'If you're so fussed about that film,' Ben said, 'why couldn't you just ask De Sande for an invitation?'

'Something tells me De Sande isn't keen on letting his rivals see the film too early,' the Doctor said. 'Is that right?'

'Indeed,' Zane confirmed. 'No one at MGA has been able to get near it. Before tonight the security around the film was plugged tighter than Howard Hughes' wallet. But we've heard rumours. Rumours that it'll sweep the Oscars, rumours that it's using a whole new world of effects and technology. But until tonight no one apart from the guys who made the flick, De Sande's inner circle, have seen it. That's a dangerous situation to be in. Everyone hates Star Light. They've been going less than a decade yet they're already biting at the heels of the giants.

They're young punks that don't respect us, and they deserve to be taken down. I'll be honest with you, Doctor, I can think of a large amount of people that would pay dearly to see Star Light fall. They're a threat to our business, our heritage and everything we believe in. Subversive communist propaganda from punks who think they can take on the industry and win.'

'And can they?' the Doctor asked.

Zane shook his head. 'You tell me. That's the worry, though, isn't it? All Star Light's ever produced are stupid low-budget pictures and a few big sellers, but we've always seen them as being something of a passing fad. The rumours coming out about this new picture, though... It's one week away from the public premiere, and we must have the chance to prepare an announcement to coincide with its release. We must show that MGA is just as advanced and clever as our rivals. We need to know if that film really is so special that we ought to be getting worried about it.'

'Oh, it's special all right,' Ben said. 'Once it's released no one will want to see anything else, I reckon.'

Zane looked worried. 'That seems to concur with the rumours we've heard.'

'But what does that have to do with us?' the Doctor wondered.

Zane's brow was furrowed, his eyes piercing. 'I'm concerned, Doctor, and more than a little suspicious. Polly told me all about you on our last meeting. You're new in town, here to see friends more than motion picture sights, yet you're on extremely good terms with De Sande even getting invited to his preview party. I just want to know what your angle is. You three really work for Star Light, don't you? If you are new here, then why are you really in town? When I saw you coming out of De Sande's just now... it all clicked. Polly wasn't a tourist, but a disgruntled Star Light employee.'

The Doctor chuckled. 'You really don't understand, do you?

Polly doesn't work for Star Light! None of us do! De Sande just wanted to use us as test subjects to see how the film played to a sceptical audience. That's the only reason he invited us to the screening.'

Zane reached into a compartment underneath one of the seats and retrieved a large envelope which he handed to the Doctor.

The Doctor opened the envelope, took a look inside, then handed it straight back to Zane. 'It doesn't matter how much you try to pay me, I can't lie about who I am.'

Zane was clearly shocked by this reaction. 'Did you see how much was there? That's a serious amount of green, and we're prepared to pay large amounts of it for the dirt on De Sande's picture. The money there is just a starter. We're prepared to double whatever he's paying you, more if necessary, if you switch over to our company. Polly's told me that you're something of a technical genius. If it's people like you that helped De Sande's picture become a reality, then we want people like you working on our next pictures too.'

The Doctor started to get agitated. 'I don't want your money.'

Zane shook his head. 'Doctor, everyone in this town is for sale. We both know that.'

The Doctor turned away, annoyed at Zane's insistence.

'Didn't you hear me?' he grumbled. 'I don't work for De Sande.

None of us do.'

'So who do you work for?'

Ben reached over and prodded Zane in the chest. 'Listen, mate, the Doctor's told you all he knows, all right? We were only invited to see what the general public would think of it. It's a good flick but... well, you'll just have to wait till it comes out to watch it.'

Zane stared at Ben, then back at the Doctor. 'If that's true...

well just think about what I've said, OK? If you do know anything about the film...'

'Come on,' Ben sighed, 'let's get out of here.'

Ben, the Doctor and Polly got out of the car. It seemed Polly couldn't get out fast enough. Ben wondered what had caused her to seem so rattled, but decided that now was not the time to press for answers. Just as they were about to walk away Zane called them back.

'Oh, Doctor?' he said. 'You should know that people like me run this town, mister. You have my card. If you change your mind you can contact me on that number any time. And if you don't... Well, let's just say you should watch your back, if you know what I mean.'

'Thank you, Mr Zane, but I've already been given that advice once this week.'

Zane sneered at the Doctor. 'Well, maybe you should think about taking it.'

'So what do we do now?' Polly asked as she sat in the back of one of De Sande's courtesy limos with Ben and the Doctor, on their way back to the hotel.

'I'm not quite sure,' said the Doctor as he flicked through the information brochure De Sande had given him. 'Now this is interesting. This brochure consistently praises the picture yet reveals absolutely nothing about it. Nothing.'

