alternatehistory.com

Toronto, Canada

“You don’t have to be here,” Paul Saltzman said. “I think maybe it would be better all around if you just took the day off, went sightseeing.”

“Or waited in the reception area,” David Burton said. “If it’s all the same, if this is the end of the road, I’d like to be here for it.”

Saltzman looked around. Terry Nation, Ian Levine and Ken Roarch all sat stiff and serious, staring grimly. None of them were happy with the situation. But none of them were prepared to have a confrontation over it.

“Fine,” Saltzman said finally, “I can respect your interest. But David, try to remember, this is just business. We’re here to make a business decision. It’s not personal.”

“Well,” Burton said, a bare hint of anger in his voice, “if it’s not personal, then there should be no problem with me sitting in.”

“Of course not,” Saltzman said. He had anticipated something like this. They’d arranged for a security guard to be close by, just in case. Saltzman nodded at his assistant Sherry, she nodded back and left the room to get him. Burton watched her leave.

“Relax mate,” Terry Nation said, “It’s just business. No matter what happens, you’ll do all right. We got your back.”

Burton nodded glumly, but at least he didn’t make any comment about knives.

“All right,” Saltzman said, “as you know, we’ve narrowed it down to three candidates. We are four producers or production companies. Mr. Levine votes for Millennium, as a rights holder. Mr. Nation also votes as a rights holder. Mr. Roarck votes for Armquist. I vote for Sunshine. We’ll deal with it by way of secret ballot. In case of a tie, we’ll vote again. If we can’t agree after a second vote, we’ll select an outside party to break the tie.”

Saltzman cleared his throat.

“Before we vote, you’ve all got the prospectuses before you,” he waved at the portfolio binders in front of each of them. These contain the project description, the proposed financing model, series bible and relevant material. They also contain detailed background on each of the three candidates.”

Terry Nation looked to Burton.

“David,” he said, “we’ve got resumes, backgrounds, histories for each of the three candidates, including yourself. Do you feel that you’ve got fair treatment. We covered you fully?”

“It’s fair,” David grunted.

“And you’ve had a look at the other candidates too?”

“Yes.”

“Anything to add or take away,” Terry asked. “Or are they all, yourself included, properly summed up.”

“It’ proper,” David said reluctantly.

“All right then. Paul....”

Saltzman continued. “Before we vote, I’d like to give a rundown of each of the candidates, and assess their strengths and weaknesses.”

“The first up is David. David is arguably the strongest candidate, a least from an acting point of view. He’s played The New Doctor for three seasons and twenty-four episodes. We have a very clear idea of what he can and can’t do with the role. He certainly knows the character, and he’s been a one man band in terms of pushing the project along. We certainly wouldn’t be here without him.”

David nodded.

“On the other side of the coin, it’s been said that David is perhaps too attached to the part. He’s not known and certainly isn’t a name in either Canada or Australia. He’s a British citizen, so he’s not a particular advantage in terms of points for either country, though his nationality may help to sell to England. I think that there’s a question as to how much advantage David brings to the project. Normally, we’d stick with a star, but Doctor Who is well known for periodic replacements. So the question is.... can we do better.”

David glared.

“Our second candidate is a young Australian, Hugh Jackman. He’s young, 28 years old. He’s appeared mainly in Australia. He’s appeared in several television series, Law of the Land, Blue Heelers, Corelli. His principal advantages are points for Australia, and I think considerable talent and charisma. His drawback is that he’s not particularly well known now, but I think he’s going to be famous.”

Roarch, the Australian, made a point of pulling Jackman’s head shot out of the folder and laying it on the table.

“Our final candidate is Nigel Bennett. 47 years of age. British born, but moved to Canada in 1986, dual citizen. So he gets us points in the Canadian system, and maybe consideration in England. He’s extremely well accomplished, his credits go back to 1976, he’s extremely well known in the Canadian acting community, very good reputation, solid reliable performer. I’ll be honest and say that I’ve worked with him on Maximillian Glick. And he’s quite well known in ... certain circles, from his work on Forever Knight.”

Saltzman paused.

“David, I’m sorry to say, that he simply is objectively the better candidate. I say this with no disrespect to you at all, or the work that you’ve done. He’ll do a better job.”

Burton was stone faced. He nodded slightly to acknowledge Saltzman’s words.

“I thought this was a secret ballot,” Burton choked out.

“I don’t want there to be lies between us,” Saltzman said. “I hope you can respect my honesty.”

Burton nodded.

“Well,” Levine said, “since we’re putting cards on the table, I’ll say right now, I’m voting for David.”

Burton looked surprised.

“Anyone else want to say anything?” Levine asked.

They wrote their choices down on a pieces of paper and threw them in a cup.

Saltzman pulled out the papers and laid them out.

“Two for David,” he announced. “One for Bennett, one for Jackman.”

He leaned back.

“Does anyone want to change their vote?”

There was no answer.

“We’ll go again?”

Again, the slips of paper went into the cup.

“Two for David,” Saltzman announced again. “One for Bennett, one for Jackman.”

He sighed.

“Looks like it’s just me for Bennett,” he said finally. “I think he’s by far the best candidate, over both David and Jackman. But if it’s not Nigel, then I’d have to go with David. I think Hugh’s got major potential, but he’s too young, I don’t know that he’s ready to carry a series.”

He looked around.

“Anyone? Objections? Arguments?”

“David,” said Roarch, “and not because he’s sitting right here with us.”

“Terry?” Saltzman asked.

“David,” Nation grunted, not meeting Burton’s eyes.

“Then I guess it’s unanimous,” Saltzman said. “Congratulations, David.”

Burton looked shocked, his face was pale. He was almost trembling. Whatever he’d been going to say was forgotten, and now, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Thank you,” he said. “Even if we took the roundabout route, I’m glad to be the choice...”

He paused.

“The other two were good...” he choked up for a moment. “They were very good. But I’m glad... Anyway, thank you.”

He stood, and awkwardly, the others followed suit.

“There’s the matter,” Saltzmann said, “of supporting cast. Designating guest stars. Continuing and recurring characters. I know we don’t have scripts written yet. And we’ll need to select or at least discuss writers and directors.... David, would you like to participate?”

Burton’s pallor was fading. He was starting to look flushed.

“You know,” he said, “I think I’d like to get some air. If it’s all right.”

***