Meantime, Preacher Brawley took Priscilla aside and told her he understood she didn’t have quite the position she’d hoped for. “But Jake has told me about you. Just be patient, Priscilla. Your day is coming.”
Jake had gone missing.
They spent the next several days on the Wheel, sightseeing, hitting the restaurants and gift shops, and touring the launch bay. When the Exeter arrived on Christmas Eve, carrying tourists who’d been looking at one of the monuments—Priscilla was so caught up in the celebration that she didn’t pay any attention to which one it had been—they had front-row seats. Mom especially liked Skyview, and said it was the wildest place for hamburgers she’d ever seen. And, finally, it was time to go back to Princeton. Priscilla went with them.
She was still on the shuttle when Wally Brinkman called. “Congratulations,” he said. Wally had sent chocolates to her at the Starlight. “I was hoping we could get together when you get home. I’d love to see you again.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’d enjoy that.”
“How about we do dinner, then go to the Corel? They’re doing Midnight Special.” Live theater. Midnight Special had been a major hit a half century earlier. The Corel featured an amateur troupe, but they were good. “Absolutely,” she said.
* * *
TWO NIGHTS LATER they were headed for the theater, with a stopover at Maroni’s Italian Restaurant, where she treated herself to a fettuccini alfredo. Then it was off to watch the show. She’d seen Midnight Special performed when she was in college. It hadn’t exactly been the laugh riot her teacher had promised, but it was okay. Maybe, she thought as she and Wally took their seats near the front, it would work a bit better tonight.
One of the lead characters, Mark Klaybold, is a public relations guy who takes special pride in his ability to create markets for worthless products. He generally has his way with women until he meets Amanda, with whom he falls in love. Amanda, however, finds it impossible to take him seriously as anything other than a scam artist. “The world is all about perception,” Mark tells her when they first meet. “If you can get people to believe something, anything, that makes it true.”
They were only a few minutes into the first act, though, when her mind began wandering. How long would it take her to get a serious position? Could she talk her way into the Academy Project within the next year or so? Occasionally, she tuned the show back in, laughed at Mark’s fumbling efforts to persuade Amanda he sincerely loved her. That she could trust him not to lie.
Despite everything, Mark was a likable character, a charmer, good-looking, but constantly overreaching. Constantly in trouble. He meant well but even when he tried to be honest, communication breakdowns left him looking not only deceitful but clumsy.
* * *
THE TRADITION AT the Corel was that, after the performance, the cast lined up outside to shake hands and talk with the patrons. It was, for Priscilla, a major part of the show, meeting the people who’d been onstage. She’d envied her classmates in high school and college who’d participated in the theater programs. She would have loved to play Erica in All for Love or Maureen in Moonbase. Any of the romantic roles in the school shows. But the prospect of memorizing a part and getting out in front of the curtains without forgetting her lines and making a fool of herself overwhelmed her. No. It was never going to happen. And it never had.
So she smiled pleasantly at the director, and at each of the six actors, congratulating them and telling them how well they’d performed. From her perspective, if you got through without blowing the material, you’d done all that could be expected.
Mark had been played by a young man whose name was Calvin Hartlett. Somehow, the good looks that carried Mark to his various conquests had disappeared. He was tall, with brown hair and gray eyes. But offstage and out of the lighting, he looked rather ordinary. Maybe it was that the energy had drained out of him. He was at the end of the line, with his leading lady. Priscilla smiled at them. “Nice performance, guys.”
Hartlett looked at her oddly. “Aren’t you Priscilla Hutchins?”
“Yes,” she said.
His eyes brightened. “Princeton’s own star pilot.”
She nodded. “More or less.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Remarkably, Mark Klaybold seemed to have returned. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
“It was a solid performance.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I hope you come back to see us.” He glanced at Wally, and she knew she’d hear from him again.
* * *
IN THE MORNING, she’d finished breakfast and was out on her daily walk when her link chimed. It was Jake.
“The man of leisure,” she said. “Where are you now?”
“In the Blue Ridge. Not far from Roanoke.”
“Nice country.”
“You looked good at the ceremony.”
“Thanks. I wish you’d stayed around.”
“That was your party, babe.”
“You should have been part of it.”
“Thanks. I was.”
She was going to ask when he’d gotten home, but she didn’t want to go plunging off into small talk. “Jake, is there anything I can do for you?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t need anything. As far as the WSA is concerned, I’ve gone away, never again to be heard from. And good riddance.”
“I wanted to thank you for going out of your way for me with Frank.”
“Irasco? What do you mean?”
“You apparently said some pretty nice things about me.”
“I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true.”
“Whatever. Anyway, I appreciate it. I’m working for him now.”
“So I heard. I think, Priscilla, you just need to be patient. I know you’re probably not very excited about sitting behind a desk, but just stay with it. You’re a damned good pilot, and I’d trust you to take me anywhere.”
* * *
CALVIN HARTLETT DIDN’T disappoint her. “Is this Priscilla?” he asked when she picked up. “We didn’t really have much of a chance to talk last night. I’d love to get to know you better. We’re off this evening. I know it’s short notice, but it’s the only night I’m free all week. And I suspect you won’t be in town long. I was hoping you’d let me take you to dinner.”
* * *
PRISCILLA’S JOURNAL
No sign yet of Monika going after Kosmik. All that talk about taking a stand.
Headed for the high country. I get the leading man. And an unbridled vote of confidence from Jake. When I started my qualification flight a couple of months ago, Harry Everett had been my instructor. But he got ill during the first week and had to be replaced by Jake. Jake showed up, and his first comment was whether my piloting skills had brought Harry down. It was supposed to be a joke, but I was in a sensitive place and took him seriously. I thought he’d seen something in my record he hadn’t liked, or someone had said something to him. It was one of the most unsettling moments in my life. Tonight, though, I feel like that Amazon on the HV show.