GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 45

   "Way too soon to ask me that," Truck laughed and began to shut the desk down.
   "Any sign of Hoot Gaas?" Rivqua asked, glancing towards Fishhead on the opposite side of the room, riveted to the bank of monitors.
   "Not so much as a feather," said the scaly technician. "I'd fire him if I could. But you see, I can't! He's my boss." Fishhead swiveled round, quivering in frustration. "See my problem there? And that's just one of them! Thanks a lot, Hoot!" he shouted into the air and spun right back to gaze hard at the screens. He pressed the intercom. "Ziffo, go check on the two-headed lounge lizard over by table eight. What's he got in his hand, dice?"
   "I'll check it out, sir," replied a droid-ish voice. After a few seconds the droid came back, "Looks like prayer cubes, sir."
   "Ha! Good luck with that, hypocrite," Fishhead muttered.
   "Alright, I'm done," Truck said and shook herself down, her white fur flying. "Let's call it."
   They made for the door and Rivqua told Fishhead, "I sure hope he shows up. There's some practical matters we need sorting out with him."
   "Good luck with that too," Fishhead said, eyes glued to the monitors.
   A ping and the elevator stopped on the twelfth floor. Truck and the Blonde Plutoz stepped out. A couple of giggling insectoid aliens stood there, waiting to head down. They jumped at the sight of the big snowman-woman, then laughed at their own tipsy reaction. Truck passed them without a look.
   "Did well, yous two," she said, stopping by her door.
   "And you, Truck," Rivqua smiled back at their sound technician. "Same again tomorrow, eh?"
   "In it for the long haul," Truck sighed and went in. Zana unhooked her guitar.
   "First, Fadda Bing is killed and now Hoot Gaas is gone," Rivqua said, opening their door, sounding like a hard-thinking detective, "Question is, are the two incidents connected?"
   Zana made a mock snoring noise, too tired to care, and dragged her feet inside.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 44

There's that moment at the end of a show when a kind of critical mass is reached. The audience loves the encore like crazy, is swallowed up by it like a fabulous storm roaring about their wild heads. Then the stage goes dark once again and the band disappears into the wings. And there it is, the anti-magic moment.
   It is the opposite of the magic moment at the start, that twilight pause of anticipation when all you hear is the PA hum, the tap of a drumhead in the dark, fingers settling over hot strings. Like deities seconds away from unleashing mighty revelations and the audience isn't breathing.
   Well, the revelation came and went. Over the screaming and clapping the ground still moves and the air quivers. It's slowing down though. The house lights come on, the logo glides over the drawn curtains once more and that silly music you'd forgotten existed drifts through the air again. It's over. Already? What happened? Yet it's a satisfied kind of disappointment, the anti-magic moment. Like a correct farewell.
   The audience has had its fill. Most of them anyway. The others aren't quite finished screaming. The band's done its job, topped expectations and the night moves on and dreams settle back to the mundane.
   While the stage hand contemplated all this, having witnessed it countless times, to the point where a poetic philosopher was rising within her, Rivqua and Zana were back up in the control room.
   Truck rose to greet them, taking their high-fives and offering her bottom for a customary, friendly kick.
   "First one down!" Zana beamed, "and, what is it, sixty-three to go?"

ZANA'S RENT IS DUE!

 


Zana gives a charged, emotional portrayal of the broken Mimi Marquez in the award-winning musical Rent, playing this month at Arena Satelliten in Sollentuna!

