Moire went back to her apartment to send another e-mail. It was still relatively early but Silky Girl as she called herself on the Net, decided the time had come to turn off her computer. She had after all been on the thing for three hours and her eyes felt sore beyond belief.
But Moire didn't want to hear the ping and see the shut down sign. Didn't want to accept the loneliness beyond the screen. What had she as an alternative except four walls and a fish dinner that took three hours to cook? "No, be positive honey. You know. Put on a happy face and all that. I'm mad for happiness me. Can't get enough of it." She gave a curious laugh and then started giggling uncontrollably. Moire scratched her pierced nose and flicked the switch. The computer died and she grabbed her coat and bag. A minute later she was on the street walking down litter-strewn alleys searching for the something that would make her feel better. She made her way past the film crew shooting their latest piece of TV trash. Fitting that it should be shot in an alley full of garbage Silky thought. Moire passed what looked like a normal warehouse from the outside. Blackened windows and a locked door stopped any passers by looking in on the events within. Inside, a band of scientists stood around a large globe six feet in diameter held in a cradle by big steel beams. "Okay. Try it now. One elderly man with a large A on his smock pocket said and held his breath as the switch on the console was thrown. For precious seconds the men waited for something magical. But the moment was lost. Nothing happened. There were a few sparks and then the room was filled with burning. "Damn. Felt sure that was it." "Um. The main circuit's blown. We're gonna have to start again from scratch guys." Mr C held his head in his hands and cursed the globe. "Bailey ain't gonna like this." The lights dimmed as the film crew worked but the director barely noticed. He was immersed in his movie. "Jim, Kelly, Paul. I want you to walk down the alley in a threatening manner. Merry. You'll be facing toward the camera." The director was looking through his viewfinder while minions milled around fetching coffees or taping down anything not already stuck solid. "Can we change this line?" Meredith queried. In this light she looked like Sharon Stone. Not in her Grace Kelly-style days of Basic Instinct but more like her straight to video days before she took to flashing on the big screen. "Sure. Dominik can you polish this up?" "What's wrong with: The tears of misfortune fall heavier than a leaden rain?" the twentysomething writer scratched his beard. "It's a TV movie Dom. Not William Blake." Hennessy nodded and took the script back to his chair, nearly blinded by the two arc lights which stood either side. Meredith never noticed him take the script. Sh e was too busy fixing her hair and trying to remember the next line. With a biro Dominik started amending the pages while the crew got on with the cur rent scene. Underneath the script he was scribbling away on his novel, The Wielder of God's Sword written in bold letters at the top of the page. Moire made her way past the lighting technicians when Kamen caught her eye. "S'cuse me miss. You wanna be in pictures?" "No. You wanna be in hospital?" she replied sarcastically and shoved through the throng. "Okay Mister Kamen. I'm ready for my close-up," Meredith wandered over and winked at the director. They started filming the last few scenes of what would be strangely billed as: The movie of the week. She hated to think what the worst movie of the week would be by compar ison. "Ragnarok, Scene 140, Take three," the clapper boy snapped his board shut and t he shoot began. At the end of the alley Max Donnolly watched the filming from his patrol car. "Hey, Dono. Don't torture yourself," Williamson shook his arm, breaking his daze. "Why'd she do it Mick? Why'd she get mixed up with that... THAT?" "Cause he' s Holl ywood and you're a doughnut merchant with a cartoon fixation. That's why. Let it go Max." "Cow," he cursed and they drove away, rubber squealing in their wake as Max hoped it would. Meredith jumped, the director shouted: Cut! and the whole camera crew sighed. "From the top!" Marshall Kamen sighed and wound his finger in a clockwise mo tion as they set-up again. "Action!" The Nothing 1 The Nothing 2 The Nothing 3 The Nothing 4 The Nothing 5 The Nothing 6The Nothing 8