Дэймон Найт - Orbit 11

long, gentle fade-out. fade-in scene three.

GUEST: . . . similar expectations in real life. You see, the medium’s semidocumentary method of presentation blurred the distinction between fiction and . . .

He puts his gun back in its holster, steps over the body lying in the street, and walks to the saloon. He pushes open the saloon door, goes inside, and sits down at a table already occupied by a young, pretty girl. He speaks to her.

“You can go back to your ranch, now, Miss Linda. That Crayton fella ain’t a-gonna bother you no more.”

“Oh, Sheriff. How can I ever thank you?”

“Ain’t no thanks necessary. Don’t give it another thought, hear? And don’t you fret none ‘bout it, neither. ‘Tweren’t your fault. He was no good. The whole town’s better off without him. Matter of fact, I been wantin’ to do it for a long time, now. Glad he finally gave me a reason.”

The girl looks at him, nods her head, gets up, throws her shawl over her shoulders, and starts for the door. Halfway there, she stops, runs back to the sheriff, gives him a hug and a tender kiss on the cheek, then hurries out.

The sheriff looks after her, touches his hand to his cheek, turns his back to the door, sits down at the table, and orders a beer.

show her pulling the trigger.

Bang.

one minute to air.

stand by. quiet in the studio, ready music, ready to fade-in camera one, cue music.

on the air.

cue talent, fade-in one.

“And now, brought to you direct from Radio City Music Hall in New York City, the Ed O’Hara Show with tonight’s guest stars, the comedy team of Brecher and Fultz, young singing star Diana Phillips, Jack Markas doing a scene from his new movie, and, to top it all off, those folk-singing sensations, the Last Children. Now, here he is, in person, ready two Ed O’Hara.

take two.

“Thank you, thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thank you ever so much. Stick around awhile. You’ll enjoy the show. Starting right off, let’s have a big, big O’Hara hand for the young and lovely Miss Rhythum and Blues herself, here she is, Miss Diane Phillips.”

pan in on the girl, from high up. catch a shot down the front of her dress, don’t show enough to get the blue pencils on our backs, but work mr. sunday-night-viewer up a little.

Two spotlights pick up the girl as she stands there, radiant, capturing the entire audience and holding them in her hand with her awesome stage presence. She looks out, smiles, and begins to sing. The boom mike comes in low. Her body mike, hidden in the bosom of her low-cut evening gown, picks up the soft reverberations that give her voice its husky, sex-filled quality. The cameraman swoops in and out. Adding that old artsy-craftsy touch. A little blurred focus. Some double exposure shots. Quick zoom in. All counterbalanced by a lot of side-angle and high-up stuff. And through it all, above it all, she sings.

what a performer, a real natural, too bad she’s got such a lousy voice.

DAVID: I’m sorry, Bernice, I’m having a bit of trouble hearing you. Could you speak up a little?

He is an honest, diligent, hardworking engineer, living happily with his wife and two children in a small but comfortable apartment in a middle-class, integrated, all-American neighborhood. He doesn’t smoke. Doesn’t drink. And would never take something he didn’t earn, for, above all else, he’s determined to get ahead on the merits of his own talents and his own talents only.

His wife is a senator’s daughter. At the age of fourteen, she inherited twenty million dollars from a distant uncle. She’s on a first-name basis with twelve prime ministers, eight dictators, a maharaja, the President of the United States, and a Haitian voodoo cult leader.

Join them this coming Friday night at 8 p.m. Eastern Standard Time and watch the fun as she tries to hide the fact she’s hired the entire New York Philharmonic to entertain at their daughter’s birthday party while he places the United States foreign policy in jeopardy by mistaking the Queen Mother for a cosmetics saleslady.

Don’t forget. It will all be happening right here, this coming Friday at 8 p.m. Make sure you’re here to watch it.

let’s see if we can get it right on the first take, show her pulling the trigger.

Bang.

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Now, back to our program.

run it again, i’ll dub in your voice, and we’ll hear how it sounds after we put it all together.

“Jason, I’m afraid it’s all over between us. I’ve found someone else. Someone kind, and loving and generous. Someone, in short, entirely unlike you. Now, please, let’s not make a scene. Let’s part as friends. Agreed.” She walks toward him, her hand outstretched. As she moves, the sunlight streaming through the window picks up the highlights in her gorgeous auburn hair (Lady Qairol, shade 44S). He can’t resist. And doesn’t.

He pushes her hand to one side and draws her to him, kissing her long and hard, holding her in a strong, masculine embrace. “Mirelle,” he breaths softly into her ear, “my Mirelle. Can you really leave me? Can you even think of leaving me? After all we’ve had together? After you’ve borne me a child? And what is to become of him? Of little Gaston? Eh? Have you thought of that? We were to tell him next week. Tell him that we and not Steve and Tom are his true parents. What are we to do about that? Are we to go on letting him be brought up as a homosexual in that filthy hovel where he sleeps on the floor and eats insects? I beg of you. Stay with me. Please. If not for me, if not for yourself, then for Gaston. Stay with me. Please. Please. Please.”

Mirelle disengages herself from him by shoving him roughly away. She looks at him for a moment, her breasts heaving up and down with the memory of almost-forgotten passions. She puts her hands to her face and starts to sob. “No. Oh, no. How can you do this to me? What strange, evil powers do you have over me? I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do any longer. Where to turn. You’re a wicked, sinister man, Jason, and I hope to God I never see you again.” With large, sobbing gasps, she runs crying from the room.

Jason looks after her, a sneer on his face. He suspects she’ll be back.

Tune in tomorrow, same time, same channel, and find out if he’s right.

how are we for time?

right on schedule.

The cloud comes back, and with it the sickness. Scotty holds Melissa in his arms. Rocking her gently. Back and forth. Back and forth. Until the cloud goes away. And her crying stops.

what a scene! let’s watch it again on instant replay.

The cloud comes back, and with it the sickness. Scotty holds Melissa in his arms. Rocking her gently. Back and forth. Back and forth. Until the cloud goes away. And her crying stops.

“Hellooooooooo, KIDDIES. It’s me again. Cuckoobell the clown. Here to put a little fun, fun, fun in your lives. What do you say we get right to the cartoons. Would you like that? You would? Here they are, then. To make you laugh and chuckle. Your favorite little people. Wally Walrus and Bumble-Bee Bennie. Let’s see what they’re up to today.”