Kate Wilhelm - Baby, You Were Great

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Baby, You Were Great

by Kate Wilhelm

John Lewisohn thought that if one more door slammed, or one more bell rang, or one more voice asked

if he was all right, his head would explode. Leaving his laboratories, he walked through the carpeted hall

to the elevator that slid wide to admit him noiselessly, was lowered, gently, two floors, where there were

more carpeted halls. The door he shoved open bore a neat sign, AUDITIONING STUDIO. Inside he was

waved on through the reception room by three girls who knew better than to speak to him unless he

spoke first. They were surprised to see him; it was his first visit there in seven or eight months. The

inner room where he stopped was darkened, at first glance appearing empty, revealing another occupant

only after his eyes had time to adjust to the dim lighting.

John sat in the chair next to Herb Javits, still without speaking. Herb was wearing the helmet and gazing

at a wide screen that was actually a one-way glass panel permitting him to view the audition going on in

the adjacent room. John lowered a second helmet to his head. It fit snugly and immediately made contact

with the eight prepared spots on his skull. As soon as he turned it on, the helmet itself was forgotten.

A girl had entered the other room. She was breathtakingly lovely, a long-legged honey blonde with

slanting green eyes and apricot skin. The room was furnished as a sitting room with two couches, some

chairs, end tables, and a coffee table, all tasteful and lifeless, like an ad in a furniture-trade publication.

The girl stopped at the doorway, and John felt her indecision heavily tempered with nervousness and

fear. Outwardly she appeared poised and expectant, her smooth face betraying none of the emotions. She

took a hesitant step toward the couch, and a wire showed trailing behind her. It was attached to her head.

At the same time a second door opened. A young man ran inside, slamming the door behind him; he

looked wild and frantic. The girl registered surprise, mounting nervousness; she felt behind her for the

door handle, found it and tried to open the door again. It was locked. John could hear nothing that was

being said in the room; he only felt the girl's reaction to the unexpected interruption. The wild-eyed man

was approaching her, his hands slashing through the air, his eyes darting glances all about them

constantly. Suddenly he pounced on her and pulled her to him, kissing her face and neck roughly. She

seemed paralyzed with fear for several seconds, then there was something else, a bland nothing kind of

feeling that accompanied boredom sometimes, or too complete self-assurance. As the man's hands

fastened on her blouse in the back and ripped it, she threw her arms about him, her face showing passion

that was not felt anywhere in her mind or in her blood.

"Cut!" Herb Javits said quietly.

The man stepped back from the girl and left her without a word. She looked about blankly, her blouse

torn, hanging about her hips, one shoulder strap gone. She was very beautiful. The audition manager

entered, followed by a dresser with a gown that he threw about her shoulders. She looked startled; waves

of anger mounted to fury as she was drawn from the room, leaving it empty. The two watching men

removed their helmets.

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"Fourth one so far," Herb grunted. "Sixteen yesterday; twenty the day before … all nothing." He gave

John a curious look. "What's got you stirred out of your lab?"

"Anne's had it this time," John said. "She's been on the phone all night and all morning."

"What now?"

"Those damn sharks! I told you that was too much on top of the airplane crash last week. She can't take

much more of it."

"Hold it a minute, Johnny," Herb said. "Let's finish off the next three girls and then talk." He pressed a

button on the arm of his chair and the room beyond the screen took their attention again.

This time the girl was slightly less beautiful, shorter, a dimply sort of brunette with laughing blue eyes

and an upturned nose. John liked her. He adjusted his helmet and felt with her.

She was excited; the audition always excited them. There was some fear and nervousness, not too much.

Curious about how the audition would go, probably. The wild young man ran into the room, and her face

paled. Nothing else changed. Her nervousness increased, not uncomfortably. When he grabbed her, the

only emotion she registered was the nervousness.

"Cut," Herb said.

The next girl was brunette, with gorgeously elongated legs. She was very cool, a real professional. Her

mobile face reflected the range of emotions to be expected as the scene played through again, but

nothing inside her was touched. She was a million miles away from it all.

The next one caught John with a slam. She entered the room slowly, looking about with curiosity,

nervous, as they all were. She was younger than the other girls had been, less poised. She had pale-gold

hair piled in an elaborate mound of waves on top of her head. Her eyes were brown, her skin nicely

tanned. When the man entered, her emotion changed quickly to fear, and then to terror. John didn't know

when he closed his eyes. He was the girl, filled with unspeakable terror; his heart pounded, adrenalin

pumped into his system; he wanted to scream but could not. From the dim unreachable depths of his

psyche there came something else, in waves, so mixed with terror that the two merged and became one

emotion that pulsed and throbbed and demanded. With a jerk he opened his eyes and stared at the

window. The girl had been thrown down to one of the couches, and the man was kneeling on the floor

beside her, his hands playing over her bare body, his face pressed against her skin.

