Double Star (20 page)

           
"Heard of you? I'm one of your staunchest fans." He looked at me very closely. "But you still look like Joe Bonforte. I can't believe that you are Lorenzo."

           
"But I am."

           
"Oh, I believe it, I believe it. You know that skit where you are a tramp? First you try to milk a cow-no luck. Finally you end up eating out of the cat's dish-but even the cat pushes you away?"

           
I admitted it.

           
"I've almost worn out my spool of that. I laugh and cry at the same time."

           
"That is the idea." I hesitated, then admitted that the barnyard "Weary Willie" routine had been copied from a very great artist of another century. "But I prefer dramatic roles."

           
"Like this one?"

           
"Well-not exactly. For this role, once is quite enough. I wouldn't care for a long run."

           
"I suppose so. Well, tell Roger Clifton- No, don't tell Clifton anything. Lorenzo, I see nothing to be gained by ever telling anyone about our conversation this past hour. If you tell Clifton, even though you tell him that I said not to worry, it would just give him nerves. And he has work to do. So we keep it tight, eh?"

           
"As my emperor wishes."

           
"None of that, please. We'll keep it quiet because it's best so. Sorry I can't make a sickbed visit on Uncle Joe. Not that I could help him-although they used to think the King's Touch did marvels. So we'll say nothing and pretend that I never twigged."

           
"Yes-Wilem."

           
"I suppose you had better go now. I've kept you a very long time."

           
"Whatever you wish."

           
"I'll have Pateel go back with you-or do you know your way around? But just a moment-" He dug around in his desk, muttering to himself. "That girl must have been straightening things again. No-here it is." He hauled out a little book. "I probably won't get to see you again-so would you mind giving me your autograph before you go?"

Chapter 9

           
Rog and Bill I found chewing their nails in Bonforte's upper living room. The second I showed up Corpsman started toward me. "Where the hell have you been?"

           
"With the Emperor," I answered coldly.

           
"You've been gone five or six times as long as you should have been."

           
I did not bother to answer. Since the argument over the speech Corpsman and I had gotten along together and worked together, but it was strictly a marriage of convenience, with no love. We cooperated, but we did not really bury the hatchet-unless it was between my shoulder blades. I had made no special effort to conciliate him and saw no reason why I should-in my opinion his parents had met briefly at a masquerade ball.

           
I don't believe in rowing with other members of the company, but the only behavior Corpsman would willingly accept from me was that of a servant, hat in hand and very 'umble, sir. I would not give him that, even to keep peace. I was a professional, retained to do a very difficult professional job, and professional men do not use the back stairs; they are treated with respect.

           
So I ignored him and asked Rog, "Where's Penny?"

           
"With him. So are Dak and Do; at the moment."

           
"He's here?"

           
"Yes." Clifton hesitated. "We put him in what is supposed to be the wife's room of your bedroom suite. It was the only place where we could maintain utter privacy and still give him the care he needs. I hope you don't mind."

           
"Not at all."

           
"It won't inconvenience you. The two bedrooms are joined, you may have noticed, only through the dressing rooms, and we've shut off that door. It's soundproof."

           
"Sounds like a good arrangement. How is he?"

           
Clifton frowned. "Better, much better-on the whole. He is lucid much of the time." He hesitated. "You can go in and see him, if you like."

           
I hesitated still longer. "How soon does Dr. Capek think he will be ready to make public appearances?"

           
"It's hard to say. Before long."

           
"How long? Three or four days? A short enough time that we could cancel all appointments and just put me out of sight? Rog, I don't know just how to make this clear but, much as I would like to call on him and pay my respects, I don't think it is smart for me to see him at all until after I have made my last appearance. It might well ruin my characterization." I had made the terrible mistake of going to my father's funeral; for years thereafter when I thought of him I saw him dead in his coffin. Only very slowly did I regain the true image of him-the virile, dominant man who had reared me with a firm hand and taught me my trade. I was afraid of something like that with Bonforte; I was now impersonating a well man at the height of his powers, the way I had seen him and heard him in the many stereo records of him. I was very much afraid that if I saw him ill, the recollection of it would blur and distort my performance.

           
"I was not insisting," Clifton answered. "You know best. It's possible that we can keep from having you appear in public again, but I want to keep you standing by and ready until he is fully recovered."

           
I almost said that the Emperor wanted it done that way. But I caught myself-the shock of having the Emperor find me out had shaken me a little out of character. But the thought reminded me of unfinished business. I took out the revised cabinet list and handed it to Corpsman. "Here's the approved roster for the news services, Bill. You'll see that there is one change on it-De la Torre for Braun."

"What?"

           
"Jesus de Ia Tone for Lothar Braun. That's the way the Emperor wanted it."

           
Clifton looked astonished; Corpsman looked both astonished and angry. "What difference does that make? He's got no goddamn right to have opinions!"

           
Clifton said slowly, "Bill is fight, Chief. As a lawyer who has specialized in constitutional law I assure you that the sovereign's confirmation is purely nominal. You should not have let him make any changes."

