Diamond Star (25 page)

"Would you like me to leave?" the unaccented Del asked.

"Sorry," Kendra said. "But, yeah, scram."

"Enjoy yourselves," Psuedo-Del said. Then he vanished.

"That was definitely weird," Talia said.

Laughing, Del said, "It's not every day I meet myself."

Kendra gave him a sultry grin. "I like the way you talk better. Especially that chime in your voice."

Del grinned and spun around with his arms extended. "I used to run and run across these plains. Come on!" Then he took off.

"Wait up!" Kendra called. She and Talia were suddenly next to him with that instantaneous jump virts allowed. As they ran, the wind streamed through their hair and "Sapphire Clouds" played:

Running through the sphere-tipped reeds
Suns like gold and amber beads
Jumping over blue-winged bees
Don't catch me, please
Running, running, running

Del stopped abruptly, on purpose, and Kendra and Talia piled into him. They collapsed into the reeds, laughing in a tangle of limbs. He filled his arms with Kendra's voluptuous body. Rolling over in the reeds, he kissed her soundly. She pulled him closer, her arms around his waist and Talia lay along their side, sliding her palm over his hips.

Del lifted his head and murmured. "I'm a lucky man today."

Talia hesitated. "I'm surprised you don't, well, you know."

He leaned over and kissed her, still holding Kendra in his arms. "Don't what, beautiful?"

"Have a girlfriend," Talia said. "The hum in the m-verse is that a Prime-Nova top gun owns you."

Del's smile vanished. No one
owned
him. He wasn't property. Ricki didn't want him, anyway; she wanted some creation Prime-Nova had concocted and called "Del Arden." They didn't have a real relationship. She kept him around for enjoyment, as if he were some sex toy.

Thinking of Ricki, however, prodded the part of Del's brain that his hormones tended to turn off. He regarded Kendra, and she looked up at him, her eyes half-closed, her soft lips inviting.

"We don't have to stay in the virt," she murmured. "My bedroom is just as comfortable. And it's real."

"I would love to," Del said. More than she knew. "But, um--"

Her eyes opened all the way. "What's wrong?"

"Uh--how old are you two?" Del asked.

Kendra caught her lower lip with her teeth. When she didn't answer, Del looked at Talia.

"I'm eighteen," Talia said. "Kendra is nineteen."

Well, damn. No matter how overprotective Del might consider their culture, he had to obey its laws. He took a breath, then lifted himself off Kendra and sat cross-legged next to her. "I wish--" His voice trailed off.

Kendra sat up, smoothing her tousled hair, and glared at Talia. "You didn't have to tell him."

"He could get in trouble," Talia said.

"You're lovely," Del said. "Both of you. I can't believe two such incredible girls want
me.
" This holo-rock thing had perks he hadn't expected, but he needed to get things straight with Ricki before he played. He might be innocent by the standards of the music industry, but he wasn't stupid. He didn't want to be on the same planet as his illustrious producer if he pissed her off.

"I just can't," he finished. "I'm really sorry."

Talia touched his cheek. "You're sweet."

Del reddened. If they did the corn-fed farm boy bit, he was going to dig under the reeds and hide. He wondered what people would think if they knew his farm grew big leathery bubbles. He had never even tasted corn.

Del stood up and offered one hand each to Kendra and Talia. "Come on. Let's go real, and I'll take you to dinner." He didn't really have the money, but he liked their company, and he didn't just want to leave things on this abrupt note.

Kendra jumped up and took his arm. "Come on, handsome." She waited while Talia took the other. "Let's go."

Talia dimpled at him. "Dinner with a famous singer. All our friends will wish it was them."

Del had his doubts about that, given how few of their friends were buying his vid, but what the hell. It would be fun.

He felt an odd pang at ending the session; it was becoming more and more difficult to leave the fantasy worlds he created.

In its seventh week on the holo-rock charts, "Sapphire Clouds" hit one hundred and twenty-two; in week nine, it was one hundred and three; in week ten it crept up to one hundred and one. That same week, "Diamond Star" entered the holo-rock chart at number three hundred and three.

Zachary stood in his office and squinted at the stats floating in the air. Even his clothes had holoscreens woven into them, mimicking the charts in miniature. The graphs constantly changed as they took new data from the mesh.

