'Oh?' Caleb said, one eyebrow raised.

'I'm afraid I did have another reason for visiting you besides meeting a celebrity. I was privileged enough to watch your new film the other night.'

The smile disappeared from Caleb's face.

'I didn't know De Sande had let anyone see it yet,' he said, clearly surprised.

'Oh, we've seen it all right!' said Polly. 'The Doctor wasn't that keen but I thought it was marvellous.' She found her attention trapped in the glare of Caleb's gorgeous, deep blue eyes. 'You were marvellous.'

Caleb smiled. 'Well, yeah, that's what they all say.' He turned to the Doctor. 'So why didn't you like the movie?'

'Oh, it was enjoyable enough,' said the Doctor. 'It just didn't seem to move me as much as it did the rest of the audience.

Maybe I just wasn't in the mood for a film that night.'

'Well, I'm sorry to hear that. So what has your visit got to do with the picture?'

The Doctor started shuffling around the room, idly looking up and down the walls. 'Oh, this and that really. I was fascinated by the technical aspects of it more than anything else. I just wanted to ask you what it was like to be around such fantastical effects.'

Caleb frowned. 'I wasn't around them much, to be honest.

De Sande wanted to shoot the film in two layers, one over the other. Our part was just done in the studio, with very few effects on the sound stage. Double exposure or something, he called it.

It was a way of putting effects on the film without creating them on the set.'

'So none of the effects were created live during filming?' said the Doctor.

Caleb shook his head. 'Not really. To be honest though, they might have been when I wasn't there. I wasn't on set every day, and even when I was I barely spoke to De Sande.'

'But he was the director,' said Polly. 'Surely you'd be speaking to him all the time?'

Caleb shook his head. 'De Sande isn't an actors' director. He didn't seem to have any time for getting the best performances.

"Just read your lines and get the hell home," he once said.

Rumour has it that he's like that because he thinks a nervous actor, scared witless of drying or fluffing, gives off an unintentional vibe of tension and paranoia that ends up in his pictures free of charge. Sometimes though, on the really minor scenes that just didn't matter on a plot level, he'd spend hours, doing hundreds of takes until he got the performances he wanted. Strange guy, but damn, damn talented.'

'Tell me, did Mr De Sande do anything else during the filming, or ask anyone else to do anything, that you found a bit unusual?'

'Nope. I mean he always had his bodyguards around, which I thought mighty pretentious, but apart from that he seemed on the level, even if his methods were somewhat... unorthodox.'

'Bodyguards?' the Doctor said, intrigued.

'Sorry, that's our nickname for the guys he called the Quality Observation Group. They never used to leave his side. Two or three men, tall and thin, real pale-looking skin. They sure ain't from California, you know. They never said a word, never left De Sande's side and I never once saw any of them smile. De Sande used to say he had arranged for them to watch over his shoulder and suggest any problems that might come up as filming occurred. That's his secret to never going over budget, apparently. I thought that was a bit over the top, to be honest with you Doctor, considering we were only making a crappy B, but hey, they pays the wages, so who am I to argue?'

Polly felt like she could sit and listen to Caleb for hours.

Even laid up in bed, still suffering from his gunshot wound, he had such charisma, such confidence. She was not remotely surprised that he had become such a celebrity.

Caleb closed his eyes and paused for several seconds, as if he'd heard something. He nodded then opened his eyes, coughed and clutched his chest, clearly in some pain but doing his best to hide it.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I'm not totally myself today.'

'Don't worry,' said the Doctor. 'You've been most helpful. I must say the more and more I hear about the making of this film the more intriguing it becomes.'

Caleb looked curiously at the Doctor, then started coughing.

'Are you all right?' the Doctor asked. 'You look rather off colour.'

Caleb shook his head. 'To be honest I'm not feeling that great. Do you think... do you think you could fetch the nurse?'

'Of course,' the Doctor said, nodding his head before scuttling out of the room.

'I must say I've never met a movie star before,' Polly said to Caleb as they waited for the Doctor to return.

'Do you have an autograph book, Polly?' Caleb wheezed.

He remembered her name. Just when she thought he couldn't get any nicer.

Polly was aware of Caleb's expectant look and realised that she hadn't answered his question. 'I'm afraid I don't.'

Caleb smiled and reached into one of the drawers beside his bed. He took out a pad of paper and showed it to Polly.

'Hospital notepaper. That way you'll never forget today.'

'Oh, I could never forget meeting you,' Polly said, not particularly intending to say that out loud.

Caleb signed the paper, handed it to her, then whispered in her ear. 'Tell me, Polly, have you ever wanted to be a star yourself?'

Polly could feel her cheeks flushing. How could he tell?

Caleb nodded enthusiastically. 'Of course. You have star quality, you know. You could do great things in the movies, someone as beautiful as you.'

Stop yourself, Polly thought. He's playing with you, toying with you. It's Leon Zane all over again. Don't listen to him. 'Do you really mean it?' she asked.

Caleb nodded. 'Of course. And before you ask, I'm not trying to get in bed with you. I'm happily attached, thanks. No, all I want is to see that potential in your eyes realised. When I get out of here... I know people, I can get you a part. In a few months you'll be the next Joan Crawford.'