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 43

Two one-hour sets with a break in between for drinks and loo visits went by like the minutes had gone through a time-warp and shrunk. Typical for a good gig. The audience, a curious mixture of species from nearby quadrants, expressed their appreciation loudly and visibly. Most of them wore familiar tuxes and dresses. Other clothing styles were seen, including the odd exotic guest in atmospheric suit and vapour mask.
   "We have loved being here with you tonight!" said Zana as the final number vamped up. "Thank you all for coming and spending this great evening with us!"
   The first show in the Blonde Plutoz' eight week run ended on a more formal note than they were used to. But then this was Toss Vague-Ass, it was a freaking ballroom, it was off-season, and one does well not to rock the spaceship presumptiously, as Rivqua might have said.
   Rivqua did say, "Ladies and gentlemen and aliens! We sure enjoyed your company tonight! This is our last song for this evening. Drive and fly safe and come back soon to the Grand Galactica! Goodnight!"
   A nice little plug for their employer, professional generosity you might call it, and off went the closing stomper to get the chandeliers swinging good and proper. This wasn't quite an encore type of crowd, the girls reckoned five short minutes later as they took their bows and the lights dimmed.
   They reckoned wrong. The room was on its feet. The cheers and clapping amounted to thunder. This audience, for all their ballroom formality, had their hair down tonight. Follow-spots came back on. The curtains stayed open. The rectangle on the stage floor went nowhere. After another couple bows Rivqua and Zana looked at each other.
   In the wings stood the stage hand and made excited circular gestures. In their earpieces the girls heard Truck chuckle.
   "They ain't gonna let yous two go that easy. Sort it out will you, 'cause I don't know about you, but I'd kinda like to hit the sack."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 42

   "Time to get on," the stage hand said with the firmness of a preschool teacher and gave the Blonde Plutoz a little push. She checked the seconds on the video screen on her wrist. It carried the live feed from the camera in the back of the ballroom.
   The room darkened. "And here go the lights! Get ready."
   "Is there a button we're supposed to push?" Zana asked, searching.
   "No, I control it right here."
   "Could you check tomorrow's weather forecast while you're at it?"
   The stage hand laughed, eyes on her small screen. "Maybe later."
   Above their heads Metro kicked a beat into motion.
   "Here we go," Rivqua said, working herself up. The first song was a stomper. Picked heart rates up, got feet going and Metro opened it clean and hard.
   The stage hand tapped her little screen and ran off the steps like a flight controller.
   "Curtains, open. Activating lighting rig." Almost with an audible crack pulsating light kicked down through the square hole above their heads. "Prepare for launch!"
   The small platform jerked into motion and began to rise.
   "All systems go," muttered Zana and adjusted her headset. The girls exchanged silent nods, time to open the mikes up.
   "Gotcha," Truck's voice calmly confirmed in their ears. The blinding rectangle above them grew in size. The drumbeat swelled in clarity and volume. Bathed in light they approached the stage floor. For a ballroom audience in tuxes and dresses they made a surprising amount of noise out there.
   Keebo, Fuzz and Basix came in right on cue and the full intro was up and running. Rivqua and Zana rose up out of the stage, into another world, the one they knew best and loved the most.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 41

The stage hand pointed down a flight of stairs. Rivqua and Zana looked at her.
   "We're going to be in the basement?"
   She nodded, "Sure!" and started down. "This is the Grand Galactica, right? Top of the Toss Vague-Ass show line. I mean, we do 'em all here. The full spectrum of entertainment. Music shows, like you guys, are what most people think of. But we also do circus-type acts. You know, with animal creatures, the whole teeth-and-claws bit, and that requires special handling. Then there's the effects-heavy magical shows. We get the holographic dance troupes, droideville acts, you name it. All right here in this ballroom. That puts certain requirements on the facilites here."
   "Are you like a tour guide during the days too?" Zana asked as she and Rivqua followed her, hands on both railings. The steps were steep and heeled boots made them more so.
   "You guessed, huh," replied the stage hand with a laugh. They reached the basement floor. There was plenty of standing room under the stage. They passed rods and pneumatics clustered behind protective cages, the podium machineries. PA amps flickered in racks. The stage hand stopped somewhere under centre stage.
   "Stand here," she said and pointed to a square on the floor the size of a family dining table. "This'll take you up through the stage. The song starts, lights come on, and up you come out of the floor. Cool huh?" She grinned with excitement.
   Zana and Rivqua stared. Striped tape outlined the steel rectangle.
   "How fast does it rise?"
   "It's not a catapult if that's what you're thinking. You won't come flying out of the stage floor like ragdolls out of a cannon. You'll rise up nice and slow, into the lights."
   "Emerging like goddesses out of the bowels of the earth," Rivqua said.
   The stage hand clapped her hands, "I like that!" and laughed again. A true tech nerd, this one. Loved the heavy duty gadgets.

