by E. M. Foner
“Are there any former participants from our LARP fashion shows whose weapons you aren’t enchanting for real-world use?”
“Judith wasn’t at Mac’s Bones when I stopped by to pick up Thomas and Chance’s swords, and Tzachan wanted me to sign something, so I told him to forget it. I’m thinking of loaning him a staff if he’ll agree to appear at Dorothy’s booth.”
“What’s done is done, but I don’t want you putting on any demonstrations without my knowledge in case something goes wrong,” Jeeves said. “In fact, I want to be there when you return the weapons to their owners to make sure they can wield them safely.”
“I’ve got good news about the trade show,” Shaina announced. “My husband wanted to stick us in the back corner, but the embassy’s Vergallian co-op student is taking over booth assignments for CoSHC. I talked her into giving us space on the main aisle, not far from the entrance.”
“How many folds?” Dorothy asked.
“And what’s a fold?” Affie added.
“A folding table,” Dorothy explained. “It’s the universal standard for trade shows. I’m surprised it never came up in your royal education.”
“I asked her for two folds,” Shaina said. “Aabina suggested eight set up in a square, so our booth will have access on two aisles rather than being backed up against somebody else who only took two tables. It means that if we keep the center area clear, there will be just enough space for a duel.”
“So eight folds only cost twice as much as two because the interior tables don’t have aisle access?” Jeeves asked.
“Well, it wasn’t cheap, but it’s in the budget, particularly now that we don’t have to buy Baa any noodle weapons to enchant.”
“Plus, there will be plenty of room for my booth-mates,” Dorothy said. “Marilla and Kevin can take one side to drum up interest in the ship rental business, and Thomas and Chance can take the other side to recruit for EarthCent Intelligence.”
“Which side does that leave us with?” Brinda asked.
“Oh, that’s a good point. Do you think we can get the square at the beginning of the aisle so we have access on three sides?”
“I’ll check with Aabina,” Shaina said.
“How much are we charging EarthCent Intelligence?” Jeeves inquired. “Paul asked me about sharing the booth to explore the spaceship rental market, but I haven’t heard an offer from Blythe.”
“Thomas and Chance can work it off by putting on demonstrations with the enchanted noodle weapons,” Dorothy said. “Don’t you love it when everything just sort of fits together?”
“I love it when I actually get a return on my investment,” Jeeves grumbled. “Do you have a program in mind for the demonstration?”
“Since it looks like we have to please the Grenouthians, musical accompaniment won’t do. I’m not going to play one of their twangy ballads, and they hate our music. I guess I’ll have to write a script and find an announcer.”
“We better get back to work then,” Flazint said, standing up and pulling Dorothy along with her. “Come on, Affie. Baa. Our employers probably have important financial matters to discuss.”
As soon as the door of the design room slid closed behind them, the Terragram threw a ball of fire at the wall above the bench where she did most of her enchantments. It dissipated harmlessly, though the metal surface glowed briefly.
“That young Stryx gets me so frustrated!” Baa declared. “I wouldn’t mind as much if he was a few hundred thousand years older, but having a child for a minder makes me crazy. Does he really think I’m stupid enough to put dangerous enchantments on weapons that could get me kicked off the station?”
“I think he’s just trying to be helpful,” Affie said. “Besides, he’s the one that Gryph would hold responsible in the end.”
“So now I’m a charity case.”
“None of us would ever think that,” Dorothy told the irate mage. “You know that without your enchantments our sales wouldn’t even be growing at this point. The only reason we’re even taking a booth at the trade show is to expand your part of the business.”
“That was interesting what you said about tapping into the station’s power grid,” Flazint said. “Does that mean if you arranged with Gryph ahead of time you could enchant items faster?”
“Depends,” Baa replied. “If you’re talking about a simple enchantment, like increasing the available space inside of a purse for LARPs, I could handle a hundred at a time if I wasn’t worried about power consumption. But the bonuses that I’m adding to the noodle weapons are specific to each, so I can only do one at a time.”
“That’s the oldest question in fashion,” Dorothy said. “Is it better to be exclusive and sell at high prices, or to mass produce and capture market share?”
“Unless another fashion house can get a Terragram mage to come work for them, we’re probably safe on being exclusive,” Affie pointed out.
“I watched too many Vergallian dramas while I was home with the baby and there are tons of commercials for cross-over fashions now. You see plenty of kids wandering around the station in costumes these days. Just a year ago, they would have changed into their regular clothes after the LARP before going out in the corridors, but now, I swear people who aren’t even role players are wandering around dressed as elves and barbarians.”
“I’ve noticed that on the Frunge deck as well,” Flazint said. “It’s like every day is Sun Day.”