'You're being a serious boffin about this, aren't you?' Polly said. 'Why are you getting so hung up about a simple film?'

'Because I believe that this is far more than just a simple film,' the Doctor explained. 'You saw the reaction it caused and De Sande's reluctance to provide any information only makes me more sure. There's something not quite right about that film, and I'm determined to find out what it is.'

'So what did you find out at the party?' Ben asked.

'Not much, alas. No one seems to know the full picture, so to speak. It's as if everyone involved in the production was told only what they needed to know to do their job, and that includes the contents of the script, who was working on the film and how the effects were done. No one was able to tell me anything that could explain how it was made, apart from information that could apply to a thousand other films.'

'Oh well,' said Polly, trying to cheer the Doctor up, 'you'll just have to find some people who can can tell you more.' tell you more.'

Chapter Seven.

Back in the hotel room, the Doctor had set up a crude home-projector system that he'd rented from a photography shop. He had found loading the smaller than normal reel into the projector an awkward process, but eventually this had been done and he told Ben and Polly to sit down in front of a collapsible screen he had erected against one of the walls. Once everything was ready he dimmed the lights and switched on the projector.

The image of Caleb Rochefort dressed in a torn and tattered suit appeared on the screen, an image that Ben recognised from the screening at De Sande's. Finally they had the chance to view the reel he had stolen from the party, and at last they knew that it definitely was from Dying in the Sun Dying in the Sun.

The action continued, and Caleb ran down a city street chased by a monster that was obviously just a man in a costume.

As he ran the movie's hero looked back at the demon, every so often raising an eyebrow and muttering a witty one-liner. After the monster's defeat the city scene changed to a sequence set in hell, where the hero wandered through what was obviously just a set in a studio with some painted rocks strewn around, watched by agitated-looking actors in monster costumes.

'I'm sure it was better last time,' Ben said. 'I mean, it's still good, but... you know. It's not the same, is it?'

'Maybe the excitement of being at the screening just made the experience more fun before?' Polly suggested. 'You know, crowd hysteria or whatever it's called.'

'I don't think so,' chipped in the Doctor. 'This seems to be an early cut of the film as there don't seem to be any spectacular effects whatsoever. This really is quite peculiar. Treating film is such a laborious and expensive process... almost all special effects are created live on set. The technology film-makers use just isn't advanced enough to do anything else. Yet this... it's like a rough cut of a film waiting for the effects to be added in postproduction.'

'Maybe this is a rehearsal film or something?' Ben wondered.

The Doctor didn't seem convinced. 'A first draft, you mean?

Edited together as if it was a final version? Such things have been known, I suppose. Live-action versions of the Disney animated features were filmed to provide a guide for the animators drawing the cartoons, but I've never heard of that sort of thing being done when the end result is also live action. It's just too expensive to film rehearsals such as this. Anyway, the acting in both versions we've seen appears to be identical. The set may look bad, but at least it's elaborate. No, this is definitely part of the same footage we saw before. But what else did we see that we're not seeing now that's what I want to know!'

'They must have found a way to alter it,' Ben suggested.

'Maybe De Sande's got some technical bods to invent a new editing machine or something.'

'Possibly,' the Doctor said, 'but very unlikely. Technically, this is a completely different film. Whilst we've all seen it, and recognise it, it's just not having any kind of emotional impact, at least not as much as it did last time.'

'Mind you, we're not exactly concentrating,' Ben reminded him. 'It doesn't matter!' said the Doctor, walking the fine line between being annoyed and excited. 'When watching the film originally, it had an effect because it felt as though you you were connected to the film. You said as much at the time. Never mind concentration, even the most casual of glances at the screen will tell you that this film is not having the same effect!' were connected to the film. You said as much at the time. Never mind concentration, even the most casual of glances at the screen will tell you that this film is not having the same effect!'

As if incensed by the Doctor's words, the film stopped as the reel finished.

'Well, that was a bit of an anticlimax,' Ben moaned.

'Oh, I don't think so,' said the Doctor. 'That reel proves something strange is going on. If it's the initial film before effects have been added... No, it can't be. This is 1947 you just can't can't change a film in postproduction like that.' change a film in postproduction like that.'

'Well, De Sande's people obviously can,' said Polly. 'He did say he had the best in the business working for him.'

The Doctor rubbed his hands together, a plan clearly forming in his mind. 'He did indeed. I'd rather like to meet some of them, I think. I'll be very interested to hear what they have to say about the film.'

'But why, Doctor?' Ben wondered. 'Why bother?'

