I was in such a sublime spin these days I forgot to worry about Wallace Starr's peculiarities. The questions that had sprouted in my subconscious began to fade. I did what I was told. So, strangely, did Ric Planter. I supplied him with a detailed outline which Starr made up about the Kiriki. That wasn't enough so we sent him another, with even more details.
He kicked through with story after story about the Kiriki. Big dramatic stories, and in each one the Patterned Contentment boys were built up higher than in the last.
Starr purred like a kitten. He raised Planter's word-rates and my salary.
Orion caught on.
The fans loved the idea of a pseudo-history of a whole constellation of systems. The Kiriki, with their breathtaking crusade of contentment, sweeping over system after system until finally it outdistanced Orion and tentacled out from their home system into deepest space.... It captured the imagination. Where would it end?
Eventually we hit Life magazine, with a big spread. The slicks went after Ric Planter, but Starr had him tied up with an iron-clad contract. After all, the conception was Starr's. And I could see why he wouldn't let Planter hit the slicks. Because he could not dictate their policies. Only in Orion could he manipulate the strings from behind. The Kiriki were his babies and they must follow his pattern.
The night before our anniversary issue went to press it happened.
I had left Alice on her doorstep, just off the Drive. It was almost midnight, a blazing hot July night. Everybody and his dog was out for a breather. The Drive was alive with young lovers, old lovers, and dog lovers.
It hit me. In my hurry to get away from the office I had neglected to check with Starr about a last minute cover change. Starr hadn't been in all day. The printers would be closing the forms first thing in the morning and I had let the change go through without Starr's okay. Starr never came in until eleven.