ge. He was furious at her casual gay chatter mocking his
churning desire for her. His glance caught a movement across the street
and suddenly he went rigid with surprise and soft shock. A girl had
come out of the saloon and the hussy was wearing men's trousers. His
shock increased when he heard the delicate lady from Nashville say, "Oh,
damn, who the hell is that?" and he was further startled to see an oddly
dressed man wearing some sort of metal apparatus on his head follow the
girl out of the saloon, gesticulating angrily at her.

"CUT!" the omnipresent voice commanded and now Jed Carter was utterly
confused. The man wearing the metal apparatus crossed over to him and
spoke. "Jason, please. You know the rules about visitors on the set. No
one allowed during recording. Zack says we'll have to ask your sister to
leave."

Jed Carter saw the townspeople just standing around staring in his
direction. "What's goin' on?" he said to the odd man. "What are you
talkin' about? Who are you?"

"Oh, oh," the man with the headset exclaimed, "here we go again." He
made a signal with his hand and another man came running up. The man led
Jason up the steps of the hotel and into the lobby with a promise to
explain everything. He sat Jason in a chair. "Jason, Jason Rowe, Jason
Rowe," the man's voice pulled at him. He kept repeating the name.

A minute later Zack came into the lobby. "Jason!"

"Hello Zack," Jason said.

"Oh, you're back with us," Zack said. He stared at Jason a long moment.
"One of these days," he said with a wry grin, "you're not going to make
it."

* * * * *

Bob Herschell came out of the magnificent crystal palace that was
U-Live-It's New York feelie showcase and searched the garden plaza. "Cy!
I thought I'd find you here wringing your hands."

"We should never have premiered cold like this," Lemson complained. "We
should have at least had one private running for the reviewers. We
wouldn't be dangling like this."

"Stop worrying, Cy. A first night lets the critics get caught up in the
excitement. And even if they go sick and thumb down 'Land' it won't
stand against the top power voodoo job the publicity gang is saturating
the public with. And bigger than all the critics is Jason Rowe. He's
filled six thousand couches in there with the biggest voluntary
celebrity turnout for any preem."

"Jason Rowe," Lemson sighed, rolling supplicating eyes heavenward. "He
jeopardized a ten