Space Living (EarthCent Universe Book 4) Page 20

  The alien storytellers all looked at each other for a long moment, and then the Verlock said, “We can live with scientific inaccuracy. When can you start?”

  “Excuse me?” Geoffrey said, setting down the fork he had just picked up. “Start what?”

  “Writing scripts,” Ronald told him. “None of us have ever worked with the format. I stole a book from your library, Screenwriting for Humans, but it all seemed very tedious. What do any of us know about camera placements or dissolves? I got as far as the difference between establishing-shots and slow-pans before I gave up.”

  “We’ll tell you our ideas and you could flesh out the details in return for a piece of the action,” the Drazen storyteller offered. “How about ten percent? That seems fair for what’s basically secretarial work. After all, it’s the ideas that really matter.”

  Bianca began to choke on her salad, and Julie hurried over to thump her gently on the back and give her a glass of water.

  “Is that really what you think?” Geoffrey asked. “I’ve been in the business for almost fifty years, and while I know that’s not a long time for most of you, it’s more than half a lifetime for us,” he said, sweeping a hand to take in Bianca and Ronald. “Ideas aren’t worth their weight in electrons. You have to be able to craft something that an audience can relate to, something that inspires or entertains.”

  “Everything starts with an idea,” the Verlock said.

  “If you’re looking for a ghostwriter to get your stories down on paper, there are a couple of writers in our colony who might be willing to do some creative transcribing in return for an hourly wage. But you won’t find screenwriters anywhere in this galaxy willing to write scripts for you on the speculation of receiving ten percent of your take if you ever find a buyer.”

  Ronald glared at Samuel. “You said this was all set up!”

  “I said the meeting was set up. I had no idea what you planned to get out of it, and I certainly didn’t expect you to ask Mr. Harstang to write a script for you.”

  “Scripts. Plural. We have lots of stories.”

  “Listen,” Bianca said, joining the conversation for the first time. “I’ve been attending your open storytelling sessions out of curiosity and most of your performances with all of the descriptions aren’t that far from being anime scripts. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that for business reasons the studios all want to do series. The question I have is, do any of you tell stories that reuse the same characters and settings, or are they all one-offs loosely based on actual events?”

  “I would have noticed if you attended any of our storytelling sessions,” the Dollnick said skeptically. “I have an excellent memory, and the only Humans who showed up were cosplayers.”

  “I came as a jaguar shifter,” Bianca said. “I like to keep in practice.”

  “The predatory feline with the twitchy tail? Then you heard me tell the story about the wayward prince and the Terregram mage. There are thousands of Wayward Prince stories in the Dollnick Wanderer canon, and most of them are bloody.”

  “Bloody is good,” Geoffrey said. “Are there any issues with the rights?”

  “Hold on a second,” the Drazen said. “Anybody can bleed, but if you’re looking for continuity and thrills, our Rogue Consortium stories are known for their realistic depictions of industrial espionage, betrayal, and murder on a planetary scale.”

  “They should be, considering the plots are all copied from our famous Business Pirates tales,” the Horten storyteller said.

  “What could be more exciting than our Travelling Blacksmith saga?” the Frunge demanded. “We’ve been telling those stories for over a million years. There’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a big enough hammer.”

  “I came in too late to hear your whole story, but I was taken by the ending,” Bianca said, directing her words at the Verlock who was sitting across from her. “It’s the first time I remember hearing a dramatic story where the hero wins by solving a mathematical equation.”

  “I know many such exciting tales,” the Verlock said, his enthusiasm apparent despite his slow speaking cadence. “Would you like to hear one now?”

  “No!” the other storytellers all shouted as one.

  “When you get back to the Miklat, why don’t you spend some time writing up, or, uh, dictating a selection of stories that would work well in serialization, and I’ll send them around to the industry people I know,” Geoffrey offered.

  “That sounds an awful lot like work,” Ronald said, pulling a face. “How about if we dug up recordings of our previous performances and you pick out the ones with the best commercial potential?”