           
I felt like shouting at them, and only the imposed calm personality of Bonforte kept me from it. I had had a hard day and, despite a brilliant performance, the inevitable disaster had overtaken me. I wanted to tell Rog that if Willem had not been a really big man, kingly in the fine sense of the word, we would all be in the soup-simply because I had not been adequately coached for the role. Instead I answered sourly, "It's done and that's that."

           
Corpsman said, "That's what you think! I gave out the correct list to the reporters two hours ago. Now you've got to go back and straighten it out. Rog, you had better call the Palace right away and-"

           
I said, "Quiet!"

           
Corpsman shut up. I went on in a lower key. "Rog, from a legal point of view, you may be right. I wouldn't know. I do know that the Emperor felt free to question the appointment of Braun. Now if either one of you wants to go to the Emperor and argue with him, that's up to you. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to get out of this anachronistic strait jacket, take my shoes off, and have a long, tall drink. Then rm going to bed."

           
"Now wait, Chief," Clifton objected. "You've got a five-minute spot on grand network to announce the new cabinet."

           
"You take it. You're first deputy in this cabinet."

           
He blinked. "All right."

           
Corpsman said insistently, "How about Braun? He was promised the job."

           
Clifton looked at him thoughtfully. "Not in any dispatch that I saw, Bill. He was simply asked if he was willing to serve, like all the others. Is that what you meant?"

           
Corpsman hesitated like an actor not quite sure of his lines. "Of course. But it amounts to a promise."

           
"Not until the public announcement is made, it doesn't."

           
"But the announcement was made, I tell you. Two hours ago."

           
"Mmm ... Bill, I'm afraid that you will have to call the boys in again and tell them that you made a mistake. Or I'll call them in and tell them that through an error a preliminary list was handed out before Mr. Bonforte had okayed it. But we've got to correct it before the grand network announcement."

           
"Do you mean to tell me you are going to let him get away with it?"

           
By "him" I think Bill meant me rather than Willem, but Rog's answer assumed the contrary. "Yes. Bill, this is no time to force a constitutional crisis. The issue isn't worth it. So will you phrase the retraction? Or shall I?"

           
Corpsman's expression reminded me of the way a cat submits to the inevitable-"just barely." He looked grim, shrugged, and said, "I'll do it. I want to be damned sure it is phrased properly, so we can salvage as much as possible out of the shambles."

           
"Thanks, Bill," Rog answered mildly.

           
Corpsman turned to leave. I called out, "Bill! As long as you are going to be talking to the news service I have another announcement for them."

           
"Huh? What are you after now?"

           
"Nothing much." The fact was I was suddenly overcome with weariness at the role and the tensions it created. "Just tell them that Mr. Bonforte has a cold and his physician has ordered him to bed for a rest. I've had a bellyful."

           
Corpsman snorted. "I think I'll make it 'pneumonia."

           
"Suit yourself."

           
When he had gone Rog turned to me and said, "Don't let it get you, Chief. In this business some days are better than others."

           
"Rog, I really am going on the sick list. You can mention it on stereo tonight."

           
"So?"

           
"I'm going to take to my bed and stay there. There is no reason at all why Bonforte can't 'have a cold' until he is ready to get back into harness himself. Every time I make an appearance it just increases the probability that somebody will spot something wrong- and every time I do make an appearance that sorehead Corpsman finds something to yap about. An artist can't do his best work with somebody continually snarling at him. So let's let it go at this and ring down the curtain."

           
"Take it easy, Chief. I'll keep Corpsman out of your hair from now on. Here we won't be in each other's laps the way we were in the ship."

           
"No, Rog, my mind is made up. Oh, I won't run out on you. I'll stay here until Mr. B. is able to see people, in case some utter emergency turns up"-I was recalling uneasily that the Emperor had told me to hang on and had assumed that I would-"but it is actually better to keep me out of sight. At the moment we have gotten away with it completely, haven't we? Oh, they know- somebody knows-that Bonforte was not the man who went through the adoption ceremony-but they don't dare raise that issue, nor could they prove it if they did. The same people may suspect that a double was used today, but they don't know, they can't be sure-because it is always possible that Bonforte recovered quickly enough to carry it off today. Right?"

           
Clifton got an odd, half-sheepish look on his face. "I'm afraid they are fairly sure you were a double, Chief."

           
"Eh?"

           
"We shaded the truth a little to keep you from being nervous. Doc Capek was certain from the time he first examined him that only a miracle could get him in shape to make the audience today. The people who dosed him would know that too."

           
I frowned. "Then you were kidding me earlier when you told me how well he was doing? How is he, Rog? Tell me the truth."

           
"I was telling you the truth that time, Chief. That's why I suggested that you see him-whereas before I was only too glad to string along with your reluctance to see him." He added, "Perhaps you had better see him, talk with him."

           
"Mmm-no." The reasons for not seeing him still applied; if I did have to make another appearance I did not want my subconscious playing me tricks. The role called for a well man. "But, Rog, everything I said applies still more emphatically on the basis of what you have just told me. If they are even reasonably sure that a double was used today, then we don't dare risk another appearance. They were caught by surprise today-or perhaps it was impossible to unmask me, under the circumstances. But it will not be later. They can rig some deadfall, some test that I can't pass- then blooey/ There goes the old ball game." I thought about it. "I had better be 'sick' as long as necessary. Bill was right; it had better be 'pneumonia.'"