"We've got to follow it just the way we learned it," Boo-Boo said, apologetically.
"Bummer."
The others ranged from fearful to openly admiring. Liz was pleased and embarrassed by the fact that the Guitarchangel was one of the latter. He wanted to know all about it.
"Would you like to sit down some time and have a talk?" he asked eagerly. "About the parts you can talk about, that is." From his careful phrasing Liz understood that he did know something about real magic. He regarded her with shining eyes.
"I would love to," she said, feeling as though she could purr, in spite of the danger of the situation, "but right now we must concentrate on Fionna. Now that we know who is at the bottom of these attacks, I think we can work with her and solve the problem."
"Who?" Fionna demanded.
"It's Ms. Robbie," Boo-Boo said. "She's the source of the disruption. She doesn't mean to be, but she is. Liz and I intend to go up and have a little talk with her."
"That bitch?" Nigel Peters asked, in surprise, walking up onto the stage. "I fired her."
Liz and Boo-Boo shared a brief, horrified glance. "That was not a good idea," Boo-Boo said. The two agents hurried out, heading for the control room.
Nigel Peters looked around at the circle of shocked faces, then at the ruin of the burned poster on the ground. "Say, what just went on down here?"
"What happened?" Nigel asked, jogging to keep up with the two agents.
"You must be the only one who didn't see it," Boo-Boo said, over his shoulder, his pleasant face perfectly serious for once. "In a way, you're the one who lit the match. Y'all have just been treated to an exhibition of a sorta grownup poltergeist. Ms. Robbie's too afraid of Ms. Fionna to snap back at her in person the way she'd like to, so she's been manifesting it in a different way."
"Let's just hope she won't go up like a rocket now that there's nothing left for her to lose," Liz said. Fear was closing in like a cold hand clenching her stomach.
Her dread was justified. The special effects station was empty.
"Where is she?" Liz asked. The technical director, Gary Lowe, had half a dozen people with clipboards around him. He glanced up, then back at his notes. He had to try to rearrange the show without special effects, with only three hours to go.
Sheila Parker detached herself from the group to come over to them, looking apologetic for her previous smirk.
"Gone," Sheila said.
"When?" Liz demanded.
"Almost right away. After Fionna left, Nigel stayed here," she said, with a guilty glance at the manager. "He pulled Robbie over into a corner so the rest of us couldn't hear, but we all knew what was coming. She was pale as a ghost. The conversation started out quiet, anyhow. Then the two of them started screaming at each other. Gary said something like, hey look down there! We all started watching the stuff going on on stage. I kind of got distracted," Sheila added, embarrassed, "but I heard Nigel say, you're fired. Robbie was crying. As soon as he stamped out of here, she took off. Was any of that stuff real?" Sheila asked, with interest, looking from her to Boo-Boo. "We were trying to guess how it was done. It was really cool."
"This is a disaster," Liz said, turning to the others. "If she had stayed we could have contained her. Now she's on the loose."
"Sorry," Nigel said. "I didn't know. I believe, you know that, but Robbie Unterburger, of all people! Who'd figure a sad creature like her for a sorceress or a telekinetic? She was screwing up so much I thought it'd be less trouble if she was gone."
The agents looked at one another.
"We'd better find her," Boo-Boo said. Leaving Nigel Peters fretting, they made for the exit.
Chapter 14
"Where are you going?" Lowe asked Ken Lewis. The lighting director had risen from his station and was heading for the door of the control room. "We've got to keep on with this miserable rehearsal."
"I've got to make a call," Ken said, very casually. He didn't even bother to take his headset off, just unplugged it from the console. "Family emergency."
Lowe narrowed an eye at him. "You'd better not be calling the press," he said.
Ken held up his hand in a Boy Scout pledge. "I solemnly swear this is not going to be a call to a reporter or anyone who will call one."
"All right, then," Lowe said, not mollified. "Hurry up and get back—"
Ken didn't wait to hear the rest of Lowe's speech. Keeping an eye on the tiny screen of his cell telephone, he walked until he got an indication for a clear signal. Hitting the memory redial, he fidgeted uncomfortably until the call was answered on the other end.
"SATN-TV," the voice of the receptionist said brightly.
"I've got to talk with Mr. Kingston," Ken said. He drummed his fingers on the wall, then glanced around to make sure no one was overhearing him. "Mr. Kingston, we have a problem."
Augustus Kingston listened intently. His mystery employee had been channeling the energy SATN was sending via satellite transmission lines through their conduit to see the results. They'd been spectacular, but not exactly what they wanted. "I was just trying a few little tricks during the rehearsal, to make sure it would all work tonight, and the girl went out of control. She was too nervous, and there were other things going on..."
"Cut to the chase, young man or young woman, whatever you are. Let's hear the worst."
Ken chose his words carefully. He didn't want to explain the love triangle. He knew that the boss he'd never met wouldn't care about the emotional entanglement or the jealousy.
In retrospect, once he'd become aware of those issues, maybe he should have realized Robbie Unterburger hadn't been the best choice for the job. It had been just too tempting to take advantage of such a natural magical channel. She'd responded so well when not under personal attack, but the moment she drew attention to herself, she became flustered, and hit out with everything she had, including SATN's precious power storage. Ken had been lazy, and he was paying for it.
"... Between one thing and another, it was more than I should have made her handle before the big moment."
"Well, what's done is done," Kingston said, calmly. "There's not much time left. My, er, friend assured me you could handle the job. There's a lot riding on it. Bring that girl back and make this work."
"She's split," Ken said, sullenly. "She's vanished into the city."
"You find her and bring her back. I thought you had a leash on her."
"I do," Ken said, sullenly. He wasn't used to having his competence questioned, but he had to admit Kingston had reason to be upset. "I have a tracer that picks up the energy she emits. It's an electronic dowser." He took the device out of his pocket. It looked high tech except for the Y-shaped piece of wood attached to the top. He'd made it himself. New technology, not like his dad's old means of water-witching with a plain hazel switch.
"Well, I don't care if it's a sign that says `You are here.' Use it. A lot depends on this working out right. Go on! Go get her!"
"What about those agents?" Ken asked.
"That matter's taken care of," Kingston said. "Didn't I tell you? Now, call me when everything's back in place." There was a click at the far end as the other man hung up.
Irritated, Ken switched off his phone. He looked back toward the control room, then past it to the door of the press box where the transmission lines into which he'd tapped ran into the building. His connections were still open. He ought to close them, or the evil power transmitted from SATN that acted as a catalyst for Robbie's outbursts would continue to leak into the arena like gas. Little might be left over for the concert itself. The event was still hours away. Torn, he wondered whether he should go back or head out after Robbie. Suddenly, he heard the control room door open, and footsteps clap on the concrete walkway.