A Great One Gone

A legend passes. Rest in Peace, BB King.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 40

A ten-second walk from the dressing-room and they pulled up by the side of the stage. Zana peeked out between the drapes.
   "The curtains are drawn," she said in surprise.
   "Feels like community theatre," Rivqua said. Her eyes caught a tech's monitor showing a view of the stage from out in the ballroom. A cluster of spots streaked across the red curtains. The Grand Galactica animated logo floated about over the fabric, the letters and the tower building themselves up over and over again. Crooner music played softly under the murmur of the crowd.
   "There goes our cred," Zana said, "spinning out of the sky in flames."
   "It's the same for everybody, no matter who's on," said the stage hand, laughing. "Variety acts love the traditional build-up. Grungers and volcano bands on the other hand just pop anti-depressants. Don't worry, it's all down to what kind of entrance you make, so if the band would like to take their places, I'll show you two something cool."
   Zana told the Bandroids to start the first song after the lights go down, and vamp the intro until she and Rivqua gave the obvious cue. "And don't trip up on the way now!"
   "Forgetting we got night vision and sensors?" said Keebo as the four of them headed out onto the dark stage.
   Each of the musician's podiums were down to a couple feet off the floor. Hardly a problem to climb up on. What Truck would do with their elevation during the show, however, was anybody's guess. The abominable snowman-woman sound engineer had a flair for the unexpected. The posher the audience the more her funny-bone tickled and the Grand Galactica ballroom was somewhere close to the poshest place the Blonde Plutoz had played.
   The risk for inexplicable podium rises and lowerings was substantial.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 39

   "First, set list has been distributed to all relevant parties. Second, Hoot Gaas is not here. He is to be found absolutely nowhere. I reason therefore that his current location is too far removed to be of practical use to us here tonight."
   "Okay Keebo, thanks," Zana said and gave Rivqua a hopeless shrug. "I guess we'll just introduce ourselves then. It's not like we haven't done that before."
   Rivqua nodded. She was on the phone to the control deck. "It'll be fine, sir. Truck will bring the house lights down and we'll go in cold. With a hot number. And do an introduction after that. In the meanwhile we'll just hope Mister Gaas shows up, with his phenomenal eyesight and all. Not for the show so much. More for your peace of mind. Quite right, sir. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this. Tell Truck four minutes from now. Exactly."
   She hung up. Keebo and his three bandmates stood in the doorway. They were fully charged up, warmed up and ready to go. Zana coughed from inside a cloud of hairspray and stood up, fanning her hair, blinking some sting out. "Let's do it."
   A stage hand popped her head in from the corridor. "Nice turn-out tonight. You guys ready? Follow me. I know you know the way. I'm strictly an insurance requirement. I swear, sometimes I feel like a lifeboat on a dry lakebed."
   "Has Hoot Gaas ever disappeared like this before?" Zana asked, tuning her guitar as they walked.
   "No."
   "So we're witnessing a Grand Galactica anomaly tonight," Rivqua said.
   "Yes."
   Rivqua and Zana exchanged a glance. Zana asked, "Happen often?"
   "Anomalies? Anomaly is Toss Vague-Ass's second name."
   "Copy that."