The Doctor smiled. 'Because none of us have ever seen anything like Dying in the Sun Dying in the Sun before, and I'm curious. There's something strange going on, I'm sure of it. I just need to put my finger on what it is.' before, and I'm curious. There's something strange going on, I'm sure of it. I just need to put my finger on what it is.'

'But where do we start?' asked Ben, rapidly becoming exhausted by the Doctor's enthusiasm for his quest. 'We don't have any names, remember?'

'Since when has that stopped us?' the Doctor grinned. 'Ben, can you go out and pick up some newspapers, magazines or books anything that may contain information or gossip about Dying in the Sun Dying in the Sun's cast and crew. Polly, you and I will talk to the one name we do have. The one person we know worked on the film and who we haven't spoken to yet.' He held up the reel of film. 'What's more, we have a very good excuse indeed to pay him a visit.'

'We're here to see Caleb Rochefort,' the Doctor told the hospital receptionist.

'Not unless you're on the list,' the receptionist said, without even bothering to pretend to check her files for the patient's name.

'I'm the Doctor.'

The woman laughed. 'And I'm the receptionist.'

'Just check Mr Rochefort's guest list, will you?' The receptionist did so, and a look of surprise flashed across her face as she saw there was indeed someone listed as 'The Doctor'.

'Just go through,' she told him. 'His brother is with him at the moment, so you've chosen a convenient time to visit.'

As the Doctor and Polly walked up to the private room where Caleb was being cared for they saw a short, youthful-looking man leaving the room.

'Hello,' said the Doctor.

The man stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the stranger. 'Hello?'

'You must be Caleb's brother. How is the poor chap doing?'

'Amazingly well,' said the man. 'And you are?'

'Just a friend. When you say amazingly well...'

The brother shrugged. 'Well, he just looks so good. He's always been short, weak and scrawny. Never had much of a presence before.'

'What?' Polly said, incredulous. 'I've seen several of his films. If that's not presence, I don't know what is.'

The brother laughed. 'That's effects, make-up, stuntmen and a sprinkle of Hollywood magic. They make him look like a big tough guy who gets all the girls, but in real life... Well, that's not quite the way things are.'

'Oh really?' the Doctor said. 'Go on.'

'How long have you known my brother?'

'Not long.'

'Then you probably won't have known him long enough to notice the change. The speed with which he's built himself up is astounding. His ego's always been pretty big, but recently he's also started to live up physically to his movie image. He's bigger than he was before, so I guess he must be spending time in the gym. He's much more confident, his skin's better... I tell you, the change in him over the last few months has been amazing. It's so sad he's been injured like this.'

'It's always sad when guns are involved,' the Doctor said mournfully.

'Yeah well, thank the Lord Almighty he seems to be making a speedy recovery and still looks great. I dunno, I'm from Tennessee, so I guess this town can change people like that. I just thank my stars that Caleb's changed for the better.' He glanced down at his watch. 'Anyway, nice to meet you.' He tipped his hat. 'Have a nice day.'

The Doctor said goodbye, gave Polly a look that said he'd found the conversation intriguing, then turned the handle on the door to Caleb's room and marched in.

'Doctor!' Caleb said as his visitors arrived. 'How great to see you.' Polly found his voice alluring. It was booming, confident and contrasted strangely with the injured actor who was sitting up in his hospital bed reading a magazine. 'I never got to thank you properly for helping stop that lunatic. You might have saved my life, you know!'

'My involvement seems to have been somewhat exaggerated,' the Doctor said modestly, 'but I'm glad you're feeling a bit better.' He moved over to Caleb's bedside. 'You've certainly made a miraculous recovery so far.' He didn't sound as though he was trying to hide the suspicion in his voice.

Caleb laughed and whispered conspiratorially to him. 'One of the great things about being famous in this town is that people fall over themselves to help you. I've had the best doctors in the state looking after me.' He reached over to a frosted-glass fruit bowl on his bedside table and winced as he stretched his wound.

'That said,' he pointed out, clutching his bandaged stomach, 'it will be a while before I'm 100 per cent again!'

'Well, I hope you get well soon,' the Doctor said.

'You know, it's very kind of you guys to visit me,' Caleb said. He looked over at Polly, who was admiring the lack of taste evident in the hospital furniture that lined the room. 'What's your name, hon? I take it you want an autograph?'

On any other occasion, Polly would have been irked at the cheek of a statement like that, but the twinkle in Caleb's eyes as he said it meant that she couldn't help smiling at the actors sense of humour.

'This is Polly,' the Doctor said. 'She's a big fan.'

The joviality displayed on the Doctor's face disappeared as his expression became far more serious. 'Now Mr Rochefort, I'm afraid I have a confession to make.'