“That is why I sent Mr. Bitzer and Mr. Davidson out for a late supper—before I shot one of them—so you and I can try some other stunts to light this scene.” Davidson had joked that tossing spare actors off the roof carrying cameras to film their own fall in the general direction of the life net would be easier than faking a foggy night scene in the studio, while providing bigger thrills for the exhibitors.

“What if we painted the side of the ship a darker color?”

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Bell. I can’t stay any later. My husband is working the graveyard shift, and there’s no one to stay with the baby.”

“Go. Thanks for staying as long as you could. I will figure it out. See you at The Iron Horse in the morning. We will try this again tomorrow night. The sooner we’re done, the sooner they can knock down this ship and put up our locomotive. Good night, dear. Thank you. Good night, everyone. Thank you all.”

Rennegal, her assistant, and the stagehands and electricians trooped into the elevator, chorusing, “Good night, Mrs. Bell.”

The elevator hummed down to the lobby, leaving her in a silence. Marion paced the empty stage. What if, she wondered, she got rid of the smoke? Did it soften the light or make it brighter?

She really had to go home and rest up for tomorrow. But as tired as she was, she could not stop thinking.

She opened the door in the glass north wall of the penthouse and stepped outside, onto the narrow terrace. A chilly breeze from the mountains plucked at her blouse. She hugged herself for warmth and peered over the parapet down at the tiny circle of the life net a hundred feet below.

Lighted by the spill from the windows of the first-floor film exchange, the canvas gleamed like a silver dollar. Marion studied it intently. There had to be a way to depict the beams of the searchlights without washing out the surrounding darkness.

“WELCOME, BITTEREINDERS,” Christian Semmler greeted the fighters he had summoned from the vice-consulate. These six had been the last of the so-called Bittereinders, holdouts who had refused to surrender when the British defeated the Boers’ regular armies and had fought on, extending the last days of hostilities by harassing slow-moving British columns, cutting their lines of communication, and killing sentries.