Freem's landing left much to be desired. He'd taken them right through the roof of some building. Still, they'd arrived, and this was Jubie's first chance to see the planet she'd devoted the last ten years to.
"After you," she said, directing him towards the airlock with her laser gun.
"Open up," he told the door. The airlock slid open, letting out air that had been cycling through the filters for two weeks. Freem vanished outside, and Jubie followed.
They were in an office, that was obvious, though this one was much larger and more colorful than Jubie's cubicle, and actually a plant and some paintings. Oddly, one wall was utterly missing, and all Jubie could see was blackness. A pretty brown haired woman were talking about something.
"Why did you really come here?" the woman asked.
The man held her tightly and whispered, "To rekindle our lost love."
"We kissed once in the second grade, Jake."
The pair didn't seem to even notice Jubie, or Freem, or the huge spaceship that had crashed through their ceiling.
"Hello?" Jubie said, waving a hand in front of the man's face.
"Alright," he said. "I admit it. I had another reason."
"Freem, this is very weird," said Jubie.
"I told you this was a rotten idea," he said.
"Ember, I don't know how to say this," Jake went on.
"Just say it," pleaded the woman.
"Okay. You're the heiress to a great fortune."
Jubie waved her gun in front of the woman's face. She just laughed, oblivious. "Some news!" she said. "Daddy set up that nice trust fund for me before he died."
"No, Ember. I'm talking about something else."
Jubie crossed over to where Freem was standing, near the desk. "What's going on here?" she asked.
He shrugged. "You've got me. Look at the papers on this desk. They're just gibberish."
Behind them, Ember had broken away from Jake's embrace, and was now pacing slowly around the room. "Isn't Gumbella the island that terrible earthquake sunk?"
"New Gumbella," Jake said. "The Gumbellans and a legion of computer programmers who were holding a convention there escaped on a cruise ship, if you remember the news. They founded a new country six months later."
"So you work for Gumbella computer?"
Freem jerked to attention as she said this. He nodded for Jubie to listen. "We might learn something," he explained.
"I work for the security division," Jake went on.
"Oh! You're a spy!"
"Nothing that drastic..."
"Well, what is this all about?"
Jake took a deep breath, then looked her straight in the eyes. "Ember, we have reason to believe that you're actually the heir to the Gumbella throne."
"What? But it's only been around a year or so."
"But the old Gumbellans held fast to their beliefs. They are under the rule of Chief Kungabunga, but his health is fading fast."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"He's your father, Ember!"
"What? My father was killed five years ago."
"No, I'm afraid not. I've already talked to Scott-"
"My long lost twin brother?"
"Yes. I've talked to him, and he agreed to a blood test. Kungabunga is his father, and therefore, yours."
"But how?"
"He came to America to study. Perhaps he and your mother-"
"Alright. I've got to think about this. Please, go away."
Jake nodded solemnly, and opened the door. A short, ugly woman with pointed ears and buckteeth had been leaning against it, eavesdropping. She fell to the floor and Jake stepped over her without a thought.
"Ember! Ember!" said the short woman, picking herself up. "I mean, Mrs. Burns, Mrs Burns!"
"What is it, Peggie?"
"I just heard! Your husband's been arrested!"
"What? Why?"
"He's been accused of murder!" she said.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. Ember suddenly began slouching, Jake came back in, and Peggie fixed her gaze on the floor. Ember and Jake looked around, for the first time taking account of their surroundings. Ember saw them and screamed.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Jake demanded of them.
Jubie pointed her laser gun at him, but the man apparently had no idea what it was.
"We have to rent these director-chips by the second!" he yelled. "And this is a special two-minute episode! What's wrong with you?"
Ember had stopped screaming, and was now glaring at Freem. "You're touching Ember's desk," she said.
"I thought you were Ember," Freem said coldly.
"Idiot!" she yelled in his face.
"Sir and ma'am," said the short woman, still looking at the ground. "Have you noticed that the other sir and ma'am have a spaceship?"
Before anyone could answer, a short man in a tan suit and gold-trimmed glasses ran in from the wall-less side of the room. He looked tense enough to snap, and reminded Jubie of her boss, Cannon, back at Manifest Central. "What's going on here?!?!?" he demanded frantically.
"Milton, handle this!" Jake demanded. "These two deranged fans came in from outer space while we were shooting!"
"Outer space?" he screeched. "Outer space!! Do we have anything in the script about outer space?!?!? First the Lami zens, and now this! Outer space!!"
He stopped raving and closed his eyes. "Gotta breathe," he told himself. "Gotta breathe. Gotta relax. Can't relax. Outer space! Outer space! Where's the script??"
"Yeah, Milton, you handle it," Ember said. She slapped him across the face to shut him up.
Jubie took the opportunity to get a handle on the situation. "Citizens of Earth-324," she said. "We have come in the name of Manifest Destiny to welcome you to galactic society."
"They'll never make it through processing," Freem said coldly. "Why bother welcoming them?"
Milton had calmed down a little bit. "Outer space!" he called cheerfully. "Outer space! I can see it now! A lonely field. Ember's making love to the tall, handsome stranger of the week, when suddenly! Aliens from outer space abduct them both! Think of the possibilities!"
"Why, she could be the first person to meet an alien intelligence," Ember said, wistfully. "The audience will eat it up! I'll go down in history for this scene!"
The strange earthlings had once again filtered their visitors out of their minds.
"Come on, let's get out of here," said Freem.
"Alright," Jubie said. "But I'm not giving up just yet. Let's find the watchmen."
She lead her hostage back inside the Papierkrieg.
"Any luck?" she asked the computer.
"LOCATED: ONE WATCHMAN CLASS ANDROID," it said. "LAY IN COURSE?"
"Go ahead."
"LAUNCHING..."
Great, she thought. She was finally going to get some answers.
Milton was vaguely aware of the spaceship rising back up through the hole it had made in the ceiling.
What a day this had been! First his holiness, Lami Dami Salam IX, had completely zenned, leaving Milton, a humble assistant producer to manage everything for the special two-minute episode. And it had been screwed up royally! They'd have to film the scene completely over, costing the studio millions! On the other hand, once he got the writers working on the whole alien plotline, people would be so grateful, that they could even make him a Lami!
Excitedly, he flicked the switch that activated the studio's psychic director chips. "Let's take it from the top!" he called to the actors, before the chips took his mind away to a thousand happy financial calculations.
What a day!