Polly felt her pulse begin to race with excitement at what Caleb suggested. This was it, a real chance to be a movie star.

Unlike with Zane and his empty promises she knew she could trust Caleb. Knew that he was being totally genuine, totally honest. Leon Zane had lit the touchpaper that had made her start to think about stardom. Zane had promptly snuffed it out, but now... she could feel Caleb igniting it once more. After talking to him, after seeing how great he was with people, how witty, how charming... she knew that she wanted to be famous more than anything.

'So what do I have to do?' she asked.

'Just trust me,' Caleb said. He pointed to a chest of drawers on the other side of the room. 'Go over to that thing and open the second drawer down, will you?'

Polly walked across the room, opened the drawer and gasped as she saw a small pistol lying in the middle of some freshly laundered shirts.

'Relax,' Caleb said with a chuckle. 'I keep it close to me at all times. My father gave it to me before he died. It's kind of a sentimental token but it also keeps me safe in case of loonies and overeager fans, know what I'm saying? You can never be too safe, don't you think? Go on, pick it up. Isn't she a beauty?'

Polly lifted the gun and turned it over in her hands, feeling the cold metal against her skin.

'I need you to do something for me, Polly. Just one thing, and then I can help make sure that your dreams will all come true.'

Polly looked up at Caleb, then back down at the gun. Part of her didn't want to hear what he was going to ask. 'I need you to use that gun, Polly. I need you to kill the Doctor.'

Polly looked into Caleb's eyes, and could see that he was deadly serious. She could see that his words made sense, but she couldn't understand why she felt that way.

'Why?' was the only thing she could think of to say.

Caleb smiled, and pointed to his chest. 'Look inside yourself.

I think you know why. You've seen my latest film, haven't you Polly?'

She nodded. 'It's wonderful.'

'Then you understand. It has to reach the widest audience possible. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. If the Doctor starts asking awkward questions... he's interfering in affairs that are not his concern. His actions could lead to much pain and suffering.'

Polly was confused, but could see in Caleb's eyes that he told the truth. As he had suggested she searched inside herself, and all she could feel was the joy, the heartache, the comfort and the peace that she had felt when watching Dying in the Sun Dying in the Sun. The Doctor didn't like the film. He didn't get the film. And Polly knew that if he had his way he would not be happy until the film was banned. That he could deny so many people such amazing experiences... She felt tears of anger swelling in her eyes, and realised that Caleb was absolutely right.

'Do that Polly,' Caleb pleaded. 'And ignore everything I say from now on. I will try to stop you, but I won't mean it.'

Polly's concentration was disturbed by the noise of the door handle clicking.

'Sorry we took so long,' the Doctor said as he walked in accompanied by a nurse. 'They're very busy today...'

He stopped as he noticed Polly, standing to his side, aiming the gun directly at his head.

'Oh, my God!' the nurse gasped.

'Polly?' the Doctor said, confusion in his voice. 'Polly, what are you doing?'

'Doctor, help me!' Caleb screamed, his acting talents in full force. 'She's gone mad! She keeps threatening to shoot someone!'

'I'm sorry, Doctor,' Polly said. 'You have to die. It's for the greater good. Millions will find happiness through your sacrifice.'

The Doctor glanced at Caleb, then back at Polly. 'Wait,' he said. 'What's going on? It doesn't have to be like this! Every life matters, you know that, you've always believed that. Killing for the greater good can never be an option. Look after the pennies and the pounds look after themselves.'

Polly gripped the gun tightly. 'Doctor...'

'Come on, Polly, this won't help.'

'Polly!' Caleb shouted across the room. 'Don't shoot!'

'I'm sorry, Doctor,' Polly told her friend as she felt the damp of the tears on her cheeks.

She looked at the Doctor, then at Caleb, then back to the Doctor. She knew what she had to do. She pulled the trigger.

Second Reel

Chapter Eight.

Although located on the outskirts of Hollywood, the Moon Beam Bar was such a run-down establishment that no one would ever think to look for a movie star there. As Chate looked around it, he felt it didn't seem the sort of place where someone like Maria would be found. Perhaps that was the point.

It was mid-afternoon and there were few customers. Chate walked up to the barman and asked him if he'd seen Maria.

Looking disturbed at the question, the barman denied all knowledge of the woman, then retreated through a door into the back of the establishment. Chate sat patiently and waited. Four minutes later, a woman walked out of the door and glided round to the front of the bar where she took a seat next to him.

'How can I help you?' she asked.

Chate, as starstruck as a person could be, barely heard what she said.

'Maria. .' he stammered. 'Maria.'

The woman chuckled, a beautiful, high-pitched nightingale's song of a chuckle. 'That's my name. I must say, I'm surprised you found me. Only a few close friends know I'm staying here, and even when they let it slip I make sure the guys here don't tell.' Chate plucked up the courage to close his gawping mouth and say something useful. 'Thanks for seeing me then.'

Maria smiled. 'That's OK. I'm feeling quite good today, and when my friend described you, you didn't sound like anyone I'm trying to avoid.'

'So what are you doing here?' Chate wondered.