  “I think we have them,” Flower spoke suddenly over Julie’s implant. “Get in there and tell them that the Grenouthian director is on the way with an offer. Make something up about how enthusiastic he is.”

  Julie cleared her voice and announced, “I’ve been informed that the Grenouthian director who manages Flower Studios has heard about your wealth of material and is on his way here to talk about a potential series. He’s a big fan of the Wanderer Mob anime series that was up against Everyday Superheroes in the awards last year.”

  “Bah, that’s basically a children’s show,” the Dollnick said. “Who cares about little Zarents riding around on unicycles trying to keep the mob’s ships from exploding. We’re talking about real drama, with evil entities and battle scenes that will make your feathered crest stand on end.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what the director is looking for,” Julie said, hoping that Flower was keeping the Grenouthian updated. “I think—”

  “Now let’s slow things down for a moment,” Ronald interrupted. “Dangling an anime series in front of us is all well and good, but we still have to deliver something for our followers.”

  “Unfortunately, he has a point,” the Drazen storyteller said. “If we were talking about an immersive, we could offer our compatriots roles as extras, but that won’t work with anime.”

  “I’ve never seen everybody so willing to stand in line as they have been for those LARPing studios,” the Dollnick said. “If we took those with us…”

  “They aren’t mine to give,” Samuel protested, but the Wanderers ignored him.

  “That might work,” the Verlock said. “We should probably put it to a vote.”

  “And some cash payment, even if it’s just twenty or thirty creds a head,” the Dollnick said.

  “Yes, a cash payment is essential,” Ronald agreed.

  “What about the Zarents?” the Horten asked. “We can’t have them lording it over us or we’ll be the laughing stock of the mobs.”

  “Our mob will treat us like returning heroes if we have those LARPing studios on board,” the Drazen said confidently.

  “So we’ll put it to a vote and get back to you with our final demands,” Ronald said to Samuel and rose to his feet. “I want to make sure everything is on track for the Break Rock dance. It’s about time we made some money out of our trip.”

  “Where are you going?” the old Dollnick demanded. “I’ll admit you’ve done a fine job negotiating for us to this point but you need to learn patience. We’re going to wait and hear what the Grenouthian director has to say. He’s award-winning, you know.”

  “Humans,” the Verlock said. “We’ve been on Flower less than a cycle and he’s rushing to close the deal. I’ve never been involved in such fast negotiations in my life.”

  Samuel bit back a groan and plastered on a smile.

  Nineteen

  “Thank you, Teacher,” Julie said to the Drazen choir mistress at the end of her singing lesson. “I always feel better when I leave here.”

  “Did you mean that as a compliment?” Rinka asked. “Humanese needs to evolve a conjugation that expresses intent.”

  “I meant that your lessons fill me with joy, not that leaving makes me feel better.”

  “I’m sure it’s the act of singing that fills you with joy as opposed to my corrections.
Are you and Bill coming to the Break Rock dance tonight?”

  “Are they letting us visit the habitat?” Julie asked. “I’ve gotten so used to the open worlds refusing to allow Flower’s shuttles to land that I’ve almost forgotten that we ever left the ship.”

  “Break Rock didn’t put any restrictions on visitors, but that’s because it’s run by Humans. Jorb told me that a few Wanderers went over for a look and they came scurrying right back again. But the dance is here, on the Con deck. The Wanderers are putting it on for the guests from Break Rock.”

  “What?”

  “You have to buy tickets,” Rinka explained. “I told Jorb to get an extra pair just in case they sell out. I’ve never been to a Wanderer dance but they’re sort of legendary among the clubbing crowd. When a mob stops at a Stryx station, most of the traffic is to their dance hall.”

  “How many people can they possibly fit in one dance?” Julie asked.

  “Here, I don’t know. I suppose it depends on how much space Flower lets them have, but mobs usually dedicate a whole ship to dancing and music. It’s sort of their thing.”

