Trouble in Warp Space (6 page)

“Just like touching a hot stove,” Chet said. “But I’ll be fine.”

Webb fumed. “Do I need to call the insurance company?” he asked. Then immediately answered his own question. “No? Good. We’re behind enough without dragging them in. Where’s Millani?”

“Right here, boss,” Rich Millani said, stepping out from the shadows behind the cameras.

“What happened here?” Webb demanded.

Millani shrugged. “Beats me. Could be about anything. Stan and I have warned you and the execs about going cheap on these props,” he said. “Something was bound to give, sooner or later.”

“I’d say a lot of things have been ‘giving’ around here lately,” Webb said.

“Look,” Millani said angrily, “you’ve got only two people doing all the on-set special-effects work—a
few more if you count Pekar’s makeup assistants. I’m handling both the props and the electrical work with a skeleton crew. If you think you can do better, you’re welcome to try. Since you started as a lowly gaffer’s assistant and worked your way up through the ranks, it’ll probably be a snap for you to fix this stuff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to work on the engine room set, or we won’t have any working display panels there tomorrow.” He stalked away.

Ramon Torres, who was waiting nearby to enter the scene, leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “That’s the
Warp Space
spirit,” he said sarcastically. “One for all—and the last one out, please shut the airlock.”

At that moment Sandy O’Sullivan returned to the set. “Hey!” she snapped. “If you don’t have anything useful to contribute, I’ll be happy to show you the door. Everyone’s working too hard to put up with your bellyaching.”

Webb nodded. “What Sandy said goes double for me,” he said. “Anyone who doesn’t want to work—and work hard—should get out. The rest of us have jobs to do, and no time for sarcastic slackers.”

Bruce Reid stepped forward. “Calm down, you two,” he said to Sandy and Webb. “Everyone’s been working all day. It’s dinner break.”

Webb paused before saying, “Yeah, dinner break. Come back prepared to work.”

The cast and crew grumbled their assent. Then they took off for the commissary. As they all left, Jerri Bell sauntered in. “Are you ready for me yet?” she asked, looking amazingly fresh and ready to go.

“It’s dinner break,” Sandy said.

Bell checked her watch. “I was hoping to get out on time tonight.”

“Well, you’ll just have to choose between your social life and your job,” Webb called back as he left the set.

Bell frowned. “Well, when you need me, I’ll be in my trailer.”

“Why not join us for dinner?” Chet suggested.

She smiled slightly. “Sorry. Maybe some other time.”

“What about you, Sandy and Claudia?” Iola asked.

“Sorry,” Claudia Rajiv said. “I can’t. I have some calls to make.”

“And I have rewrites,” Sandy said. “Have a good time, though.” She tucked some papers under her arm and scurried off.

After Sandy was out of earshot, Claudia said, “Jerri and I are planning to go dancing after we wrap tonight. You could come with us.”

“Sounds great,” Chet said.

“Don’t you have an early makeup call again tomorrow?” Iola asked, looking from her brother to Claudia.

“I’m used to no sleep,” Claudia said.

“How can I pass up an opportunity to go out with two starlets?” Chet asked.

The Hardys and Iola laughed.

Claudia smiled. “We’ll hook up after our last shots, then,” she said, and headed for her trailer.

The Hardys and the Mortons went to the commissary and found a deserted corner. Only the
Warp Space
people were left on the lot.

“Well,” Frank said, sipping his chocolate shake, “another accident.”

“Another accident connected to me and Iola,” Chet added.

“If I didn’t know better,” Iola said, “I’d think someone was out to get us.”

“It’s not just you,” Joe said. “Both director Webb and Rich Millani complained about things breaking down.”

“We were really lucky my ray gun didn’t hurt anyone,” Chet said.

“I’m surprised there’s so much tension on the set,” Iola said. “I knew that work on TV was tough, but I didn’t imagine all this pressure.”

“I don’t know,” Chet said around a mouthful of burger. “I’m having fun.”

“Honestly, Chet,” Iola said, “you’re the only person I know who could have a ray gun blow up in his hand and enjoy it.”

Chet shrugged and took another bite. “I’m just easygoing, I guess.”

“Well,” Frank said, “easygoing or not, I think we all need to keep our eyes peeled. Chet could have been injured today, and Iola was nearly hurt yesterday.”