“That reminds me,” Affie said. “There’s a festival on the Vergallian deck this weekend and you guys should really come and hang out. Everybody will be wearing the latest fashions from the empire and it’s always fun to see drama fans acting out their favorite scenes. Let’s pick a time that works for all of us.”
“When is your weekend?” Dorothy asked.
“Starts in a couple of hours, but the real fun isn’t until tomorrow. Say, nine in the evening on your clock?”
“I can go, but it’s morning for me so I won’t drink,” Flazint said.
“Baa?” Affie asked.
“You’re inviting me?” The Terragram mage placed the purse she was about to enchant on her workbench and turned back to the girls. “You want me to come with you?”
“Sure. Does the time work for you?”
“Anytime works for me, I don’t sleep.” Baa hesitated for a moment, and then asked, “Does this mean you think of me as a friend?”
“I do,” Dorothy replied without hesitation. “What’s the big deal? You must have had friends before.”
“Not since my heart was stolen,” Baa replied. “There were a few girls I used to hang out with in a pantheon back on—it’s not important. It didn’t end well.”
“What did you do for fun?”
“Fight, mainly. You know, thunderbolts and proxy armies of worshippers. When I look back at it now, I have to wonder if I was sane.”
“You spend too much time working,” Affie said. “It will help with your creativity to get out and have some fun. Just don’t, uh—”
“I won’t,” the Terragram mage promised. “If I wear one of my LARPing outfits with a veil, nobody will even know that it’s me.”
“I’ll see you all tomorrow, then,” Dorothy said. “I told Kevin I’d come home and watch his chandler’s shop and the baby so he can help with the rentals they’re trying to get ready before the conference.”
Flazint followed the ambassador’s daughter out into the corridor before asking, “Can I talk to you for a minute before you go, Dorothy?”
“Sure. Why so serious?”
“It’s about Tzachan.”
“You’re having problems? You want me to straighten him out?”
“What are you—no, just listen. I’ve been hinting to my ancestors for cycles that I want them to get a move on and start some preliminary negotiations with Tzachan’s family tree, but you know what old Frunge are like.”
“Creaky,” Dorothy acknowledged.
“So Tzachan and I have talked about trying
to speed things up by getting a matchmaker involved.”
“What’s the point of hiring a matchmaker when the match is already made? You’ll just be throwing your money away.”
“We don’t get married without a matchmaker’s help, it’s just a question of when you bring one in. Most Frunge attorneys won’t even talk to you about a marriage contract unless you have a draft prepared by a matchmaker first. And the matchmakers are the ones who administer all the tests.”
“Why does love have to be so complicated?”
“Love isn’t complicated,” Flazint said. “Family is complicated. I hate bringing up how much longer than you we live, but we have to deal with the consequences of our choices for hundreds of years. It’s worth taking the time to get it right.”
“So when are you going to the matchmaker?”
“I can’t go!” Flazint exclaimed, her hair vines turning dark green. “It isn’t done that way.”
“So when is Tzachan going?”
“He can’t go either. You’re going to make me come right out and say it, aren’t you?”
“I guess so, since I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”
“If I wanted the matchmaker to find me somebody it would be different. But when there’s already a potential suitor, a responsible matron who knows both parties has to vouch for the match.”
“Isn’t that like a woman who runs an orphanage? I think I remember some matrons in my mom’s old books.”
“Is there something wrong with your implant?” Flazint asked in frustration, stamping her foot for emphasis. “A matron is a respectable married woman with a child.”
“I think this is one of those cases where we don’t have exactly equivalent words,” Dorothy mused.
“Are you being purposely obtuse? I want you to go to the matchmaker for us.”
“Me? Would a Frunge matchmaker even talk to an alien? I thought they were super traditional.”
“They are, but you aren’t just any alien. You work with me, your mother is an ambassador, and most importantly—” Flazint hesitated for a moment, “—you got married under Frunge law.”
“I thought we agreed never to bring that up again,” Dorothy hissed.
“It didn’t make any difference in the end. You still had your big wedding, and you have a beautiful baby to prove it.”
“Do you really think this will work?”
“It has to work. If it doesn’t, I’ll be lucky if Tzachan and I get married before Margie does.”
“Ouch, that is a long time to wait. Well, I don’t suppose the matchmaker will eat me. Ping me with her contact information.”
“Thank you, Dorothy. I’ll owe you forever. Oh, and don’t forget to bring the baby with you, I’m counting on her to close the deal.”
“Bring Margie to Frunge matchmaker. Got it.”
“And your companionship contract, with the scroll from Ailia witnessing that the conditions were met. Better bring the dog too, just to be safe.”
“How about Kevin?”
“Of course you have to bring your husband. What would the matchmaker think if you showed up without him?”
“I don’t know, Flazint. I’m not a Frunge matchmaker. You better have Tzachan brief us on what to expect before we go in or we could end up making matters worse.”