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 38

   "Set list's on its way," said Rivqua and held the door for Zana. Truck gestured familiar disbelief and the Blonde Plutoz headed down the control deck stairs.
   "So what about Hoot Gass, eh?" Zana said.
   "Delegating duties clearly isn't his strong suit."
   "He goes off schedule for a bit and everybody panics. At least fish guy has."
   "The poor fellow can't delegate, that's the problem. He has to pass on some of the workload and trust to his staff. Like to that fish guy. What's needed is a management course. I'll slip that into the suggestion box."
   "Good idea. Ah, Keebo my lad. Come with us."
   The girls picked up their keyboard player on the way. They all popped into the dressing room. As the girls changed and got going with hair and faces they dictated a set list to the android. Keebo stood by the door, eyes to the ceiling, going, "Mhm. Mhm. Right. Good choice. Mhm. What? Haven't done that one in ages. Very well. Mhm." And so on.
   Finally Zana said, "Got that? Happy with that? Good, make sure Truck gets it asap and don't forget Metro, Basix and Fuzz. Where are they, by the way?"
   "They're working on their own set list."
   "You don't say. Well, this one supersedes theirs and you be sure to tell them."
   "With pleasure. Their set lists suck as a matter of routine."
   "And see if you can't find that Hoot Gaas guy," Rivqua told him." He's got to be somewhere nearby. He's introducing us. Fadda Bing may have died but the show must go on. Mister Gaas would stand by that sentiment, I'm pretty sure."
   "I'll ask him when I see him. Which I haven't. Okay, I'll go take a look around."
   Keebo left the girls to finish dolling up.

GALAXY TOUR ADVENTURES - "The Grand Residency" - 37

   "About the high stakes losers," Rivqua said. "The ones who might have left here with rear ends exposed on some occasion. Have any ever returned to demand a refund?"
   "Certainly! It happens all the time!" returned Fishhead, the fin on the top of his head rising like a fan. "Some even have the audacity to demand interest!"
   "Is that so?"
   "You wouldn't believe some of these low-life alien life forms. That's why we have guard bots all over the place, hidden behind wall panels and whatnot. The trouble is, whenever they activate and pull off a major intercept, with all the public raucus that goes with it, invariably it spooks the rest of the clientele. People leave and our earnings go down. Intercepts are bad for business!"
   "As are involuntary refunds," Rivqua mumbled.
   "Hoot Gaas would have none of it, I tell you!"
   Truck turned again in her chair. "Hate to break up the meetin' of minds, but you guys have a gig comin' up in the near future, like in fifteen minutes. Any thoughts on visitin' your dressin' room before goin' up? It's my understandin' you got one. Vocal warmups, maybe? I have a suggestion, a set list! Let's see, do I remember what a set list is...? Yes, it's comin' back to me." She gestured with a telling expression. "If it's not too much trouble."
   Their sound tech's ramble brought the girls over to the ballroom side of the control deck. Zana looked out the window.
   "Wow, it's filling up quick down there."
   "Aren't we lucky."
   "It's just that our audiences usually don't wear tuxes and evening dresses and sit at tables."
   "Do a royal wave between songs and they'll be eatin' our of your hand."

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   "Precisely, owl indeed!" agreed Fishhead and slapped the desk.
   "O-w-l," Rivqua spelled, lost in momentary thought.
   The guy covered in silvery scales stood up and trotted across on small powerful fins, keeping astonishing balance.
   "Come over here," he said. "Take a look at this. See down there?" He pointed through the angled glass wall on the other side of the control room. The girls took in the high view of the entire casino floor. "Anyone tries something anywhere on the floor, like switch dice, marks cards, any attempt at sleight of hand, by anyone other than the staff- that is, what I mean is, any attempt at taking a gamble while gambling so to speak - Mister Gaas would see it!"
   "But if he's absent, speaking hypothetically now," Rivqua said, "you've got all this doing most of the work for you. To make sure gambling stays all pure and wholesome." She swept her hand over the bank of screens above a mighty control desk. The high-tech surveillance system seemed to cover every table, from all angles. Streams of data flowed.
   "And if you don't mind my saying," Rivqua went on, "it seems to do a fair job of it."
   "Look, there's the gyrolette," Zana threw in.
   "Bah! This only goes so far," said Fishhead, slumping into the chair. "Even if it did it still doesn't account for the chief controller missing from his post! There is no excuse!"
   Zana looked at him. "Do you keep a record of every single play down there?"
   "From opening night," nodded Fishhead. Zana entertained a stray thought.
   He gasped. "What if something's happened to him! There have been many an upset guest over the years, let me tell you. And let me tell you this, high stakes losers forget slowly! More slowly yet when they leave here with their asses literally bare!" He slapped a fin over his mouth, mortified. "Oh my language!"
   Zana shrugged. "The trick is to know when to stop."
   "Too true, too true!" came his muffled response.