“And Peck Wilson is still in the hospital,” Joe added. “Maybe this is just normal TV chaos, but we need to stay on our toes.”

They all nodded, finished their dinners, and hiked back to the set.

Rod Webb picked up the scene where they’d left off. Rich Millani had dug up another blaster and personally tested it several times to make sure nothing would go wrong. Despite the new precautions, Geoff Gross still scowled at Chet between takes.

Chet and Gross ran through the scene again, and this time it went without a hitch. The Slayer zapped Lieutenant Commander Ravenscroft, and the brave Spacefleet officer managed to escape certain death only when Ensign Allura, Commander Indira, and Captain Winter put in a timely appearance.

Knowing that discretion was the better part of valor, the Slayer escaped from the shuttle bay, jamming the door so the crew couldn’t follow him. By the time the heroes got the door open, their foe had hidden himself in the bowels of the ship.

Just before eleven, Webb yelled, “That’s a wrap! Good job. See you bright and early, people.”

The cast and crew let out a collective sigh of
relief. Quickly, everyone packed up and headed for their respective homes. Chet, Jerri Bell, and some of the other cast members headed back to Stan Pekar’s studio to have their special makeup removed.

Sandy O’Sullivan, obviously bushed and ready for bed, walked over to where Iola, the Hardys, and Claudia Rajiv were waiting for Chet. “Well, I hope you all had a good first day on the lot,” she said.

“Boy, things sure went slowly,” Iola said. She had gotten out of her costume and makeup while Chet was working.

“Nine pages is a lot for one day,” Sandy replied, “especially when you have action scenes. Another good day tomorrow and maybe the accountants will stop breathing down our necks. In any case, I’m glad that we got your scene in, Iola. You can relax from here on out.”

“I won’t be able to relax until my brother has his fifteen minutes of fame,” Iola said jokingly.

Sandy chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peck will be out of the hospital in the next day or two.”

“He’s doing better, then?” Joe asked.

“Yes, much better,” Sandy said. “Good thing he’s got leather lungs and an iron head, even out of costume.”

“Yeah,” Frank said, “he was pretty lucky, considering.”

“Lucky that you two were around when he got
careless, anyway,” Sandy said. “Well, I’ve got to run. More rewrites tonight and an early call tomorrow.”

“You’re working more tonight?” Iola asked.

“A writer-producer’s work is never done,” Sandy said. “Have a good night, and I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Claudia. Make sure you get some sleep.”

“No worries, boss,” Claudia said.

Sandy turned and left, quickly disappearing into the darkened soundstage. Claudia Rajiv smiled. “Let’s collect our friends and hit the dance floor.”

They agreed to meet at the Mortons’ trailer once everyone had showered and changed. Jerri and Claudia arrived surprisingly quickly. Both women looked stunning.

“I am
so
jealous!” Iola whispered to Joe.

“No need to be,” he whispered back. “You’re every bit as beautiful as they are.” He gave her a reassuring hug.

“So, let’s hit Club 451,” Claudia said.

“Um, I hate to tell you,” Chet said, “but we’re all underage.”

“That’s okay,” Claudia replied. “So’s Jerri. Club 451 is a restaurant that just happens to have a great dance floor.”

“The food is good, too,” Jerri said.

Chet smiled. “We’re there!”

They convoyed to the restaurant parking lot in their respective cars. The trip took ten minutes,
and Claudia had called ahead to get them a table.

“Not that we’ll be sitting much,” she said with a wink.

Club 451 was a combination restaurant and discotheque with a techno motif. Its patrons included the young professionals of many of Jewel Ridge’s high-tech firms. The restaurant and dance floor were still crowded when the Hardys and their friends arrived.

Techno music blared over the loudspeakers, and flashing lights turned the dancers into a series of multicolored snapshots. Tables on a raised platform circled the dance floor in the middle of the restaurant. The Hardys and their friends took a table opposite the main entrance. Even before Chet had a chance to order food, Claudia and Jerri hauled him onto the dance floor.

Frank and Joe chuckled.

“If you think that’s funny, Joe Hardy,” Iola said, “let’s see how well you rock ’n’ roll.” She grabbed Joe’s hand, and soon the two of them were dancing amid the noise and pulsing lights.

Frank took a long, deep breath and looked around. Club 451 wasn’t the kind of place he’d have chosen to relax after two difficult, puzzling days. But it seemed to be working for Chet, Iola, and the others. “Guess I’m not TV star material,” Frank said to no one in particular.

