Heather had been scarred a little by all that had overtaken her, but, he knew, she was all right now. Like all sixes she had enormous recuperative ability. It had been carefully built into each of them. Along with much, much else. Even he, at forty-two years, didn’t know them all. And a lot had happened to him, too. Mostly in the form of dead bodies, the remains of other entertainers he had trampled on his long climb to the top.

“These ‘flashy’ ties—” he began, but then the skyfly’s phone rang. He took it, said hello. Probably it was Al Bliss with the ratings on tonight’s show.

But it was not. A girl’s voice came to him, penetrating sharply, stridently into his ear. “Jason?” the girl said loudly.

“Yeah,” he said. Cupping the mouthpiece of the phone he said to Heather, “It’s Marilyn Mason. Why the hell did I give her my skyfly number?”

“Who the hell is Marilyn Mason?” Heather asked.

“I’ll tell you later.” He uncupped the phone. “Yes, dear; this is Jason for real, in the true reincarnated flesh. What is it? You sound terrible. Are they evicting you again?” He winked at Heather and grinned wryly.

“Get rid of her,” Heather said.

Again cupping the mouthpiece of the phone he said to her, “I will; I’m trying to; can’t you see?” Into the phone he said, “Okay, Marilyn. Spill your guts out to me; that’s what I’m for.”

For two years Marilyn Mason had been his protégée, so to speak. Anyhow, she wanted to be a singer—be famous, rich, loved—like him. One day she had come wandering into the studio, during rehearsal, and he had taken notice of her. Tight little worried face, short legs, skirt far too short—he had, as was his practice, taken it all in at first glance. And, a week later, he had arranged for an audition for her with Columbia Records, their artists and repertoire chief.

A lot had gone on in that week, but it hadn’t had anything to do with singing.

Marilyn said shrilly into his ear, “I have to see you. Otherwise I’ll kill myself and the guilt will be on you. For the rest of your life. And I’ll tell that Heather Hart woman about us sleeping together all the time.”