Patronising tosser. We call him Slime-on Josh. We got loads of nicknames for the stars. They aren’t all flattering so I’d better not tell.’
‘I shudder to think. Are you lot thinking up a nickname for me?’
‘What’s to say you haven’t got a nickname already?’
‘No I haven’t!’ He threw a pillow at her.
‘You have too!’ It was chucked back with a giggle. Minnie leapt on the bed, lying on top of him, nose-to-nose, with only the duvet separating them. Mervyn felt like a teenager, larking around with his new girlfriend in her parents’ bed, his head buzzing with excitement and danger.
‘You’re teasing me.’
‘It’s true. You’ve got a nickname.’
‘How can I have? I haven’t done a convention in seven years.’
She smiled her dirty smile. ‘What can I say? You’ve got a reputation that don’t die easily. Let’s just say you’ve made a bit of a name for yourself among the girl stewards. They say you always used to go on patrol, case them all for fresh talent. They call you “the Stone Ranger”.’
‘The what? ’
She kissed his nose. ‘You heard!’
‘What do you mean “case for talent”? I do not “case for talent”.’
‘Oh really? And you weren’t staring at my boobs all the while I was dealing with that fat bloke and his autographs?’
‘But I was only—’ He was about to protest that he’d only been trying to read her name tag, but his survival instinct took over. Probably not the best time to bring that up. Besides, if he hadn’t been trying to focus on her name, he’d most likely have been staring at her breasts. It was his good fortune he’d accidentally given her the right impression.
‘Anyway. I’m profoundly grateful to you.’
‘You should be, mate.’
‘No, not about what we just did! Though of course, that was nice.’
‘Nice?’
‘Great!’
‘I’ll take great.’
‘I meant I was profoundly grateful about you rescuing me from that mad fan.’
‘No worries. All part of the job.’
‘They can get a bit much, the ones with their anal addiction to crossing the stars off their little lists.’
‘I can believe it.’
She leapt off the bed and dived for her jeans, slipping them on. Then she dashed to the door, turned and said, ‘Oh, before I go, could you do something for me?’
‘Again? I’m an old man.’
‘Not that! Though I’ll be back for more, don’t you worry,’ she chucked a small black leather book on the bed. ‘Could you sign the postcard on page 23 and get the book back to me after the panel? I’d be really grateful.’
And she was gone.
Mervyn picked up the book. It was an autograph book, sheets of plastic envelopes filled with photos and postcards; most were signed, in very fulsome ways, ‘To Minnie.’
All the postcards and photos were of Vixens celebrities. All men.
Mervyn’s was about the only one left unsigned.
I’ll be back for more. Don’t you worry.
CONVIX 15 / EARTH ORBIT ONE / 1.00pm
EVENT: BEHIND-THE-SCENES PANEL, NICHOLAS EVERETT, MERVYN STONE, BERNARD VINER
LOCATION: Vixos Central Nerve Centre (main stage, ballroom)
EVENT: ‘ASSASSINS OF DESTINY’ PART TWO, EPISODE SCREENING
LOCATION: The Catacombs of Herath (video lounge—room 1024)
EVENT: AUTOGRAPH PANEL, JOSEPH McANDREW, TIM WARNE, BRYCE CAMPION, RICK ARMORY
LOCATION: Arkadia’s Boudoir (room 1013)
EVENT: PHOTOS—VANITY MYCROFT
LOCATION: Transpodule Chamber (room 1030)
EVENT: WRITING VIXENS FICTION PROFESSIONAL WRITERS’ PANEL with Graham Goldingay, Fay Lawless, Craig Jones, Darren Cardew
LOCATION: The Seventh Moon of Groolia (room 1002)
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Mervyn entered the ballroom for his behind-the-scenes panel, he was plunged into darkness.
He could dimly see about 200 people on chairs, their faces shining with the reflected light from a projection screen. Booming from the speakers was a distorted conversation. On the screen, her features blown up to monstrous proportions, was Vanity. Her hair was lacquered into a
‘I shudder to think. Are you lot thinking up a nickname for me?’
