Trouble in Warp Space (5 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: Trouble in Warp Space
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“This is the first thing we’ve seen that couldn’t be just bad luck or a mistake,” Frank said. “I’m not a big believer in coincidence, though.”

“Me neither,” Chet said. “The incidents sure are piling up.”

“But why would anyone want to frighten
us?
” Iola asked.

Joe shrugged. “I’m going outside to have a look around.”

“I’ll go with you,” Iola added.

“Good idea,” Frank said. “We’ll check the trailer for clues.”

Joe and Iola walked around the trailer and the surrounding area while Frank and Chet searched inside. Joe and Iola looked for suspicious characters, talked with security guards, and looked into trash cans. After half an hour Joe and his girlfriend returned.

“The figurine and the ketchup bottle are the only clues we could find in the trailer,” Frank said.

“We talked to a few security guards,” Joe said. “They said most of the show’s cast had been in and out this evening, which leaves us a very broad suspect list.”

“I found a packing knife in a trash can near the cafeteria,” Iola said, holding out a small, yellow-handled knife. “Maybe it was used to slash the pillow.”

Frank sighed and shook his head. “Maybe, but it could just be one from a studio worker. Short of fingerprinting the cast, we’ve hit a dead end.”

“I think Ramon Torres did this,” Chet said. “He seemed pretty ticked when I got to play the Slayer from Sirius.”

“But he’s had a number of parts on the show,” Iola said. “Why would losing this one upset him so much?”

“Maybe he saw it as his big break,” Chet suggested. “The Slayer is a very popular character.”

“For an alien whose face is never seen,” Joe added.

“It’s pointless to speculate without more information,” Frank said. “Let’s turn in. You Mortons have an early call tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I
can
sleep after all this,” Iola said.

“Just think of your brother’s snoring as a lullaby,” Joe said, grinning.

“Big help you are, Joe Hardy!” Iola said, shutting the door to her bedroom.

•  •  •  

It seemed only moments later that someone was pounding on their door.

“Makeup call!” Marge Nelson called from outside. “Roll out and hit the chairs!”

“Four
A.M.
already?” Chet groaned. He staggered to his feet and opened the small bedroom door.

“Shake a leg, big brother,” Iola said. She stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed and drying her hair with a towel.

“Ugh,” Joe said, sitting up. “How can you be so awake this early?”

Iola shrugged cheerfully. “I told you I probably wouldn’t sleep very much. So, I decided to put my time to good use. Are you boys going to sleep in or get up?”

“I think better on a full night’s rest,” Frank said groggily. He didn’t even lift his head from the floor of the bedroom he was sharing with Joe and Chet.

“Are you alive in there?” Ms. Nelson called, still banging on the door.

“We’re coming,” Iola called back to her. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Well, hustle over to the makeup room as fast as you can,” Ms. Nelson said. “You know where it is, right?”

“Sure,” Iola replied. “We’ll be there at warp speed.”

“What do you mean, ‘we,’ Spacefleet scum,” Chet grumbled.

Iola propped her hands on her hips. “Honestly, you Slayers from Sirius are such babies!”

A little more than two hours later the Hardys rolled into the makeup studio. Stan Pekar, Marge Nelson, and two other assistants were hard at work on the actors needed for the day’s shoot, a cast that included Jerri Bell as well as Chet and Iola.

Ms. Nelson had just finished with Iola as they arrived. She dusted off Iola’s costume one final time before going to work on Chet’s Slayer outfit. Sandy O’Sullivan was hovering nearby with a stack of papers in her hand. She looked tired and nervous.

Joe and Frank walked over to Iola. “You look different today,” Joe said. Iola sported a golden uniform, and her alien makeup had changed.

“My idea,” Sandy said. “We wanted to get Iola finished today, so we changed her part. That way, she can get the acting part of her prize over and get on with enjoying the shoot.” Sandy handed some of the pages she was holding to Iola. “Sorry, there aren’t a lot of lines, but I’m sure you’ll be wonderful.”

“Thanks,” Iola said. “I’ll do my best.”

“The great thing about my part,” Chet called from across the room, “is that there are no lines.”

“Keep still,” Ms. Nelson cautioned. “We need to make sure the suit matches the shots from yesterday.”

“You look pretty nervous,” Frank said to Sandy. “Is anything wrong?”

“Just tired,” Sandy said. “I was up late working on the rewrites. The studio accountants are breathing down my neck, too.” She managed a smile. “Don’t worry, though. I can handle it.”

