Chapter Text
The set of the most popular morning show in all the twelve colonies, ‘Wake Up Caprica’, could best be described as chaotic on this particular morning. Cameras were being shoved all over the floor, producers yelling into walkie talkies, large hot lights were swinging from one section of the stage to the other, and people scurrying like headless chickens. There was so much to cover and so little time. An upcoming Presidential Election, the trial of Gaius Baltar for treason, and the famous mystery author, Laura Roslin.
As weatherman Wally Gray was covering the latest activity of monsoon season on Aerilon, Laura Roslin sat on a big green couch, lost in thought, as an audio tech attached her lapel mic, and the makeup artist was applying last minute touches. When a young woman plopped down in the ‘host’ chair across from her, Laura snapped out of her daydream.
“Hi, Ms. Roslin,” she leaned forward with her hand outstretched. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tory Foster and I’ll be doing your interview this morning. I just wanted to let you know that I’m a huge fan,” she babbled with a big nervous smile.
Laura smiled tightly as she retracted her hand. Usually, she didn’t mind interviews. She saw them as a direct connection with her readers and found the “fan Q & A” portion to be fun, but not today. Not after the phone call she received on her way to the studio.
The voice of the Director boomed around the set, calling everyone into position.
“Back from commercial in thirty.”
Laura was watching Tory flip through her notecards when she felt the buzzing of her cellphone in her pocket. She huffed as she pulled the phone out and read the message.
‘I’m sorry, I tried to get him to understand but he won’t budge.’
She shoved the phone back in her pocket and sat up a little straighter as the Floor Director began to count them in.
*
William Adama sat at the conference table in his large hotel suite, mindlessly signing copy after copy of his latest bestseller, “The Bloody Walls of Aerilon.” His agent, Ellen Tigh, was having an animated phone conversation as she paced by the expansive windows that overlooked downtown Caprica City, while her husband and Adama’s best friend, Saul Tigh, sat in front of the large vid screen, munching on a piece of dry toast.
‘Coming up next on Wake Up Caprica, bestselling author, Laura Roslin, is here to talk about her newest novel, “The Bloody Streets of Aerilon” and to take fan questions. Stay tuned.’
“She stole your title, Bill,” Saul called over his shoulder. “She’s a hack.”
“Why are you watching that, Saul? You know it upsets him, look at him,” Ellen chided, pointing towards Bill.
Saul looked over his shoulder to find a red-faced Bill Adama scribbling furiously in a book.
“We’ve gotta keep an eye on the enemy, El. No telling what kind of bullshit she’s gonna say this time,” Saul replied.
‘And we’re back with award winning mystery author Laura Roslin…”
Saul quickly stuffed the last of his toast in his mouth, grabbed the remote, and cranked up the volume.
“Here we go,” he hooted.
*
“It’s a pleasure to be here, Tory,” said Laura after Tory finished her introduction.
*
“I swear her skirts get shorter every time she goes on TV,” said Saul, Bill’s head popping up at the comment.
*
“Now, Ms. Roslin, your newest book, ‘The Bloody Streets of Aerilon’, seems to have started a bit of a fanbase war since William Adama released his book, ‘The Bloody Walls of Aerilon’, because of the similar titles. Was that planned on your part?”
“Absolutely not. Before I start any book, I have to have a title. It’s what keeps the story anchored for me when creating my outline. As far as how Mr. Adama operates, who can say how he comes up with his titles. I mean, most of his titles don’t really make sense anyway.”
*
Bill rose from his seat at the table and slowly moved around towards the vid screen, his face becoming more thunderous by the minute.
*
“As for the story, the victim of this book is an elderly author who meets an untimely demise and based on the physical description of the character, some suspect that the victim in your story represents William Adama. Is there any truth to that?” asked Tory.
“My characters are never a representation of one person, they’re a comingling of several people that I’ve met along the way. It keeps feelings from being hurt,” she laughed.
*
“Elderly,” Saul snorted.
Bill gave him a dirty look.
*
“Before we get to the fan questions, where will you be this weekend?” asked Tory.
“I will be at the Caprican Exchange, doing a signing on Saturday night,” Laura replied.
“Saturday night?” Tory questioned.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Laura answered through gritted teeth.
*
“She doesn’t look too happy about that,” Saul laughed.
*
“Oh! That’s the same date for the William Adama book signing. Seems like there may have been a mix up there,” Tory laughed.
“Yes, there was, but I will be located in the lovely aviary on the third floor, and I believe Mr. Adama’s table will be located on the second floor, next to the dumpsters,” Laura snickered.
*
Bill snatched the remote off the coffee table and flipped the vid screen off, throwing the remote down on the table with a loud thud.
“Take it easy, Bill. Don’t let her get under your skin,” Saul warned.
Bill flounced back down at the conference table, picking up his pen and resumed signing the stack of books.
“I told you, Saul,” Ellen scolded, crossing over to Bill. “Bill, I promise, your table is not by the dumpsters. You’re in the aviary too and Marty Hill is busing in a couple dozen fan club members to help bulk up your numbers.”
“Bulk up my numbers?” Bill asked.
“Yes, Laura Roslin always draws a big crowd, and I don’t want you to end up sitting there, twiddling your thumbs.”
“You’re saying that I can’t pull Roslin’s numbers?” Bill asked, the thunderous look returning to his face.
“That’s not what I’m saying but she has an unfair advantage. The short skirts, the low-cut tops, the hair…”
“That ass,” Saul chimed in.
Saul held up his hands in surrender when the other two shot him a withering glare.
“Don’t look at me like that, you’ve both made the same comment,” Saul defended.
“Bill, honey, trust me. It’s all going to work out,” Ellen promised though he wasn’t totally convinced.
“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Saul asked.
TBC