Chapter Twenty Four

The Pinnacle City promenade was cordoned off with yellow police tape to keep people away from the crime scene, but it didn't do much good. The best view of the action was from any living room in Southern California.

Fourteen news helicopters circled over the plaza, creating gale force winds and so much noise, people on the ground could hardly hear their own thoughts. Which, in Charlie's case, wasn't such a bad thing. The more he thought about his situation, the bleaker it looked.

Alison was somewhere on the other side of the police tape, no doubt trying to put a positive spin on events for the press. By now, the reporters probably knew he was the guy who trashed the parking lot here a couple days ago. And they probably knew, or soon would, that yesterday he blew somebody up. She'd have to find a rational explanation for it all that made him look like a hero instead of a homicidal maniac.

Charlie didn't envy her the task. Then it occurred to him, as he sat on a bench, watching police officers pick through the wreckage, that pretty soon he'd have to do the same thing.

He wanted to believe that Clive Odett was responsible, but why would he send out killers dressed like aliens?

And if Charlie really saw Odett being carjacked, who was behind it and where was the superagent now?

So who else benefited from the deaths?

Jackson Burley believed the other networks were so scared of the Big Network taking off, they would resort to murder to stop Beyond the Beyond from succeeding.

Charlie would buy that theory if Beyond the Beyond was already on the air and getting big numbers. But it wasn't. The fact was, most shows fail, and he doubted the networks would start killing people until they knew if the series, and with it the upstart network, were a real threat.

So who did that leave?

Eddie Planet came immediately to mind. Charlie was trying to rethink everything from Eddie Planet's greedy perspective, when Lou LeDoux ambled up and took a seat beside him on the bench.

"I'm beginning to feel like a cop in one of those bad private eye shows," Lou said. "You know, the stupid schmuck who's always running down license plates for the hero and yelling at him for turning the city into a war zone. The cop who never gets the credit for making the bust."

"Gharlane ID'd the breast." Charlie said. "And you're afraid I'm going to take all the credit."

"I didn't say that," Lou said. "But since you brought it up, I want to you to think about the trouble you'd be in with the police if it wasn't for me running interference, at great personal risk to my own career, I might add."

"I have, and I appreciate it. The bust is all yours."

"What about the movie rights?"

"Lou, it's all yours. Domestic, foreign and home video."

"Gharlane really know his tits," Lou said. "He matched the work-up to a woman in a ten-year old strip joint calender."

"Who is it?"

"Shari Covina," Lou said dramatically.

Charlie shook his head. "Should that mean something to me?"

"It would if you ever watched Beyond the Beyond," Lou replied. "She was the original Dr. Kelvin, the lady with the computer breasts. She was also Stipe's ex-wife."

* * * * * *

Shari Covina Stipe Planet didn't go to Beyondcon, a decision she figured cost her a couple grand at least. But she couldn't afford to be seen in her Dr. Kelvin uniform, which would have revealed her bruised breast.

So she put her time at home to good use. She spent the day watching infomercials and taking copious notes.

The most popular format, from what she could see, was the fake talk show, with an unctuous host or has-been actor interviewing the huckster in front of a studio audience about his or her wonderful product or money-making scheme. All were designed to fool the brain dead viewer into thinking they were watching a real talk show, not that there was a whole lot of difference anymore.

Shari took special note of a ballsy infomercial that copied Larry King's set, and even had a Larry King look-a-like, suspenders and all, interviewing the huckster.

The other format that worked pretty well was the huckster showing off the cars, the women, and the homes he bought with all the loot he made off his product or scheme. The implication being, if you sold ceramic angels or signed up for "900 Ways to Become a 900 Number Millionaire" you could be getting laid in your Malibu estate, too. That format wouldn't fit her needs, but she studied it anyway for salesmanship pointers.

Shari saw infomercials as the future of her Beyond the Beyond merchandising empire. Coming up with the program would be easy. She'd hire a fat, black lady and make it look like Shari, Kent Steed and Guy Goddard were being interviewed by Oprah. They'd talk about how elegant Beyond the Beyond dinnerware is, how stylish their logo sunglasses are, and what a great decorator touch a cast statuette adds to any room. Maybe she'd even throw in a 900-number fans could call and test their Beyond trivia skills at six bucks a minute.

She was watching John Davidson on a Hawaii beach, quizzing some real estate huckster about his miracle scheme for "turning toxic waste dumps into quick cash!" when there was a knock at Shari's door.

She muted the TV, went to the door, and peered through the peephole, stunned to see Guy Goddard standing on her front porch in his Capt. Pierce outfit. It was easily ten years since she last saw him, and probably at least that long since he'd changed his clothes.

Shari opened the door. "Guy Goddard, I'll be damned. I was just thinking about you."

"Sorry to trouble you doctor," Captain Pierce said, "but the fate of the universe hangs in the balance."

That's when she noticed Eddie's Lexus idling in the driveway, but Eddie was nowhere to be seen.

"There's a vast, alien conspiracy to replace the Endeavor crew with evil doubles," The Captain said. "I've got their leader in the trunk. He says he's your husband."

