Page 9 - Like No Business I Know
P. 9

Movie Time

        Heidi’s alarm was already turning into a desire for retribution: who
        had  been  gossiping  to  this  old  biddy?  Clarence?  It  had  to  be
        somebody at the studio; nobody else could know those things.
          Heidi  kept  her  professional  life  as  a  script-girl  at  Empire  Films
        totally  separate  from  her  involvement  with  the  other  residents  of
        Golden Gables—maybe working in the industry was no big deal in
        Hollywood,  but  she  had  no  desire  to  be  constantly  fending  off
        requests  for  publicity  photos,  job  interviews,  and  loans.  Her  salary
        was minimal, and most people thought working in the movies was
        highly-paid:  for  those  behind  the  camera  without  a  union  behind
        them it was not.
          She opened the door wider.
          “All right. Come in. But don’t think you’re going to blackmail me.
        I’ve  got  friends  in  this  town,  lady.  You’d  better  think  twice  about
        running any of that—”
          The woman entered briskly, taking the only armchair and placing
        her purse on her lap.
          “As I said, Miss Holman, I bring no threats or unpleasant news,
        only an unprecedented offer. Please sit down.”
          Heidi did not like being ordered about in her own apartment, but
        she closed the door and perched on the edge of her overstuffed love
        seat.  Eyeing  her  guest  warily,  she  took  out  a  cigarette,  tapped  it
        against her thumbnail and lit it.
          “I’m waiting,” she said icily.
          “You  may  call  me  Mrs.  Lachesis,  although  that’s  not  really  my
        name,” began the other. “I revealed those facts about you in order to
        introduce myself. I am an agent for certain parties whose names you
        need not know, and whose faces you will never see. Never, because
        they live in the twenty-second century.”
          Heidi’s granite features shattered into shards of merriment.
          “Whew! For a minute there I was almost taking you seriously, Mrs.
        Whatever-your-name-is. Look: just tell me the name of the hospital
        you  escaped  from,  and  I’ll  call  them.  They  ought  to  send  an
        ambulance around for you right away.”
          The  visitor  smiled  and  looked  at  her  watch.  “It’s  time  for  a
        demonstration. Turn on your radio to the ‘Lucky Stars’ broadcast.”
          “Are you kidding me? I never listen to that program.”



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