From the Street to the Stars (Andy Nebula: Interstellar Rock Star, Book 1)

Chapter 10: Time to Lift

The rain had subsided to a fine mist, leaving the air cool and fresh, and I felt wonderful as I sang and danced and fought my insubstantial enemies and rescued my robotic girl. I couldn't see the crowd, but I could hear them, could sense that I had them, that they were caught up in the story told by the song and the dance, that I held the emotions of all 30,000 of them in the palm of my hand like a lump of clay. They followed every nuance, responded to every subtlety, and rewarded me at the song's end with a standing ovation and the roar of "An-dy! An-dy! An-dy!" over and over.

I came off the stage drenched with sweat and riding a high like I'd never felt, even after my very first concert. To my surprise, Qualls greeted me in person. "Great show, Kit!" he shouted in my ear above the ongoing roar of the crowd. "The Dealer was impressed!"

I gave him a thumbs-up and a grin. Who cared what silly scam involving my money he was up to? It couldn't dampen this moment for me. He clapped me on the shoulder as I went past him, toward the tunnels leading back to the parking lot and my dressing room. "I'll be by later and we'll finalize things," he yelled.

I nodded and kept moving, grabbing the towel I always kept handy backstage and wiping my face as I went. He'd better come by quick, I thought. I had no intention of hanging around my dressing room for long. We wouldn't be lifting until the next day, and I planned to celebrate my success by hitting some of the Fistfight City funspots I'd only seen from the outside when I'd lived there. I used to play my stringsynth for the crowds waiting to get in, until the bouncers chased me off. I grinned to myself, picturing those same bouncers fawning all over me now that I was Andy Nebula. Oh, yes, it was going to be a big-time homecoming party night for this boy.

I passed security guards at the various places where access could be gained to the backstage area, and nodded approvingly to each of them in turn. No more flashmen cornering me in the corridors, and no more surprise visitors to the dressing room, I thought—and then stumbled to a halt just a few metres from my door, because there was someone there, just visible in the shadows. I turned to call for security, but the shadowy figure said, "No, Kit—wait," and stepped into the light.

I stared. "Marcel? What are—why aren't you in the control booth?"

"I left the computer in charge."

"But you're not supposed to do that. What if something went—"

"It didn't, did it? I've got to talk to you without Qualls knowing, and as long as he thinks I'm up there, he won't suspect that I'm back here."

"Well—" I touched the lockplate and the door slid open. "Come inside, then." Marcel followed me in quickly, taking off the floppy hat he'd worn that had shadowed his face. Like Qualls, he wore a weathercoat.

They give the employees weathercoats but not the star? I thought, a little peeved, tossing my towel on the bed. "Wasn't that a great show?" I said as I headed to the kitchen for a cold drink. My computer terminal blinked at me as I passed. Fan mail waiting, I thought smugly. "All that rehearsal really paid off. Qualls sure knew what he was talking about."

"Yeah, Qualls always knows what he's talking about. But I don't think you do."

I turned with an unopened chillpac of icefizz in my hand. "What?"

"I came to tell you—" Marcel took a deep breath. "I came to tell you you've got to dump Qualls as your manager. Now, while you still can."

"Dump him?" I opened the pac and took a swig of cold, tingling sweetness. "He's already got a post-Single gig lined up."

"Believe me, you don't want it."

"Believe me, I do want it." I flopped into one of the armchairs by the coffee table. "Andy Nebula's dead and gone, as of tonight. Now there's just me—Kit—and my music. And besides, we have a verbal agreement—witnessed by Qualls, The Dealer, and The Bullet's barman. That's binding enough that if I back out now Qualls will tie up all my credit so fast I'll be back singing outside Fistfight City bars."