to the door to the studio.
"Oh dear!"
"Problem? said Robinson from behind.
"Locked. Walter keyed in the combination but the door still wouldn't open. Yes. A problem." His magnetic boots clanking on the metal decking, Robinson hurried over and peered at the lock control panel. I'm embarrassed to say that I don't know much about these things. He shrugged. We've never used them. In fact, you guys are the first who've ever asked them to be turned on."
"K.V's a bit batty about security, said Walter, looking over Robinson's shoulder. The door. Can you open it?"
Next page