UnWholly (Unwind Dystology 2)

“I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t go in right now.”

“Let me pass, or I promise you, you’ll be out of work by morning.”

His response is to stand firm and call for backup, so Roberta heads for the control booth instead.

“They claim to control the Juvenile Authority,” Risa continues. “They claim to control a lot of things. Maybe they do, and maybe they don’t, but believe me, Proactive Citizenry has no one’s interests at heart but its own.”

The shot cuts to Cam, who looks dumbfounded, or just plain dumb; then it goes back to the newsman.

“So your relationship with Camus . . .”

“Is nothing but a publicity stunt,” says Risa. “A publicity stunt carefully planned by Proactive Citizenry to help Cam be accepted and adored.”

Roberta bursts into the control booth, where an engineer works the editing bay, and the show’s producer leans back in his chair, extremely pleased. “This is mint,” he tells his engineer. “The princess of unwinding bites the disembodied hand that feeds her! It doesn’t get any better than this!”

“Stop the interview!” orders Roberta. “Stop it now, or I will hold you and your network liable for everything she says!”

The producer is unfazed. “Excuse me, who are you?”

“I’m . . . her manager, and she is not authorized to say what she’s saying.”

“Well, lady, if you don’t like what your client has to say, that’s not our problem.”

“Your viewers need to ask themselves this,” Risa says. “Who stands to benefit most from unwinding? Answer that question, and I think we’ll know who’s behind Proactive Citizenry.”

Then the security guard comes up behind Roberta and manhandles her out the door.

- - -

Roberta is relegated to the greenroom until the interview is over and they cut to commercial.

The guard, still on “intruder alert” mode, won’t let her pass. “I have orders to keep you out of the studio.”

“I am going to the restroom!”

She pushes past him and bolts for the studio door. Both Risa and Cam are gone, and the next guests are being miked.

Avoiding the guard—who Roberta knows is fully prepared to tranq her—she turns down a side hallway to the dressing rooms. Risa’s dressing room is empty, but Cam is in his. His coat and tie are strewn on the ground like he couldn’t wait to peel out of them. He sits before the vanity with his head in his hands.

“Did you hear what she said about me? Did you hear?”

“Where is she?”

“Head in the sand! Turtle in its shell! Leave me alone!”

“Focus, Cam! She was on the stage with you. Where did she go?”

“She ran. She said it was over, that she was history, and she ran down the emergency stairs.”

“She will be history when I’m through with her.”

Roberta takes the emergency stairs down. They’re on the second floor, and the only place for Risa to go is out into the parking lot, which is mostly empty at this time of night. She can’t have had more than a fifteen-second lead, but she’s nowhere to be seen. The only person around is their driver, who leans against his limo, eating a sandwich.

“Did you see her?” Roberta asks.

“See who?” he answers.

And Roberta’s phone starts ringing like it will never stop.