“Who’s getting Iola’s old part?” Joe asked.

“Ramon Torres,” Sandy said. “But do you think he’s grateful?” She shook her head and turned to Iola. “Come on, we’ve got to get you to the set. Frank and Joe, follow us. We don’t need extra people hanging around makeup.” As they left the building she added in a whisper, “Especially when Stan’s working on Jerri. Both of them are
very
particular.”

They walked the short distance from the makeup studio to the main production stage. Sandy smiled at Iola and the Hardys. “Get ready,” she said, “to enter Wonderland.”

She opened a heavy door onto the vast soundstage. Inside, the teens recognized the interior set of the
Warp Space
starship. Stagehands, grips, and gaffers bustled around, getting the sets ready for the day’s work.

“The engine room!” Iola said, her eyes lighting up.

“And just over there is the bridge,” Sandy said, pointing to the left. “And behind the engine room,
the infirmary, the shuttle bay, and a lot of other places you’ll recognize, too.”

“What set am I working on today?” Iola asked, flipping through her pages, trying to find her scene.

“The briefing room,” Sandy said. “You’ll be working with Claudia and Bruce Reid.”

“Captain Winter himself?” Iola said, beaming.

Sandy smiled. “Yes, I—Oh, no! I forgot to get Bruce today’s pages!” She looked around, almost frantically. “Here comes Claudia, ask her to help you out. I’ve got to run!” With that, Sandy dashed out the way they’d come.

Claudia Rajiv, dressed in her Commander Indira costume, walked over to the group. She seemed calm and ready to work. “Where’s Sandy going?” she asked.

“She forgot to give Captain Winter his pages,” Joe said. “She said you’d help us get set up.”

Rajiv laughed. “It’s always something around here. Follow me. I’ll give you the nickel tour. They don’t need us on the set for another half hour. If we got there now, Rich Millani would just yell at us. He’s fixing something with the electricals.”

As Claudia gave them a quick tour, the Hardys and Iola were impressed with the level of detail on the sets.

“I could almost believe I’m in the twenty-third century,” Joe said.

“Rich Millani and Stan Pekar have worked hard
on the physical effects,” Claudia Rajiv said. “Imagine what they could do if we had a real budget.”

Everywhere they went, stagehands bustled to and fro. They ran into Ramon Torres near the ship’s infirmary, but he pointedly ignored them. Rod Webb was pacing like a caged tiger, growling at anyone who got too close.

As they arrived back at the briefing room set, Rich Millani crawled out from under a control panel and dusted himself off. “I swear,” he said, “we have gremlins on this stage. The rate these wires wear out!”

“Maybe it’s rats,” Rajiv said. “This place is old enough.”

Iola made a disgusted expression. “Eew!” she said. “Please leave me my futuristic illusions!” All of them laughed, and then Millani scurried off to his next job.

Sandy returned to the set, walking behind a distinguished-looking older man with short dark hair and graying temples. “I am so sorry, Bruce,” she said. “I meant to have the pages to you earlier, but, well . . . you know how things get around here.”

“Honestly, it’s all right,” Bruce Reid said. “No need to keep apologizing. I’ve been at this a long time. A few new lines aren’t going to throw me off my game.”

“Bruce, you are almost too good to be true,” Rajiv called to him.

“So are you, Claudia,” he called back. “Who are the civilians?”

“This lovely alien creature is our contest winner, Iola Morton,” Rajiv said. “And these are her friends Frank and Joe Hardy. Her brother is around somewhere, too. He’s filling in for Peck.”

“Chet’s in makeup,” Iola said.

Bruce Reid broke into a million-dollar smile. “Pleased to meet you all,” he said. “I hope you’ll have a great visit with us here in
Warp Space.
” He shook hands with both the Hardys then took Iola’s hand and kissed it, causing her to blush.

“That’s our, Bruce,” Rajiv said. “A lady-killer on any planet.”

Just then Rod Webb bustled onto the set, a sheaf of papers in one hand and a megaphone in the other. “Quiet on the set!” he called. “Places, everyone! We’ve got a lot of work to do today. Let’s get down to business.”

“Keep well behind the lights,” Sandy whispered to the Hardys. “Stay out of Rod’s sight while he’s working, and don’t talk when the cameras are rolling.” She paused, and a flash of panic washed over her features. She slapped her forehead. “Oh, no! I still have Geoff’s pages, too! Where is my brain today?” Raising her voice she called, “Rod, I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time,” Webb said. “We’ve got plenty to keep us busy.”