  “With all the grief they’ve given Flower, I’m not sure I should go. It feels kind of like consorting with the enemy.”

  “Putting on live entertainment events is the closest the Wanderers come to doing anything constructive so I’m sure she approves,” Rinka said. “Besides, it’s an excuse to dress up.”

  “All right. What time is it? I’ll have to tell Bill, and maybe we can meet somewhere and all go together. It feels like I haven’t seen him outside of work in weeks.”

  “The Wanderers are fond of around-the-clock parties so it doesn’t really have a start time,” Rinka said. “Why don’t you ping me after you talk to Bill? And you should make sure Samuel and Vivian know about it. Maybe it would help with their negotiations.”

  “Will do,” Julie said and headed back to work. Something seemed off when she arrived at her office and it actually took her a few seconds to realize what it was. “What happened to my scale model?” she asked out loud.

  “It wasn’t a challenge for you anymore so I had it removed,” Flower said. “There’s a point at which putting a puzzle together faster and faster doesn’t teach you anything new.”

  “Did you have it taken back to the shipyard to train the workers?” When no answer was forthcoming, Julie glared up at the ceiling. “Okay, what is it you’re trying to hide from me this time?”

  “I wasn’t pausing intentionally. There’s a Verlock mage working on a powerful incantation in my second LARPing studio at the same time that a Wanderer raiding party is staging a night attack in my first LARPing studio. I just got busy for a moment.”

  “And…”

  “I had the scale model brought to the Big Boots kindergarten, the one that Pyun Em is attending, though if I had my way, she’d be in sixth grade by now.”

  “You’re talking about the captain and Lynx’s little girl? She can’t even be six years old.”

  “What does age have to do with academic attainments?” Flower said. “At least this way she’ll learn something more useful than building towers with foam blocks.”

  “Are you going to send the kindergarten the manual?” Julie couldn’t restrain herself from asking.

  “That would be a bit much for the age group. What are you going to wear to the dance?”

  “A dress. Are you a fashion consultant now?”

  “You’ve been working so hard lately that I decided to give you a bonus,” Flower said. “It’s a gift certificate to Royal Outfitters.”

  “The Vergallian fashion chain? All of their stuff costs a fortune and it’s designed for women who don’t eat.”

  “That’s just the models in the advertisements. They’d go out of business if they only sold to women who fit in sub-zero sizes. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off and pick something out?”

  Julie hesitated. “Is there something more to this that I’m missing? You’re not going to ask me to seduce some Wanderer chief, are you?”

  “If I thought seduction would get them off the ship I would have sent Avisia, the Vergallian intelligence agent who runs the finishing school. And hurry up or they won’t have time to make alterations.”

  “Can you ping Bill for me?”

  “I’m putting him through, but don’t talk long because he’s busy,” Flower said.

  “Julie?” Bill’s voice asked in her head.

  “We’re invited to a dance with Jorb and Rinka later. I’ll ping Vivian and ask her to tell Samuel.”

  “I’ll tell Jorb as soon as we get killed. I’m kind of in the middle of a battle with orcs.”

  “Sorry. We’ll talk later,” Julie said and broke the connection. “Sounds like you finally got them a turn in the LARPing studio, Flower.”

  “I snuck them in the service entrance under the guise of doing maintenance, and they’re pretending to be self-aware non-player characters. The Wanderer raid they joined just ran into an orc ambush.”

  “Doesn’t that mean that you ambushed them? So you can stop.”

  “Aside from the moral hazard inherent in favoring one group of players over another, if I let them win I’ll have to create a new dungeon, and I’m running out of ideas,” Flower said.

  “Can’t you just ask some of the gamers from Bits to help?”

  “They’ve been joining with the Wanderers to get playing time. Humans are so far behind the other species at everything that I never realized how competitive you are at gaming.”

  “Doesn’t that make the information from the Bitters even more valuable?”

