Читать книгу Doom World - Henry Kuttner - Страница 3

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INTERIOR: The offices of Nine Planets Films, Inc., Hollywood on the Moon. Close shot—Day.

You can’t film Doom World,” Tony Quade said emphatically. “It just isn’t possible. I’ve read the shooting script, and all I’ve got to say is that you made a big mistake in buying the movie rights, even if you are the president of Nine Planets Films, Inc.”

Von Zorn’s small, simian face was puckered with anxiety. He scratched his toothbrush mustache and murmured, “It was a best-seller, Tony. We paid the author plenty, but if we can screen the book we’ll clean up. Otherwise we’ll drop a lot—too much.”

Tony Quade settled his large, big-boned body more comfortably in the glass-and-leather chair and shrugged.

“My tears will mingle with yours, Chief.”

“But you can film Doom World! You got those Jupiter explosion shots last year, and the comet sequences for Space Devils. There isn’t a special effect in the System you can’t handle.”

“Exploration on Pluto, though,” Quade said, frowning. “Do you know how many expeditions have died there? You can’t live on a radioactive planet.”

“The characters in Doom World did.”

“Can I help it if the author’s vacuum-minded?” Quade’s voice grew ironic. “Some dizzy scientist exposed ’em to negative radio-magnetic rays, whatever they are, and neutralized the effect of the Pluto radiations. That may sound good on paper, and it help make the book a best-seller, but you know dam well it’s sheer fantasy. Pseudo-science—rats! It’s a fairy tale.”

“So you refuse the assignment, eh?” Von Zorn said suavely, his snappy black eyes glinting. “I’d certainly hate to blacklist you in the System.”

Quade smiled thinly.

“You couldn’t blacklist me for turning down an assignment like Doom World, and you know it. How could we possibly film the picture on Pluto?”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Von Zorn said. “That’s why we own some of the sub-lunar caverns. All you have to do is build a set in one of ’em duplicating the Pluto scene. There’s no danger from radioactivity, for there won’t be any.”

“And what about the livestock? The book’s full of Plutonian animals, and they can’t live without radioactivity. Do you want me to film Doom World without the beasts?”

“Robots,” Von Zorn urged. “We’ve used artificial monsters before. You can handle ’em by radio control.”

“It must be nice to sit at a desk all day and not know anything about picture making,” Quade said impolitely. “Do you realize how complex the neural and muscular structure of Plutonian animals is? An ordinary radio control unit couldn’t handle ’em. They’d look like animated papier-mâché.”

That, unfortunately, was quite true, even when less complex animals were used. However, the artificial monsters, radio controlled, could easily be created by the biological laboratories, and were much less dangerous to handle than the authentic life-forms. Moreover, the expense involved in locating, transporting, and keeping alive such creatures as a Venusian “whip” or one of the double-headed, apelike Hyclops of Ganymede would have been prohibitive.

The public often shunned the films of Nine Planets because the life-forms used were so obviously artificial. Von Zorn was unfortunately reminded of this by Quade’s words. His face turned slightly green.

“And another thing,” he snapped. “I just got word that Gerry Carlyle’s coming back from Venus with a shipload of monsters in that blasted Ark of hers.”

Quade grinned.

“The catch-’em-alive dame?”

“Yeah. Right after we finished shooting Venus Adventure. Know what’ll happen now?”

“Sure,” Quade said, but Von Zorn kept on bitterly.

“The picture won’t draw flies! Because we used laboratory monsters, and now Gerry Carlyle’s brought back the real thing.”

“Why don’t you buy her cargo?” Quade asked.

A low, grating sound was heard as Von Zorn gritted his teeth. Eventually he found words.

“Do you think I haven’t tried? I offered her a fortune to forget her contract with the London Interplanetary Zoo and sell me the animals. Told her I could use ’em in films. Here’s her answer.” He thrust a crumpled sheet of blue paper at Quade, who smoothed it out and read it aloud with interest.

Dear Von Zorn:

Nuts.

Gerry Carlyle.

With an effort Quade kept his face sober as he handed back the message to Von Zorn.

“You don’t deserve this, Chief,” he said solicitously. “So that’s why you want Doom World filmed, eh? The most popular book in ten years, with the strangest life-forms in the System. Thought it’d draw better than Gerry’s animals?”

“Exactly! We can’t lose on this. You’ve got to take it on, Tony.”

“It’s too big a job,” Quade said seriously. “And it’s plenty dangerous. I hear some of your biggest stars have been offered the lead roles, and said no.”

Von Zorn grunted.

“Neal Baker’s got the romantic lead. The heroine—is Kathleen Gregg.”

Quade whistled under his breath.

“A star role for her, eh?”

“Thought you’d be interested. I had a sneaking hunch you’d like to see Kathleen get ahead, so I gave her the part.”

“I catch on,” Quade said. “If I turn down the job, what happens to Kathleen?”

Von Zorn tried to register regret, but succeeded only in looking like a monkey with the colic.

“Why, I’m afraid we’ll have to let her go. It’s the only part I’ve got for her just now, and if you won’t take on the picture, Kathleen’s—out!”

Quade knew what that would mean to Kathleen Gregg. She had come to Hollywood on the Moon as a stowaway, and had been fascinated by the lunar metropolis ever since. Just lately Von Zorn had given her a contract.

“I hope a meteor hits you,” Quade told his employer. “You’d blow the Earth to bits to get a hit picture. Okay, you win. I’ll film Doom World for you if it kills me—and it probably will.”

Von Zorn smirked. “Nothing pleases me as much as a spirit of willing cooperation,” he said smoothly, lighting a cigar made from greenish, aromatic lunar tobacco. “You will be well paid, Tony.”

“You’re darned right I will,” Quade observed from the door. “Wait’ll you get my expense account. I’ll put in everything from drinks to an engagement ring for Kathleen.”

“Always the joker,” Von Zorn chuckled. His grin widened as Quade, with a snort of disgust, slammed the door behind him.

The President of Nine Planets Films, Inc., pressed a button and spoke into a dictograph on his desk. Presently he said, “Thurman? Doom World’s going into immediate production. Tony Quade’s in charge. See that he gets full cooperation. He’ll need it!”