Sandy hurried off again, and the Hardys retreated
as the big lights surrounding the set snapped on.

Webb worked quickly and efficiently with the actors. Iola completed her briefing room sequence with Captain Winter, then got to do a walk-by in a corridor scene between Winter and Ensign Allura. The crew moved the cameras from one set to the next as they completed each scene.

Chet, partially costumed, popped in several times during the shooting, but he never stayed long. “They keep postponing finishing my makeup,” he explained. “I guess they’ve got other scenes to complete before mine.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Frank asked.

“Tour the sets, visit the cafeteria,” Chet said.

“I’ll join you,” Frank said. “Coming, Joe?”

The younger Hardy shook his head. “I’ll wait and ‘do lunch’ with Iola,” he replied.

When Frank and Chet got back, Iola and the others were still working. Chet went back to makeup and Frank rejoined his brother, watching the shoot.

The cast and crew only stopped for lunch.

They’d just finished setting up a shot in the ship’s shuttle bay, when Chet arrived in full makeup with script in hand.

“It took you long enough,” Iola whispered. “You missed all my scenes.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I kept getting bumped,” Chet said. “I poked my head in when Pekar wasn’t
strapping me into this suit. Hey, I even signed a few autographs for a tour group.”

The director spotted Chet and said, “Ah! Our man from Sirius is here, just in time. Now we can finally get down to business. Do you have your lines memorized?” Before Chet could answer, Webb continued joking. “What? You have no lines? We’re all set then! Put on your helmet and find your mark.”

“Right, chief,” Chet said, and donned the Slayer’s helmet.

As he did so, a tall, buff man in a blue uniform pushed his way past the cameras. “Sorry I’m late,” the man said, “but Sandy didn’t get my pages to me until fifteen minutes ago.”

Chet looked around to see who was talking, but the Slayer helmet obscured his view. As he turned, he nearly tripped the newcomer.

“Watch where you’re going, extra!” the man said. He shoved Chet aside and walked on to the set. “Where do you want me?” he asked.

“Just outside the hangar door, Geoff,” Webb called. The director was perched atop a crane to get a high-angle shot for the scene. “You’re coming into the bay just as the Slayer sneaks off the shuttle. We’ll work the rest of the characters into the scene after that.”

“Check,” said the muscular man with short blond hair.

“That’s Geoff Gross,” Iola whispered to the others. “He’s the hotheaded Lieutenant Commander Ravenscroft.”

“He seems pretty hotheaded in real life, too,” Joe whispered back.

“Quiet on the set!” Webb called. “Places, everyone! Roll cameras! Action!”

In the first take, Chet stalked out of the hijacked shuttle. They did a close-up of the Slayer, then they shot Lieutenant Commander Ravenscroft entering the bay.

“Great Bird of the Galaxy!” Ravenscroft exclaimed upon seeing the Slayer. He ran forward to engage the enemy. Chet drew the Slayer’s ray blaster and pointed it at the Spacefleet officer.

Ravenscroft charged, but Chet threw him aside. The Slayer pointed the gun at the fallen commander and pulled the trigger.

Sparks flew from the blaster, and smoke shot from the weapon’s sleek, futuristic barrel. Before Chet could react, the gun exploded.

6 Blaster Blastoff

Smoke and sparks enveloped Chet’s hand. The muzzle of the weapon shattered, spraying the air with plastic shrapnel. A few splinters hit Geoff Gross, others bounced off Chet’s helmet and costume. Chet yelped and dropped the blaster as the rest of it caught fire.

“Cut!” Webb yelled. “Cut!” A stagehand ran forward and shot a fire extinguisher at the smoking weapon. Frank and Joe grabbed a towel from the back of a chair and smothered what little remained.

Geoff Gross spun on the startled Chet. “What are you doing?” he screamed. “I could have been scarred for life! Are you stupid or what?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Chet protested.

Gross turned to Webb. “Amateurs are always trouble on the set!”

“Actually,” Rajiv said, “he’s done very well.”

“His sister was terrific in her scenes this morning,” Reid added.

“There’s no way Chet could have caused that blaster to blow up deliberately,” Frank said. “It was a freak accident, that’s all.”

“Why would I burn my own hand?” Chet asked, recovered enough to be angry at the accusation.

Iola looked at her brother with concern. “How bad is it?” she asked.

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