“But people still got hurt … and killed.”
“And it would have been so much worse if you hadn’t suspected and put a plan in place.”
“I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” I hung my head.
David put a finger under my chin and made me face him. “That was unrealistic, and you know it. We did all right. We forged an alliance of humans and Powers, exposed a plot, and prevented a bloodbath.”
His words made me feel marginally better. I gave him a small smile. “Hey, we’re a pretty good team.”
A strange expression flickered across his face and was gone. He stepped away from me and located his tuxedo jacket. “Yes. Well, now we have to do it again. We still have the arbitration to resolve.”
Two days later we were in David’s office. I was reclining on the sofa with my high heels kicked off and my head on the arm rest while he paced and tried to figure out when to resume the arbitration. Once again events had led to a cancellation.
“I’m quite sure when we do resume Gabaldon is going to demand we be replaced,” David said. “We didn’t exactly show neutrality when we showed up the Oscars and started whaling on Alfar.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think they will. There’s a big kumbaya vibe going on right now. I think everybody looked into the abyss of war between humans and powers and took a very fast step back. Which makes it the perfect time to make a ruling in the arbitration.”
“Lovely you think so, but I don’t have a fucking clue how to resolve this,” the vampire snapped back. I knew he was pissed because he rarely cursed, and I’d never heard the f-word out of his mouth before.
“I do.”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, are you going to tell me?”
“It has always been the case that people have a right to maximize their talents and abilities when they compete in our free marketplace,” I said.
Expectant faces stared at me from all around the long oval table. McPhee looked sleepy, but there was a glint of interest and calculation in his half-lidded eyes. Barbara Gabaldon sat tensely erect. She laid a hand over Palendar’s and gave his a squeeze. The bruises on Palendar’s face had turned interesting shades of green and brown, and he sat stiffly and carefully because of his broken ribs. LeBlanc looked worried and Missy looked sulky. Brubaker and his gaggle of suits were impassive. Jeff was back in his usual seat in the back of the room, his chair pushed up against the wall. He seemed relaxed and confident. I was glad he felt that way. I was incredibly nervous.
Because David had decreed that I would offer the settlement. “So I can take the blame when it gets rejected out of hand?” I had asked that afternoon in his office.
David’s reaction had been to turn an Olympian frown on me. “No. I’m trying to show you respect and not steal your thunder. It’s a damn good solution and you thought of it; it’s an excellent solution, so you should present it.”
I pushed aside the memory, took a breath, cleared my throat, and resumed. “But that doesn’t mean that certain people should have an unfair or undue advantage over others.” Palendar stiffened. “It’s not in dispute that the Alfar are not human. They possess abilities beyond those of human beings. The ability to enter a different world that only touches ours, and which is closed to humans unless that human is brought there. The ability to do what we’ll call, for lack of a better word, magic. Tragically, we all saw that on display three nights ago at the Academy Awards.”
Palendar’s looks of outrage vanished, replaced by one of guilt, and he seemed to shrink in upon himself.
“It’s clear from the testimony that the place where the Alfar are consistently beating their human colleagues is in the casting sessions—because the Alfar actors have an advantage. An ability to cast a glamour on those around them. To be fair, I don’t think they do this deliberately or with malice aforethought. For an Alfar this power is as natural as breathing. They cannot simply turn it off. But it does give them an advantage, one which my associate and I feel is unfair.”
“So what are we talking about here?” LeBlanc interrupted. “Quotas? Parts being carved out for the humans?”
“No,” I said.
“And if you would let Ms. Ellery finish, you would have the answer,” David said, vampire snark dripping off every word. The lawyer subsided.
“It has been clearly established that the Alfar ability does not manifest on the screen. Therefore, we feel that the way to alleviate this problem, and offer a fair competition for both human and Alfar actors, is to require that all Alfar auditions be filmed or taped, and that the audition tape be reviewed outside the presence of the Alfar actor by the people who will actually be casting the movie or television show.” I folded my hands on my notes and looked from face to face. “Whether SAG chooses to institute the same rule for human actors is up to that organization, but that is the judgment and conclusion of this arbitration.”
Brubaker was nodding sagely. McPhee had a crooked smile, and he shot me a subtle thumbs-up gesture. LeBlanc and Missy and Palendar and Gabaldon had gone into a huddle, and Jeff was on his feet, giving me his thousand-watt smile. Brubaker and McPhee whispered to their clients, then McPhee rose to his feet and said, “This proposal meets with my client’s approval.”
“And mine,” Brubaker added.
Gabaldon looked up. “Ms. Ellery, might my client and I have a private conversation with you?”
“We’d like to speak privately too,” LeBlanc quickly popped up.
David and I exchanged glances and nods. David went off with LeBlanc and Missy to his office, and I took Gabaldon and Palendar into a smaller conference room. Palendar started to pace, but gave a gasp, pressed an arm against his side, and sank down into a chair.
“Ms. Ellery, if you had brought us this proposal a week ago, I would never have agreed to it,” the Alfar said. His light tenor was like a song in the room. “But after the events at the Academy Awards—” His voice broke slightly. He coughed and continued. “When I once again had control of my own mind I looked at what had happened—what I had done; what I had been forced to do—and I realized this was different only in degree then what I was doing in auditions. I hurt people who are my friends and colleagues. Who knows if they’ll ever accept me, or any of the Alfar again? Now that they’ve seen an example of our power they’ll never trust us unless we make the first move. I’d like to take this back to the other Alfar members of SAG and present your proposal. I think there will be overwhelming agreement.”
This was the longest string of words I’d ever heard out of Palendar, and I rethought my conclusion that he was stupid. This showed a lot of foresight, and a lot of class. I said as much to the Alfar actor. He gave me a sad and rather rueful little smile.
“Yes, well, but I’m not looking forward to it. Now I’m going to have to actually learn how to act.”
Chris Valada and I waited for Kerrinan in the reception area at the county jail. Through the bulletproof glass I could see the actor gathering up his possessions from the box. He was out of the orange jumpsuit, and his clothes hung on his slender frame. He had lost a lot of weight while in jail. He stuck his cell phone in his coat pocket, slipped on his Rolex watch, gathered up his keys and wallet. For a long time he stared down at the box, then he lifted out a gold wedding band and slid it on his finger. Finally he passed through the heavy doors to join us. He walked like a man carrying a heavy load.
“Your car is in impound. I’ll drive you over there,” Chris said.
“This doesn’t feel right,” was his response.
“What do you mean? Why?” his lawyer demanded.
The Alfar’s haunted eyes were locked on mine. “Because I did kill Michelle.”
“No,” I said. “You were the weapon. You’re no more to blame than a gun is to blame. It’s the person who uses the weapon, who pulls the trigger who’s guilty.”
“You’re kind to say so, but the fact remains: I killed my best friend and the love of my life. How do you live with something like that?” He gave me a wan smile. “But still, I thank you for what you did. At least I know I’m not