  “If they would share it with me, but when I said they’re competitive, I meant that they want to win at all costs,” Flower said. “Zick supplied me with a dungeon design that he claimed would stand up against assaults for weeks. Then he walked right through because he knew all the tricks.”

  “Oh, that’s pretty low,” Julie said.

  “And the worst part is that he got so much legendary and epic gear from looting the dungeon boss that I’d be hard put to kill him now if my life depended on it.”

  “Uh, Flower? You’re not getting addicted to LARPing yourself, are you? I mean, it’s just a made-up game, right?” The lift tube capsule door closed and it started off on its own accord. When there wasn’t any answer, she asked, “Are you busy again?”

  “Sorry, I got caught up in something, but it’s all taken care of,” Flower said, sounding rather smug.

  “You didn’t kill Bill, did you?”

  “He knew what he was getting into when he joined the raid, and it’s not like I targeted him in particular.”

  “What did you do to them?” Julie demanded.

  “Dragon,” Flower said as if that explained everything. “I borrowed the construct from my mentor.”

  “You got a holographic dragon from the Stryx?”

  “It’s not like I could have whipped up a better one myself, and there’s no sense in reinventing the wheel. Plus, dragons are nearly impervious to magical attacks, so I’m sending it against the Verlock mage in the other LARPing studio as we speak.”

  “Is that fair?” Julie asked as the capsule door slid open on a corridor with a small number of luxury shops that the ship’s population and visitors could support. “What can players do against a dragon?”

  “Not much, especially when they’re caught unprepared,” Flower reported happily. “Scratch one Verlock mage.”

  “So is that it? Everybody will stop playing now?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t just throw the dragon against every adventurer, and all magic has a cost involved. In the case of dragons, it’s eating and sleeping, which means that from now on, I’ll have to be on guard against poisoned sheep carcasses and heroes sneaking into the lair. Besides, it’s a loan, not a gift, so I have to be extra careful.”

  “I thought it was just a copy of computer code that your mentor sent you over the Stryxnet,” Julie said.

  “No
t to sound mysterious but it’s more complicated than that. Have you ever considered dusk?”

  “Huh? Is that a philosophical question? Not since I’ve been living on board, anyway.”

  “I’m talking about the color, for a dress,” Flower said. “Let’s try to stay on mission.”

  “I’ve never even heard of it.” Julie stopped to look at the latest fashions in the display window of the Vergallian boutique. “Is it a Dollnick color?”

  “It’s a sort of light purple. The SBJ Fashions catalog describes it as ‘dusty purple’, but other than the vowels, I don’t see the connection.”

  “I was thinking of something in blue.”

  “Everybody wears blue. I’ve been keeping an eye on the early arrivals to the Break Rock dance and forty percent of the women are wearing blue.”

  “How about red?”

  “Twenty-two percent.”

  “White?”

  “Perfect,” Flower said. “I’ll arrange for the captain to come and you and Bill can finally get married.”

  “Alright, already. I’ll look at dusk if they have it, but only because you’re buying.”

  Before Julie had taken three steps into the boutique, an elegantly dressed Vergallian man materialized at her side. “Is this your first time visiting us?” he asked. “I’m sure I would have remembered you, but I am absent on a regular basis to attend the fashion shows. If you’ve been here before you must have dealt with one of the assistants.”

  “I’ve never been here,” Julie told him. “Flower said she was giving me a gift certificate and—”

  “Hold that thought,” the Vergallian said and called over his shoulder. “Batya, Bandia. We have a special customer.”

  By the time Julie escaped from the boutique two hours later, she felt like she had worked a double shift and was worried that she wouldn’t have any energy left for dancing.

  “Go home and take a nap,” Flower advised without being asked. “I’ll wake you when Bill is dressed and ready to go.”

  “Did you give him the afternoon off as well?”

  “I would have, but M793qK grabbed him as soon as he got out of the LARPing studio. They’re performing safety testing on a dozen brands of microwave popcorn.”