Page 5 - Unlikely Stories 2

Hitch MacGuffin’s Last Role

catharsis is carefully calibrated. The distinguishing characteristic of
this production would be the insertion of a live actor into a minor
role. Hitch and his fellow relics saw clearly that the part did not put
Homo sapiens in a flattering light: the unlikely savior’s avatar would
come across a deformed beggar in the street, make the unlikely
connection between mutilation and the only possible Achilles’ heel in
the deadly virus about to shut down the world’s highly-integrated
sewer system, and generate the Trojan worm to make the villain
spectacularly implode.
“I don’t see why they need you.” Russell Hurd was derisive.
“Dozens, hundreds of twisted, misshapen virtual examples of our
species are available to Logical—and not just Lon Chaney and his
imitators: real ones, from documentaries.”
Hitch frowned as much as his face would allow.
Val Kerry saved him the effort of formulating a suitably insulting
reply. “You are belaboring the obvious, Russell. After all these years
of dredging up the same old images of, well, disablement, the public
needs to be shown something new. Hitch never made another film
after the accident, so Logical cannot easily recreate him. And he’s
affordable: we work for peanuts—it’s economics. The bottom line is
all that matters, all that’s ever mattered. It’s a wonder we were able to
do such great work in the old days under those conditions.”
If her intent was to deflect Hurd’s dyspeptic wrath from Hitch to
herself, she succeeded. “Hah!” he barked. “Name one artistic venture
in which you ever participated. Show me a review by a credible critic!
If we were such expressive geniuses, how could we have been so
quickly replaced by simulacra in a bloodless coup, not a shot fired?”
Helen had to chime in. “Let’s not rake over those dead coals,
people! Like every other revolution, its inevitable advent is obvious in
hindsight. Same thing happened with music: all electronic ersatz now.
And on and on with the other arts—it may that replacement of what
once was natural occurred because its artificial competitor was
superior—or not: the quality of human culture was certainly in
decline when it happened. The result is the same: slave becomes
master.”
Hitch rose, leaning unsteadily on his cane. “Enough,” he croaked.
“I’ve got to get going. My public awaits me. Too old to care about
hiding any more. Nor shall I second-guess central casting.”

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