"Cut!" Herb said. His voice was shaken. "Hire her," he said. The man rose, glanced at the girl, sobbing

now, and then quickly bent over and kissed her cheek. Her sobs increased. Her golden hair was down,

framing her face; she looked like a child. John tore off the helmet. He was perspiring.

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Herb got up, turned on the lights in the room, and the window blanked out, blending with the wall,

making it invisible. He didn't look at John. When he wiped his face, his hand was shaking. He rammed it

in his pocket.

"When did you start auditions like that?" John asked, after a few moments of silence.

"Couple of months ago. I told you about it. Hell, we had to, Johnny. That's the six hundred nineteenth

girl we've tried out! Six hundred nineteen! All phonies but one! Dead from the neck up. Do you have

any idea how long it was taking us to find that out? Hours for each one. Now it's a matter of minutes."

John Lewisohn sighed. He knew. He had suggested it, actually, when he had said, "Find a basic anxiety

situation for the test." He hadn't wanted to know what Herb had come up with.

He said, "Okay, but she's only a kid. What about her parents, legal rights, all that?"

"We'll fix it. Don't worry. What about Anne?"

"She's called me five times since yesterday. The sharks were too much. She wants to see us, both of us,

this afternoon."

"You're kidding! I can't leave here now!"

"Nope. Kidding I'm not. She says no plug up if we don't show. She'll take pills and sleep until we get

there."

"Good Lord! She wouldn't dare!"

"I've booked seats. We take off at twelve thirty-five." They stared at one another silently for another

moment, then Herb shrugged. He was a short man, not heavy but solid. John was over six feet, muscular,

with a temper that he knew he had to control. Others suspected that when he did let it go, there would be

bodies lying around afterward, but he controlled it.

Once it had been a physical act, an effort of body and will to master that temper; now it was done so

automatically that he couldn't recall occasions when it even threatened to flare any more.

"Look, Johnny, when we see Anne, let me handle it. Right?" Herb said. "I'll make it short."

"What are you going to do?"

"Give her an earful. If she's going to start pulling temperament on me, I'll slap her down so hard she'll

bounce a week." He grinned happily. "She's had it all her way up to now. She knew there wasn't a

replacement if she got bitchy. Let her try it now. Just let her try." Herb was pacing back and forth with

quick, jerky steps.

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John realized with a shock that he hated the stocky, red-faced man. The feeling was new, it was almost

as if he could taste the hatred he felt, and the taste was unfamiliar and pleasant.

Herb stopped pacing and stared at him for a moment. "Why'd she call you? Why does she want you

down, too? She knows you're not mixed up with this end of it."

"She knows I'm a full partner, anyway," John said.

"Yeah, but that's not it." Herb's face twisted in a grin. "She thinks you're still hot for her, doesn't she?

She knows you tumbled once, in the beginning, when you were working on her, getting the gimmick

working right." The grin reflected no humor then. "Is she right, Johnny, baby? Is that it?"

"We made a deal," John said coldly. "You run your end, I run mine. She wants me along because she

doesn't trust you, or believe anything you tell her any more. She wants a witness."

"Yeah, Johnny. But you be sure you remember our agreement." Suddenly Herb laughed. "You know

what it was like, Johnny, seeing you and her? Like a flame trying to snuggle up to an icicle."

At three-thirty they were in Anne's suite in the Skyline Hotel in Grand Bahama. Herb had a reservation

to fly back to New York on the six P.M. flight. Anne would not be off until four, so they made

themselves comfortable in her rooms and waited. Herb turned her screen on, offered a helmet to John,

who shook his head, and they both seated themselves. John watched the screen for several minutes; then

he too put on a helmet.

Anne was looking at the waves far out at sea where they were long, green, undulating; then she brought

her gaze in closer, to the blue-green and quick seas, and finally in to where they stumbled on the sand

bars, breaking into foam that looked solid enough to walk on. She was peaceful, swaying with the

motion of the boat, the sun hot on her back, the fishing rod heavy in her hands. It was like being an

indolent animal at peace with the world, at home in the world, being one with it. After a few seconds she

put down the rod and turned, looking at a tall smiling man in swimming trunks. He held out his hand and

she took it. They entered the cabin of the boat, where drinks were waiting. Her mood of serenity and

happiness ended abruptly, to be replaced by shocked disbelief and a start of fear.

"What the hell … ?" John muttered, adjusting the audio. You seldom needed audio when Anne was on.

"… Captain Brothers had to let them go. After all, they've done nothing yet …" the man was saying

soberly.

"But why do you think they'll try to rob me?"

"Who else is here with a million dollars' worth of jewels?"

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