"It's not possible," he told Ricki. "We never released 'Diamond Star' as a single."

"What, you aren't happy it made the chart?" she asked. Honestly, Zachary could drive her crazy sometimes. She was standing on the other side of his glossy black desk, watching him through the graphs.

"What 'made the chart'?" He waved his hand at the holos. "It debuted at the extraordinary rank of three hundred and-gasp-three."

"Yeah, but look at 'Sapphire Clouds.' " Ricki motioned at one of the graphs. "It might crack the top one hundred next week."

"Or it might drop into oblivion. It's hardly moving."

"It's the turtle," she decided.

He peered at her through the translucent graphs. "Ricki, sweetheart, could you just for once try to make sense?"

She wondered what bee he had in his britches. "You're in a mood."

"Tackman got fined again for neuro-amps." He squinted at Del's graphs. "At least Mind Mix's chart-chess makes sense. The band comes out like a fission-fueled rocket and stays at the top."

Ricki studied the graphs floating between her and Zachary. "Do you remember that ancient fable about the race between the turtle and the rabbit? The rabbit jumped out of the starting gate and got so far ahead, it figured the turtle could never catch up. So the flipping silly rabbit took a nap. Meanwhile the turtle plodded on and won the race."

Zachary cocked an eyebrow at her. "I doubt our high-strung Mister Arden would appreciate the comparison."

Ricki wished Zachary would get over Del challenging him on that business about the accent. No, Del didn't grovel to the tech-mech king. So what? It was good for Zachary. Besides, Zachary cared more about profits than Del's moods. "If Del breaks into the top hundred, that's a great sign."

"His songs move too slowly. A bullet that boy is not."

"People need time to get used to him." Ricki thought for a moment. "We should send him on tour again. It's been a few months since his last one."

Zachary gave an incredulous laugh. "After that fiasco? You have to be kidding."

Ricki put her fists on her hips. "It wasn't a fiasco. Yeah, he plummeted at first. But he picked himself up. And he's had four months to practice since then. With some planning, he could do a good tour. We could start with smaller venues. See what happens."

Zachary glanced at the graph for "Sapphire Clouds." "He does have more staying power than a lot of new acts."

"Just wait until people
see
him. Look at the Baltimore chart." Ricki flicked a few holicons in the air, and the graph changed to one with a steeper blue line. "See? 'Sapphire Clouds' is number eight." When Zachary raised an eyebrow, she said, "Yeah, it's a little chart, but it shows what he can do. People there
know
him. Del up close and personal is strong stuff." She could attest to that far too well. He drove her crazy, never able to decide if he loved or hated her. He would say they had to talk, but if she came to his apartment, he would seduce her into the bedroom instead.

"Oh, all right," Zachary said. "Put him on tour." He smiled slightly. "That eff-you attitude of his can be entertaining when it's in his songs instead of directed at me."

Ricki smirked at him. "He says what you wish you could tell all those hightowners who piss you off."

"Someone has to deal with the investors," he grumbled. "I'm just glad I don't have to do it as often as some of the other VPs."

"Have you ever heard Del's song 'Carnelians'?"

"I don't think so. It's not on his vid, is it?"

She shook her head. "It's beautiful, at least the version I heard. But he left it off. Mac thought it was too political."

Zachary's tone sharpened. "Prime-Nova isn't a damn soapbox. Put in politics and it kills sales."

Ricki shrugged. "I can't make heads or flipping pails of the song."

"Heads or
what?
" Zachary asked, laughing. "Pails?"

"Yeah, that's right." Really, why were people always making fun of the way she talked? Her singers were the lyricists, not her. " 'Carnelians' is definitely the eff-you genre. But who is he flipping off? 'I'll never kneel beneath your hightown stare.' What does that mean?"

"Maybe he doesn't like rich people. Probably why Mac didn't want it on the vid. It might antagonize some wealthy supporter."

"I suppose." She had asked Del, but he never gave her a real answer. "He gets tight-lipped about that one." She smiled, thinking of far more entertaining things he did with those lips.

Zachary was watching her. "Don't mess with the act."

Her good mood cooled. "My personal life is my business."

"Not if it interferes with your judgment." He waved his hand through the graph, and it disappeared, replaced by a holo of Del standing frozen on a stage in Philadelphia. "Like convincing me to let him stay on the Mind Mix tour."