Ten
Shaina found her husband’s hand on the armrest and twined her fingers through his. “I haven’t been this nervous since we got married.”
“How about Mike’s first day on the show?” Daniel asked.
“That was different. Your son is an extrovert.”
“My son? What did he do now?”
“He and Fenna went backstage with Grace to keep her company, but I just know that he’s giving her bad advice.”
A large Dollnick lifted up the armrest between two seats to Shaina’s left and dropped his bulk down with a groan. “Why are we so close to the stage?” he complained. “I’m going to get dizzy turning my head back and forth to take it all in.”
“Actually, you’re in the wrong seat,” Shaina told him. “I know because they’re reserved for my son and Aisha’s daughter.”
“Aisha’s daughter sits here?” The Dolly sprang up, but then he looked at the tag on the edge of the seat and thrust a plastic chit at Daniel with one of his lower arms. “The numbers match up.”
“Eighteen and nineteen,” the associate ambassador agreed. “The Grenouthians must have made a mistake.”
“Let me see,” Shaina said, pulling her husband’s whole arm over rather than taking the tickets from him. “Upper level. You’re in the first row on the balcony.”
“Balcony?” The Dollnick scanned the back of the studio and clapped both sets of hands in relief. “Excellent. I’ll have a much better view from there.”
“Why would he complain about sitting in front?” Shaina asked her husband as the towering alien moved away.
“Field of view, I guess. I’ve heard that some of the Dollys from the old engineering families develop a sort of tunnel vision from staring at the details on large structures all of the time.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a survival skill.”
“I think their peripheral vision is fine, better than ours, but when they concentrate on a particular object, their field of view narrows and the magnification increases.”
“I’ll stick with squinting.”
“Aisha’s almost ready to start,” Mike reported excitedly as he took the seat next to his mother. “I thought that Grace was going to cry, but she’s too busy keeping Twitchy from panicking to remember to be scared herself.”
“If you keep calling your sister’s Stryx friend by that name the poor thing will end up with a complex,” Shaina said.
“She is twitchy,” Mike reiterated stubbornly. ”Just like Spinner always spun around when he got nervous or excited.”
“I miss Spinner,” Fenna said. “Why’d he have to go away?”
“All of the young Stryx go off to explore the multiverse,” Daniel said, speaking across Shaina and Mike. “Jeeves is the exception.”
The lights in the giant studio blinked three times, and a harried-looking bunny hopped up on the stage.
“All right, calm down,” he shouted at the audience, all of whom were already settled in their seats and waiting quietly. “Some of you have been here before, but I’m going to run through the rules for the newcomers. That—” he pointed dramatically at a blank display above the stage, “—is an applause sign. When it comes on, you applaud. Shall we do a test?” The display lit up with ‘Applause’ in a dozen languages, but nobody responded. “Very funny,” the bunny growled. “So funny that I might have to cancel the traditional free catering after our new cast debut. Shall we try again?”
This time, the applause sign was met with storms of clapping, whistling, foot stomping, and belly drumming. It took the Grenouthian almost a minute of patting down the air with his outstretched arms to get the audience to stop.
“That’s better. The name of the show is ‘Let’s Make Friends,’ so if you’re here for the news, you’re in the wrong studio.” A smattering of polite laughter met this poor attempt at a joke. “Right. Anybody who disrupts the show will be removed, and don’t get any smart ideas about becoming famous across the galaxy by running onto the stage because security will stop you with extreme prejudice.”
“Is he new?” Daniel whispered to his wife.
“He looks familiar. Maybe he was the assistant to the assistant when Mike was on the show.”
“I’m the assistant director, which means I’m in charge here,” the bunny continued. “If you have any questions or emergencies, remember that our feed is going out live on the Stryxnet, so save them for after the show.”
A loud chime was heard, and the Grenouthian turned away from the audience and hurried over to the stage entrance. A moment later, Aisha came out in her favorite show sari, and the audience exploded with genuine applause. She gave everybody a smile and
a wave, exchanged a few words with the assistant director, and ducked backstage again. Another chime sounded, and the status lights on immersive cameras positioned around the stage lit up. A few seconds later, the theme music started to play, and the bunny dove off the stage just as Aisha made her entrance.
“Welcome to Let’s Make Friends,” the host began to speak as the music faded. “Tonight we have a new cast rotation, plus special surprise guests, one of whom has never been on the show before. Also for the first time, the younger sibling of a former cast member will be joining our new rotation, so why don’t we all give her a big round of applause.”
Shaina’s grip on her husband’s hand tightened to the point that he was certain that the bones were grinding together. Their six-year-old daughter peeked around the curtain at the audience and then ran out to where Aisha was standing. It appeared that the little girl wanted to get the introduction over with as quickly as possible.
“Do you want to tell us your name?” