Refusal.

  Zack Adder maintained his smile.

  “No angle, my good sir, but I simply must—”

  “Oh no, you definitely got an angle. Everybody got an angle. And your angle definitely ain’t wanting to become an [Actor].” The director pronounced that one word, [Actor], as though it was the most important and deserving of proper diction of all the words he’d spoken thus far.

  “You just don’t got it.”

  The director narrowed his eyes, looking up at the bowing, dark-haired, pale young man before him.

  “What you got is trouble, and you’re trying to bring it here.”

  Zack’s smile faltered.

  The director continued, acerbic as before.

  “Well, now that you’re here, and I know you’re trouble and you know I know you’re trouble, out with it. Who’d you piss off? The City Guard? Mickey? Or you some kind of runaway slave? I don’t know what you’ve heard about the theater but we can’t actually remove slave crests.”

  Zack cleared his throat and stood up straight. “No, I’m nobody’s slave. I’m just…” He glanced at the director to make sure he was still watching, which the balding man of course noticed and rolled his eyes, gesturing for Zack to continue.

  He didn’t want to use Eleanor’s passphrase if he could help it. So it was time to tell the best kind of lie.

  A misleading truth.

  “I just got to this city the other day, and tried to reinvent myself, and it didn’t work. I want to change. I want to be someone else. I want to leave my past behind and become someone new. And, no, I’m not in any kind of trouble with the law or Mickey or anything like that. I’m just—my back’s up against the wall, I’m out of money, and I know I can make it in the theater.”

  The round man snorted.

  Zack continued.

  “I”m sure you’ve heard this all before. I get it. I just want a chance. Let me work for you. I’ll do anything you need, just let me stick around and work until the next auditions.”

  Now the director raised an eyebrow. It was honestly impressive how expressive he could be with just his face.

  If that was a [Skill], Zack wanted it.

  Zack raised a finger. “Of course, I won’t insult you by claiming that I’ll work for free. I simply can’t. I’m out of money and by tomorrow I won’t have any lodging. But I’ll work for room and board, and if I can’t get a role by the next auditions, I’ll leave and will bother you no further.”

  The director stared at Zack.

  Silently.

  His face was as still as if it were carved from stone.

  It was almost as if he was flexing on Zack—showing off how good his facial control was.

  Zack was sorely tempted to use the passphrase now.

  But, he knew what was really going on.

  Silence could be incredibly powerful in negotiations.

  People unconsciously try to fill the silent gaps in a conversation, because silence feels like a conversation is falling apart. So when one party in a negotiation is silent, an inexperienced negotiator on the other side will start babbling and promising concessions that weren't even asked for.

  Zack felt off-balance, but did his best to keep his own face smiling and returned the director’s gaze.

  One minute…

  Two…

  His face was feeling stiff.

  It was really uncomfortable, especially since stagehands and actors were gathering around to watch and at least one was visibly trying not to laugh.

  Suddenly, the director clapped his hands.

  “Time is money, and I won’t have you waste any more of my time. I can put you to work, but right here, right now, you tell me exactly what it is you’re hoping to get out of this. I’ll admit, you didn’t actually tell any lies just now, but that’s just the sign of a good liar. Now, out with it.”

  Zack replied immediately.

  “[Skills].”

  “[Skills]?”

  “Yes, [Skills]. I want to acquire a number of skills and I think this theater is my best shot at getting them.”

  “Which [Skills], exactly?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but whatever [Skills] will let me become another person.”

  The director’s eyes flashed in recognition; of what, Zack didn’t know. “Fine, deal. But I’m the director: I decide who you are. And I don’t want to know your name or history; I can still smell the trouble on you… Your name is now ‘Jack,’ got it?”

  Zack—Jack—nodded.

  “Yes. And, your name…?”

  The man snorted angrily. “You got no business asking me that, Jack. Just call me The Director, but, also, don’t. Jim!”

  The stagehand who had been trying not to laugh came over. “Yes, Director?”

  “Ohh don’t you start with me, Jim, I’ve wasted enough time here. Put Jack to work. Make him really earn his keep. He can sleep in the dressing room on an empty bench—” he turned to the newly minted Jack “—but if you make a mess in there you’re out on your tail, got it?”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Yes, Director!”

  Zack snapped to attention, and Jim barked a laugh as his composure broke.

  The Director rolled his eyes and stormed off surprisingly quickly through a door, slamming it behind himself.

  All in all, success.

  Zack had bought himself a little time.

  For the rest of the night, Zack wiped down benches and scrubbed the floor in the gallery, where theater attendees would watch plays and, apparently, throw beer and wine and nuts and other confections onto the ground, where they mashed it all into the floorboards. Jim amused himself by pointing out spots Zack had missed and, generally, taking it easy. He was a young man, maybe in his late teens, with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes.

  The floor hadn’t been scrubbed in a long, long time, judging by the layers of grime Zack was cleaning up.

  He half expected to pick up a few cleaning-related skills throughout the long night, but instead—

  *ding!* The skill [Night Eye] has been acquired.

  Zack was able to see a little better, when he focused. The lighting in the building was more clever than it appeared at first glance, letting in a decent amount of moon and starlight.

  Of course, being the middle of the night, it was still plenty dim.

  With the new skill, Zack was able to see even more grime on the floor.

  Hurray.

  Hours later, shoulders sore, Zack finished the entire middle gallery.

  “Alright, that’s enough for tonight. Here’s the dressing room.”

  He led Zack behind the stage and there was a single long, but narrow, room. Costumes hung on racks and there were benches along a table against the wall with a number of mirrors and cosmetics scattered about.

  Jim kicked one of the empty benches. “You can sleep here, then. The cast will be back a bit before noon for rehearsal, and to prep for tomorrow night’s shows, but you should be able to get a good couple hours of sleep before then.”

  Zack nodded. “Alright, thanks Jim.”

  Jim looked a little flustered at that.

  “Uh, sure.” He walked out. The dressing room was actually starting to get brighter in the dawn light, but Zack was exhausted: physically, mentally, and emotionally. He fell asleep as soon as he put his head down.

  Several hours later he was awoken by the cast returning for a pre-rehearsal luncheon, the leftovers of which were his breakfast.

  It was a good sign that he hadn’t been discovered yet.

  From then until the evening Zack served as everyone’s gofer.

  As in, hey, Jack, gofer some water.

  Jack, gofer that dress. No, the yellow one.

  It wasn’t [Skill] training.

  But Zack was lying low, so he simply smiled and carried out the mundane little tasks.

  When he wasn’t doing that, he lent a hand to the stagehands who moved the sets around between scenes. During the evening performances he was able to take a break, mainly because nobody wanted him in the way while they were working.

  Then, once the crowds cleared out, he was back to cleaning until almost dawn.

  And still no armored knights and grey-robed priests burst in to catch him.

  He thought the odds were pretty good he had made a clean getaway.

  By the third day, Zack had deep-cleaned just about every square inch of the theater. When he woke, slightly before noon, the Director was there, although the cast had yet to arrive.

  “Well, well, well, Jack. I thought for sure you’d have quit by now.”

  Zack got up from the bench and bowed. “Director, good morning.”

  The Director gave him the stink-eye. “Where’d you learn to do that? It’s creepy. Knock it off.”

  He stood up straight again, trying to keep his face neutral. “Okay.”

  The Director smiled, but looked really fake. “Good, good, that’s better. Jim tells me you’re a hard worker and nobody’s heard you whining, so I’ve decided to promote you. You’re going to be an understudy.”

  Zack’s face brightened involuntarily. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait.”

  Now the Director’s smile looked genuine, but also malicious. “Oh yes, yes yes yes, you really can’t wait, can you? No waiting for you, you’re going to be very very busy. But that’s what you want, of course: your [Skills].”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  He looked up at Zack expectantly, then sighed. “...you don’t even know what [Skills] you’re trying to get, do you?”

  Zack blinked. “Uh, [Acting]…?”

  “Oh boy…” he muttered to himself. “Yes, [Acting] is one such skill, but if you really want to become another person, you’ll need more than that.”

  He shifted a little, just a minor change in posture, but it was suddenly like there was an entirely different person standing in front of Zack. He even seemed taller, somehow. His entire atmosphere changed in the blink of an eye, but…

  “Do you understand?”

  Calm. Kind. Helpful. The Director asked with a tone of mentorship Zack had never imagined he would hear from the man.

  And he did kind of get it. Obviously he was [Acting] right now, but he was also still clearly The Director. His voice was the same; only his tone had changed. Nothing about his physical appearance was different: same clothes, same body shape, same face.

  “Ah, yeah, I see. It’s more than just [Acting] to become another person…”

  “You don’t see, but yes, it’s more than just [Acting]. [Disguise], [Mimic], [Voice], [Enunciate], [Memorize], [Pose], [Gesture], and more… If you only [Act], you’re not even third-rate. It’s when everything comes together that the magic happens…”

  He looked off into the distance for a moment, then turned back to his new understudy. “Normally, it’s the work of a lifetime to become a first-rate [Actor]. Even a third-rate [Actor] studies and hones their craft for years, but you... You're not in this for the long haul, are you?"

  Zack just smiled at him, silently. In response the Director clicked his tongue.

  "Damn the one who taught you to hold your tongue—it's bloody annoying. Just draws more attention to you, too, rather than deflecting attention. You'll need to work on that."

  Zack’s smile faltered. Crap, really?

  This field agent stuff was tricky. Hacking a computer network was much simpler.

  “I don’t really care,” the Director continued. "But, if you want the [Skills] and don't plan to spend the rest of your life on it, the fastest way is to get real good at [Memorizing]."

  He picked up a sheaf of parchment from the desk next to him and handed it to Zack.

  "This is the script for our current play. [Memorize] it."

  "Sure, which part?"

  "Which part? Which part he says?! All of it!" he shouted. "[Memorize] it so well you can recite it forwards, backwards, line by line, and even copy it down from memory!" He jabbed Zack in the chest with his finger, reaching up to do so. "Up on the stage, out there in real life, you don't get to bring the script with you. It needs to be up here—" he tapped his head, "—and you need to be able to recall it every which way at the drop of a hat. If another [Actor] flubs a line, you need to be able to remember the entire scene so you can get it back on track with your line, and you don't have time to sit there and think, because you need to be [Acting] the entire time. It needs to flow—it needs to be natural!"

  He glared up at Zack. "You can't just say nothing to avoid lying, either. Sure, you don't want to outright lie, because that's stupid and that's how you get caught. But you need to keep the conversation flowing, distract the other person, imply and insinuate and change the subject and keep the flow going!"

  He spun around dramatically, threw his head back, and put a hand to his forehead as he sighed. Then he turned around again.

  "That script stays in this theater. It's not yours to keep; if you want a copy, [Memorize] it and keep it in your head."

  With that, he spun around one more time then stormed out of the dressing room.

  Thus Zack Adder learned that he wasn’t so good at lying as he had thought he was.

  And he was promoted to understudy.

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