"I was right, wasn't I?" Ricki flicked through holos until one appeared of Del tossing his mike high in the air. He grabbed it with a flourish as it came down and wailed into it without the slightest pause in his song, while people in the audience screamed and clapped. "See? And that bit he did on the Atlantic City-Time Hour caused quite a hum." It didn't surprise her that the buzz had been more about Del's looks than his vocal cords. Women loved to watch him, and his snarling defiance appealed to the men. Del was the only one who had no clue about his smoldering sexuality. Which suited Ricki just fine.

"People like him despite the flaws in his shows," she said. "They want to hear
him.
Not razzly-dazzly whatever. Because he sings the way people used to, when all you had was your voice and a few primitive instruments."

"I suppose." Zachary didn't look convinced.

"We should release "Diamond Star" as a single." As long as she was asking for the universe, she might as well go all the way.

"Why?" He sounded genuinely curious. "It's too experimental. I'm surprised it showed up on the charts at all."

"Parts of it are strange," Ricki agreed. "But the lyrics are easier to understand. 'Diamond Star' is his most upbeat song. Nothing to upset the censors. Suppose we use the first two verses and choruses without all those weird firecracker pops. Then the morpher solos. Then jump to Del singing the end. It would cut it down to less than four minutes."

"Maybe." Zachary brought up a menu in place of the graphs, and "Diamond Star" played in a ripple of notes. The music started like an acoustic guitar, then morphed into a wave of noise that didn't match a single classical instrument. Although it all came out of Randall's stringer, it sounded like several electro-optic guitars layered together.

Del's voice caressed the song:

Angel, be my diamond star
Before my darkness goes too far
Splinter through my endless night
Lightening my darkling sight

He wailed the chorus, going up and down on the word diamond:

You're, you're, you're, you're
A diamond, a diamond, a diamond star

Then into the second verse:

Brighter than the crystal caves
Sunlight glancing on the waves
Swirling dance upon my heart
Longing while we're held apart

"See, right there," Ricki said as Del sang the chorus. "Just have his voice, Jud's cello morpher, and Anne's drums. After the chorus, play Randall's guitar solo and cut to the end."

Zachary nodded, his gaze unfocused as he listened. He flicked more holos, and the music jumped to the bridge at the end:

Take it slow, a daring chance
Swaying in a timeless dance
Shimmering radiance above
Softening this lost man's love

Then back to the chorus, Del singing "diamond star" over and over, his voice soaring with erotic purity.

"Huh," Zachary said. "I see what you mean. It might work." He regarded her. "Cut out the words crystal caves, though."

Ricki could just imagine Del's reaction to
that
idea. "I think we should leave it."

"Why? What the bloody hell is a crystal cave anyway? It makes no sense. The song won't suffer if he takes it out. He can say, I don't know, 'brighter than blistering days' or something."

Ricki almost gagged. And he thought
she
had a problem with words. "That's real poetic, Zach."

"Yeah, well, it isn't a drug reference."

"Neither is crystal caves." Before Zachary could object, she added, "We'll promote the song as marriage-proposal pop. Convince people they want to get engaged to this music. Give a diamond to the star in your life. Then you need the crystal caves. Because of course, that symbolizes the diamond ring."

"A
cave?
" Zachary gave a snort of laughter. "That's even wonkier than your argument for why Jenny Summerland shouldn't take the phrase 'let me come' out of her latest."

Ricki threw up her hands. "Zach, honestly, don't be such a flipping Puritan. She was saying 'let me come home.' Not 'let me have an orgasm.' "

"Yeah, sure." He flicked off the holo of Del. "Fine. He can keep crystal caves. Just make sure the wedding thing is clear in the ads." With a scowl, he added, "And don't tell Mister Angst Arden we're chopping it up."

Ricki shook her head. "Can't do that, Zach. His contract requires we get his okay on any substantial alterations."

"What substantial? It's the same song. Just better."

"I have to tell him. To protect ourselves."

He crossed his arms. "I don't want to hear any more of our rock Rafael's complaints."

"Hey, that's good. The Rafael of rock." Ideas jumped in Ricki's mind. "The surly angel. I can work with that."