Algis Budrys - Michaelmas

“Uh, DC, good idea,” said the flat, faraway voice of EVM’s editorial director, using intercom bandwidth to save money. “We share your hunch. Look out for something from US Always. They’ve been pretty quiet so far. Matter of fact, I think what we’ll do now is go tickle her up and see what she thinks. Stand by for an advisory on that. And thank you for this shot; nice going. Paris out.” The air went dead.

“That was five minutes ago,” Domino said. “Then EVM contacted US Always for an interview with Hanrassy. Her information people said she wanted to wait a while in case of further developments, but she’d be available by nine, Central US time. That’s two hours and forty-seven minutes from now.”

“A clear pattern seems to be emerging,” Michaelmas said equably.

“Damn right. But that’s not the pattern I’m showing you.”

“Oh?”

“Here. This is ten minutes ago. Campion’s interview technique has been to calmly move from point to point of the Norwood story, collecting answers which will be edited for sequence and time. Norwood is doing the normal amount of lip-licking, and from time to time he looks sideward to Frontiere. There’s no question that any editing programme worthy of the name could turn him into a semi-invalid gamely concealing his doubts. On the other hand, it could cut all that and make him sharp as the end of a pin.”

“Colonel Norwood,” Campion’s voice said, “I’d like to follow up on that for just a moment. Now, you’ve just told us your flight was essentially routine until just before the explosion. But obviously you had some warning. Even an astronaut’s reflexes need a little time to get him into escape mode. Could you expand on that a little? What sort of warning did you have, and how much before the explosion did it come ?”

Frontiere’s voice broke in. “I think perhaps that is not something you should go into at this time, Mr Campion.”

“Why not?”

“It is simply something we ought not to discuss at this time.”

“I’d have to know more about that before I decided to drop the question.”

“Mr Campion, with all respect, I must insist. Now, please back up your recording and erase that question.”

There was a brief silence. Campion came in speaking slowly. “Or else our arrangement is at an end?”

Frontiere paused. “I wish you had not brought our discussion to such a juncture.”

Campion abruptly said : “Some day you’ll have to explain this to me. All right. Okay, crew, let’s roll it back to where I asked Walt about his flight path and the last word of his answer was ”sea“, I figure a reaction shot of me, and then I frame my next question and the out-take is completely tracked over, right? That seem good to you, Clementine? Okay, Luis, we rolling back?”

Clementine’s voice came in on the director trade. “Roll to ”eee“. Synch. Head Campion. Roll. And.”

“That’s it,” Domino said.

“That’s what?” Michaelmas said. “Frontiere hasn’t chosen to let in Campion on the telemetry sender story. Can you blame him?”

“Not my point. The unit they’re using does not simply feed the director’s tracking tape. It also sends direct to the EVM editing computer in Paris. No erasure took place there. The segment is already edited into the rough cut of the final broadcast. Including Norwood’s sudden side glance to Frontiere, Frontiere’s upset manner, and all.”

Michaelmas turned his head sharply toward the window, hiding his expression in the sky. Far ahead on the right forward quarter he could see C ap Bon sliding very slowly toward the wingtip, and Tunis a white speck stabbing at his eyes in the early afternoon sun.

“He’s young. It’s possible he doesn’t fully understand the equipment. Perhaps he thinks he did erase. It’s not necessary for… for any of them to know the exact nature of the equipment.”

“Possibly. But Campion’s contract with EVM specifies copy for simultaneous editing. He relinquished pre-editorial rights. In return for minimizing their production lag, he retains fact rights; he can use the same material as the basis for his own editions of byline book, cartridge, disc, or any other single-user package form known or to be developed during the term of copyright. And I assure you he went over every clause with EVM. He has a head for business.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“I went over it right behind him. I like to keep up with what sort of contracts are being written in our field.”

“So there’s no doubt he was deliberately lying to Getulio.”

“None at all, Mr Michaelmas. I’d say Campion’s intention all along was to provoke something like this. He’s a newsman. He smelled it out that UNAC was hiding something. He went fishing for it, and found it. When the programme runs tonight, the world will know UNAC is attempting to conceal something about the shuttle accident. And of course they’ll know the name of enterprising Douglas Campion.”

Michaelmas put his left fist inside his cupped right hand and stared sightlessly. He patted his knuckles into his palm.

“Did EVM come to him?”

“No. They were his last shot. He shopped around the US networks first. But all he’d tell anyone before signing a contract was that he thought he could get a Norwood exclusive and that he wanted to retain most of the ancillary rights. The responses he got were pretty low compared to his asking price. Then EVM picked him up. Gervaise filed an advisory to Paris. She said they’d had a conversation, and he was a good bet.”

“What time was that?”

“Twelve-twenty. She’d dropped you at your hotel and apparently went straight back to hers to check out. He was waiting in the hotel, hoping she’d talk to him. He’d left a message about it for her at the desk. Obviously she and he talked. She called Paris, and then EVM’s legal people called him to thrash out the contract. Everything on record is just straight business regarding quote an interview with Walter Norwood endquote.”

“There was no prior agreement on slant?”

“Why should there be one? Gervaise vouched for him, and she’s respected. They take what he gives them, splice in supporting matter as it comes, and the slant develops itself. It’s a hot subject, a good crew on it, as of a few minutes ago, no doubt in the world that they’re on to something that could become notorious as hell. It’s a world-class performance - a sure Pulitzer for Campion plus a dozen industry awards for the crew. It’s a Nobel Laureate contender for EVM. A likely winner if the year stays slow for news.”

“Well,” Michaelmas said, “I suppose a man could lie to his contact for all that.”

He had once seen a Chinese acrobat stack straight chairs one atop the other, balancing the rear two legs of each chair atop the backrest of the one below. The bottom chair had rested on four overturned water tumblers. The acrobat had built the stack chair by chair, while standing on each topmost chair. When the stack was twelve chairs high, the acrobat did a one-hand stand on the back of the topmost chair while rotating hoops at his ankles and free wrist. Michaelmas thought of the acrobat now, seeing him with the face of Douglas Campion.

“Voila Hanrassy.”

The plane slid along. “What is it, Domino?” Michaelmas palmed the bones of his face. His fingertips massaged his eyes. His thumbs pressed into his ears, trying to break some of the blockage in his eustachian tubes.

“She’s placed a call to Allen Shell. She wants a scenario for telemetry- and voice-communication skewing in Norwood’s shuttle.”

“Ah.” Shell was at MIT’s Research Laboratory of Electronics. “How soon does she want it?”