"Uh-huh," She didn't want to say anything more substantial than a grunt until she figured out what was going on.

Shari heard the stories about Goddard, of course. That he was some kind of recluse, that on the few occasions he appeared in public, he only did so "in character." She figured it was a gimmick, and she played along with it for laughs when she last saw him, at a mall opening in El Cerrito.

Now, as he led her to the car, she gave some serious thought to the probability that Guy Goddard was insane. And if he was, how best to use this situation to her benefit.

Obviously, the conspiracy he was talking about was the revival of Beyond the Beyond with a new cast, and the alien leader he'd captured must be Eddie.

"What happens to him if he's not my husband?" she asked. She wanted to know what all her options were.

"I'll steer the ship into a black hole and shove him out an airlock."

So, Guy Goddard would kill him. That raised some interesting possibilities.

The Captain took out his key and opened the trunk, releasing a foul stench that almost made Shari vomit. She saw Eddie stuffed inside, soaked in sweat, piss and shit, wincing against the harsh sunlight.

"Thank God you're home," Eddie said. "Tell him it's me."

Shari covered her nose and mouth, and gave it some thought.

Don't worry, baby, Eddie's going to take care of you. You can be the voice of the ship's computer.

"Sweetie-pie?" Eddie urged, his voice shaky. "What are you waiting for? For God's sake, tell him who I am."

"I've never seen this man before in my life," she said.

Eddie bolted up in the trunk. "Shari, he's going to kill—"

The Captain slammed the trunk closed on Eddie's head, abruptly silencing the executive producer .

"That's what I thought," Captain Pierce said to Shari.

She nodded and backed away from the car. The Captain took a couple steps towards her.

"There is one thing that troubles me, doctor."

"What is that, sir?"

He held up a slip of paper. "Why was your address on his vehicle registration?"

Shari felt her heart pounding in her chest. You're Dr. Kelvin. What would she say?

"Captain, if he can replicate the crew of the Endeavor, how hard could it be to counterfeit a registration slip?"

"Why would he do that?" the Captain asked.

Oh shit, I don't know.

"For just this eventuality. Don't underestimate the intelligence of your adversary, Captain," she said. "You don't want to make the same mistake here that you made with the gelatin worms of Kunzel-4."

He stared at her and, for a moment, Shari was worried. Guy Goddard wasn't just insane, he was homicidal. If he thought she was part of whatever paranoid conspiracy he blamed Eddie for, then she was dead, too.

"I've missed your wisdom and sound counsel, doctor," the Captain said at last, smiling. "It's good to know that your computers are still in top shape."

Shari gave him the traditional, Snorkie salute and the parting words: "Be prosperous and multiply, Captain."

He crumpled the registration, dropped it on the ground, and got into the car.

She watched him drive off, then hurried back in the house, closing the door behind her and turning the dead-bolt.

Shari couldn't believe her incredible lucky streak. Who could have predicted that Guy Goddard would emerge from oblivion and save her the cost of a messy divorce? Now she would get everything that belonged to Eddie, free and clear. And she didn't have to do a thing for it.

With her dual inheritances, she was set for life. She was considering a quick trip to Las Vegas to see if her luck would hold, when there was a knock at the door.

Peering through the peephole, she saw her second Confederation Captain of the day.

Fans.

Her first instinct was to walk away, then her common sense got the better of her. Someone who'd go to the trouble of dressing up like that and finding out where she lived was a diehard fan. Odds were his pockets were full of wadded-up cash he was eager to spend on personalized memorabilia.

As rich as she was going to be, she was short on cash right now.

So, she put on her best smile and opened the door, noticing for the first time that the fan had a friend, a fashion nightmare in a checked jacket, yellow shirt, and gray slacks. At least they both had clear skin.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Shari Covina?" Lou asked.

"Yes," she replied, looking at Charlie. "But you can call me Doctor if you like."

"I'm Charlie Willis, a security consultant for Pinnacle Pictures."

"Interesting uniform," she said. "Does your jurisdiction extend into the galaxy as well?"

"I'm Sgt. Lou LeDoux, LAPD," Lou flashed his badge with one hand, and held out a piece of paper with the other. "We have a warrant to see your boobs."

She slammed the door, but Charlie already had his space boot in the way. He pushed the door open and saw her bolt down the entry hall.

Charlie chased after her, taking her down in a flying tackle before she reached the kitchen. She landed face-down on the hardwood floor and immediately began kicking, squirming and screaming. He straddled her waist, pulled her arms behind her back, and reached for his cuffs, but couldn't find them.

"Looking for these?" Lou leaned down and slipped the handcuffs around her wrists, effectively subduing her.

Although it had been years since Charlie was either a real or fictional police officer, old habits were hard to break. Charlie got up, embarrassed, and lifted Shari to her feet.

That's when Charlie saw the wedding photograph on the wall.

The bride in white with the plunging neckline was Shari. The groom in the powder blue tuxedo and lecherous grin was Eddie Planet.