‘What’s to say you haven’t got a nickname already?’
‘No I haven’t!’ He threw a pillow at her.
‘You have too!’ It was chucked back with a giggle. Minnie leapt on the bed, lying on top of him, nose-to-nose, with only the duvet separating them. Mervyn felt like a teenager, larking around with his new girlfriend in her parents’ bed, his head buzzing with excitement and danger.
‘You’re teasing me.’
‘It’s true. You’ve got a nickname.’
‘How can I have? I haven’t done a convention in seven years.’
She smiled her dirty smile. ‘What can I say? You’ve got a reputation that don’t die easily. Let’s just say you’ve made a bit of a name for yourself among the girl stewards. They say you always used to go on patrol, case them all for fresh talent. They call you “the Stone Ranger”.’
‘The what? ’
She kissed his nose. ‘You heard!’
‘What do you mean “case for talent”? I do not “case for talent”.’
‘Oh really? And you weren’t staring at my boobs all the while I was dealing with that fat bloke and his autographs?’
‘But I was only—’ He was about to protest that he’d only been trying to read her name tag, but his survival instinct took over. Probably not the best time to bring that up. Besides, if he hadn’t been trying to focus on her name, he’d most likely have been staring at her breasts. It was his good fortune he’d accidentally given her the right impression.
‘Anyway. I’m profoundly grateful to you.’
‘You should be, mate.’
‘No, not about what we just did! Though of course, that was nice.’
‘Nice?’
‘Great!’
‘I’ll take great.’
‘I meant I was profoundly grateful about you rescuing me from that mad fan.’
‘No worries. All part of the job.’
‘They can get a bit much, the ones with their anal addiction to crossing the stars off their little lists.’
‘I can believe it.’
She leapt off the bed and dived for her jeans, slipping them on. Then she dashed to the door, turned and said, ‘Oh, before I go, could you do something for me?’
‘Again? I’m an old man.’
‘Not that! Though I’ll be back for more, don’t you worry,’ she chucked a small black leather book on the bed. ‘Could you sign the postcard on page 23 and get the book back to me after the panel? I’d be really grateful.’
And she was gone.
Mervyn picked up the book. It was an autograph book, sheets of plastic envelopes filled with photos and postcards; most were signed, in very fulsome ways, ‘To Minnie.’
All the postcards and photos were of Vixens celebrities. All men.
Mervyn’s was about the only one left unsigned.
I’ll be back for more. Don’t you worry.
CONVIX 15 / EARTH ORBIT ONE / 1.00pm
EVENT: BEHIND-THE-SCENES PANEL, NICHOLAS EVERETT, MERVYN STONE, BERNARD VINER
LOCATION: Vixos Central Nerve Centre (main stage, ballroom)
EVENT: ‘ASSASSINS OF DESTINY’ PART TWO, EPISODE SCREENING
LOCATION: The Catacombs of Herath (video lounge—room 1024)
EVENT: AUTOGRAPH PANEL, JOSEPH McANDREW, TIM WARNE, BRYCE CAMPION, RICK ARMORY
LOCATION: Arkadia’s Boudoir (room 1013)
EVENT: PHOTOS—VANITY MYCROFT
LOCATION: Transpodule Chamber (room 1030)
EVENT: WRITING VIXENS FICTION PROFESSIONAL WRITERS’ PANEL with Graham Goldingay, Fay Lawless, Craig Jones, Darren Cardew
LOCATION: The Seventh Moon of Groolia (room 1002)
CHAPTER EIGHT
As Mervyn entered the ballroom for his behind-the-scenes panel, he was plunged into darkness.
He could dimly see about 200 people on chairs, their faces shining with the reflected light from a projection screen. Booming from the speakers was a distorted conversation. On the screen, her features blown up to monstrous proportions, was Vanity. Her hair was lacquered into a
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