The Spawn of Lilith by Dana Fredsti

Author:Dana Fredsti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I followed Herman Dobell out of his office to closed double doors at the furthest end of the hallway, ones with push handles. He pushed one side open and gestured gallantly with his free hand.

“After you.”

The doorway led into another hallway, this one substantially wider. There were a couple of closed doors to the left.

“Costumes and Makeup departments,” he said.

“Nice.”

There was another set of double doors at the other end. Above those doors was a carefully hand-lettered sign.

Red light means we’re filming. You should know

what that means if you’re working here.

I laughed. “Does anyone make that rookie mistake anymore?”

“Oh, sure. You’d be surprised—even when the light’s lit. Usually a PA, someone new to the business. I cut them some slack… the first time.”

Grinning, I shook my head.

“Oh, man. When I was six, Sean was working on some new pilot on the Warner Bros.’ lot. They were filming inside one of the soundstages. The gal looking after me, some poor production assistant, kept trying to tell me I had to wait until they were finished filming before I could go see him.” I gave a rueful laugh. “You try telling any six-year-old that she has to wait.”

“I see where this is going.”

“Oh, yeah. I ignored my handler and ran into the middle of what was evidently a very expensive scene to shoot. Let’s just say the director didn’t give me a pass for my age or the first time mistake.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch indeed. On the upside, I haven’t made that particular mistake again.” The sounds of hammering and power tools filtered faintly through the door. The red light was currently off. “Still working on the sets?”

“Just some last-minute touchups and adjustments. We’re pretty much on schedule to start filming next week.” He pushed the doors open and we walked onto the soundstage, dimly lit with overhead bulbs so high up that they barely cut through the shadows. The space stretched back at least a hundred yards, and about half that in width—about the size of a football field. The ceilings had to be at least forty feet high, maybe more. The word “cavernous” came to mind. A few bats would have fit right in.

“Any reason it’s so dark in here?” I asked.

“You asked about supernaturals? Rafaella—the production designer—and her crew are light sensitive.”

“Ah.” I didn’t ask what they were, but gnomes or dwarves seemed a fair guess. I heard hammering, sawing, power tools, but didn’t see anyone beyond a glimpse or two of dim figures moving in and out of the shadows.

The closest third of the soundstage belonged to part of a spacecraft. A large portion of the hull had been built, looking as though it floated in the shadows. There were ladders and stairs leading up to interior platforms. The exterior appeared to have lived a hard, rough life.

“This looks great.”

Dobell looked pleased. “Well, the set for the hero ship was actually constructed over fifteen years ago for another film. The building’s former owner kept it in decent condition and rented it out to low-budget and student projects.

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