His gaze shifted across the crowd of dancers to
the rows of restaurant tables beyond the sunken dance floor. People walking around the dimly lit restaurant paused to watch Claudia and Jerri. Even on the crowded dance floor, the
Warp Space
women stood out like stars in a dark sky.

Most of the club’s patrons paused to watch the women only a moment or two, but one patron’s gaze lingered longer. The figure caught Frank’s attention when he nearly knocked over a waitress carrying a rack of trays. He was a thin wiry man, but the flashing lights and shadows effectively hid his face. At the commotion, the figure slipped back behind a decorative column at the edge of the dance floor.

Frank peered into the darkness as the figure reappeared. He couldn’t make out the man’s features, but he watched as he moved around the room. When Chet and the girls moved, the shadowed man moved as well. When they stopped, the man stopped. When they left the dance floor and ordered sodas at the bar, the man took up a position nearby, well out of the lights.

All of them returned to the table. Frank ordered soft drinks for Joe, Iola, and himself.

“Where’d you go?” Jerri Bell asked Frank. “We needed another dancer on the floor.”

“I left my dancing shoes at home,” Frank said.

“Along with his girlfriend,” Chet added.

They all laughed. The waitress brought their
sodas, and Chet ordered some buffalo wings.

Jerri brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Well,” she said, “after all that dancing, I need to fix my makeup.”

“Me, too,” Claudia agreed.

“And me,” Iola said. She gave Joe a quick kiss on the cheek. “Be right back.”

As the three young women headed for the lounge, Frank spotted the lurking figure still following them as they moved across the room.

Seeing the expression on his brother’s face, Joe asked, “What’s up?”

“Remember when I thought I saw someone sneaking away from the camp yesterday?” Frank said.

“Yeah,” Joe replied.

“Well, I may not have seen anyone then,” Frank said, “but at the moment I’m dead sure someone is stalking Claudia, Jerri, and Iola.”

Joe’s face turned red with anger, but he didn’t say anything. Frank indicated where to look with a slight movement of his head. Joe and Chet glanced in that direction and saw the man moving stealthily through the shadows.

Joe rose from the table, “Stay here, Chet,” he said. “Frank and I will take care of this.”

“No way,” Chet said. “I want a piece of this guy, too.”

“If we all get up at once, he may get suspicious,” Frank said. “Besides, we need someone to keep an eye out for the girls.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chet said. “Be careful.”

Joe and Frank nodded. “I’ll go first,” Frank said. “We’ll circle around and catch this creep.”

“Check,” Joe said.

Frank got up, stretched, and headed for the bar. Joe and Chet kept an eye on the shadowy figure. The man remained near the women’s lounge, moving only when Jerri, Claudia, and Iola came out.

“He’s following them, all right,” Chet said.

“Not for long,” Joe replied as he rose from the table. He met Frank near the bar, and the two of them watched the figure as the girls returned to their table. “Follow my lead,” Joe said. Frank nodded and the two of them wound their way through the crowded darkness toward the stalker.

“A fan, you think?” Joe whispered as they crept along.

“Or it could be an old boyfriend,” Frank replied. “Or just some creep.”

They had moved to within thirty feet of the stalker when Jerri Bell suddenly turned in their direction and tried to wave them back to the table. The brothers saw from the expression on Chet’s face that he hadn’t told the others what they were up to.

The stalker suddenly moved away from the group.

“He’s onto us,” Joe said. “Flank right, I’ll go left.”

“Check,” Frank said.

He and Joe fanned out, one moving on either side of the stalker. The darkness and the flashing lights made it difficult to see, and the music made it impossible for the brothers to communicate with
each other. Still, the Hardys had a lot of experience in tracking criminals.

The stalker was clever, though. He tried to put as many people between himself and the Hardys as he could. He almost gave them the slip by cutting across a corner of the crowded dance floor. Joe kept the thin man in sight, though, and Frank angled toward Joe. Both brothers and the man they were pursuing headed for the back of the disco, toward a lighted Exit sign.

Joe and Frank arrived at the sign just as the stalker slipped out the back door. The brothers sprinted down a deserted hallway, out the door, and into an alley behind the club. As the Hardys exited, they saw a thin figure running away into the darkness. The Hardys chased after him.