The Spiral Path by Mary Jo Putney Page A

men was about
to drive through Randall's chest. "Don't! This one is an officer." He
kicked Kenzie's carefully padded ribs. So far, so good. "I shall find a
use for him."
    "You
might as well kill me now, because I'll do nothing that might help you,"
Kenzie spat out. Randall was fiercely defiant at this point, sure he could face
death with courage, not knowing that dying would be simple compared to what lay
ahead. "Or if you're the warrior you claim to be, cut me loose so we can
fight like men!"
    Sharif
smiled with vicious anticipation. "There's m-m-m-more..." His words
trailed off in a stutter.
    "Cut!"
    The
youthful cable puller gave an audible groan. Sharif flushed violently. Rainey
took one look at his face, then whirled and stormed over to the culprit.
"You're off the movie. Now!"
    He
gasped. "But ... but..."
    "It's
not your job to judge performances," she snapped. "If you want to
continue working in this business, remember that in the future. Now go!"
    The
boy left in the midst of paralyzed silence. Even his boss, the head of the
sound crew, didn't protest. Rainey was well within her rights to fire the
idiot, and she'd proved to the crew she was tough enough to be the boss. But
something had to be done to get production back on course.
    Kenzie
scrambled to his feet. "Someone take these damned ropes off me. We all
need a break."
    Seeing
his expression, Rainey said, "Kenzie's right. Take ten."
    As
the first assistant director, Bill Meriwether, called the break to the crew,
Kenzie said to Sharif, "Let's take a walk. Stretch a few of the knots out
of our legs."
    Looking
like a lamb on the verge of being sacrificed, Sharif nodded. Kenzie fell into
step beside him and headed away from the trucks and cameras. In the desolate
canyon, it took only a dozen paces to start feeling alone in the wilderness.
    Sharif
had his head down as if he was walking through a minefield. Despite his height
and a splendid beard that made him photograph older, Sharif was quite young,
Kenzie realized. Early to mid-twenties, which explained a great deal. "Is
this your first movie role?" he asked conversationally.
    "Yes , sir. I graduated from the Central School of Speech and Drama last spring.
I've done several small television and stage parts, but nothing like
this." Though he used an accent for Mustafa, his natural speech was as
crisply British as Kenzie's.
    Central
was one of London's top drama schools, so Sharif obviously had ability and good
training. While Kenzie was wondering what might get him to relax, Sharif
blurted out, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Scott. I thought I had my lines down
perfectly, but... "He made a helpless gesture with his hands.
    "Being
in a Hollywood movie terrifies you."
    "That's
part of it." Sharif swallowed. "And ... and it's also you, sir. I saw
you play Romeo at Stratford. The way you made him come alive... You lit up the
whole stage. That's when I knew I had to become an actor."
    Ah.
As a RADA student, Kenzie once shared a stage, in a very minor role, with Sir
Alec Guinness. He'd almost expired from awe. Though he was hardly in Guinness's
class and only a dozen or so years older than Sharif, an idol was an idol.
"So I'm your hero?"
    "Yes,
sir."
    Kenzie
swung around and faced the younger man. "I'm not your hero," he
snarled. "I'm a son-of-a-bitch Englishman who knows I'm superior to you
and your whole filthy country."
    Sharif
stared at him, shocked. "What ... why are you saying that? I was born in Birmingham
and I'm as English as you are."
    Kenzie
pushed harder. "My people have better guns and a better God, so that makes
us a better race. You miserable heathen savages should be grateful that a
Christian nation even bothers with you."
    "You
arrogant Pommy bastard." Sharif's British civility vanished in a
surge of fury.
    As
the younger man's fists clenched, Kenzie balanced on the balls of his feet so
he could dodge if necessary. Then Sharif caught his breath, rage vanishing into
understanding. "I see, sir. You mean I should stop