“Requis … “
“From the Questioner.”
Her mouth dropped open. The man who had smiled uttered a brief, official chuckle, three precise ha’s. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror through the classroom door and shut her mouth. No wonder he laughed. She looked witless! Actually stupid, and when men in blue were talking at you, it was not the time to be stupid.
Summoning all available poise, she tried to draw herself up and out of character to ask, “The Questioner, gentlemen?” Try though she had, the words came out in what she thought of as Dorothy’s voice—wondering and very naive.
The fatter one said,”The Questioner, yes.” He actually grinned. “Today, girly. This morning. If you’ll call your substitute, please.”
He had just committed an incivility, calling her girly, but now probably wasn’t a good time to report him. Maybe it would be better to ignore it. Even forget it. Trying not to fumble or seem hesitant, she went to the nearest com and spoke to the panel: “Corps de ballet. Director’s office, please. Dorothy character has been called away from backstage by PC officers. Substitute needed immediately.”
“How long will it take?” the man asked.
“Once they call me back, not long,” she murmured. “One of the human alternates will have to be dressed for the part. They only use androids in emergencies.”
“You have to wait?”
“Once the orchestra starts, no character is supposed to leave the wings, sir. In case the entrance cue comes up … “ She stared at the floor, trying to keep her breathing steady. What had she done? What had someone claimed she’d done? Had Par accused her of something?
Down the hallway a door opened and Par Reznikoff came through. “That’s Madame’s deputy,” murmured Ellin, pointing. “I guess you’ll have to talk to him.”
The two men moved away from her and intercepted Par in mid-stride. Ellin couldn’t hear them from where she stood, still poised for the music. Madame’s deputy didn’t like it, whatever he was hearing. He shook off their reaching hands and came to the wings, where she was standing, pointing his finger at her and saying: “You’ll stay right where you are … “
“Reznikoff, perhaps you’d like to call the nearest PCO,” said one of the men in blue, who had followed him.
Par turned quite pale, though his mouth was still chewing at the words he hadn’t said yet. Evidently he didn’t like the idea of the Planetary Compliance Office.
“I suggest, before you say anything actionable, that you do so.” The other man in blue looked amused, which would send Par around the far turn. He began furiously punching up com numbers on the panel. Ellin caught one of the men in blue staring at her and she flushed.
“That’s all right,” he said in a calming voice. “He’ll get the word. You’re the lead in this ballet, aren’t you? The records on you said you were a dancer.”
She didn’t ask what records. She was saved from having to say anything for Par turned from the com with his jaw set and his lips pale from being pressed together. He stormed away.
“You can change your clothes now,” said the less-talkative man in blue, gesturing down the hall. “And you’ll want to bring an overnight case.”
She shifted uncertainly.
He smiled the government smile once again. “It’s all right, dear, really. There’s your replacement at the end of the hall. You’re not in any trouble. We’ll meet you at the gate.”
Both of them had been uncivil, calling her girly, calling her dear. She was not a nus, someone with No Useful Skills. She was an honorable, just as they were! She passed the substitute without a glance and went back to wardrobe in what she hoped was a dignified manner. As she removed the wig and the dress, the Dorothy thoughts and worries seemed to dissolve, leaving an aching space to be filled with some other thought or worry. It didn’t take long. As she dropped a clean runic over her head, she found plenty to worry about in being approached by PCO and requisitioned by the Questioner.
12—The Amatory Arts/What Women Want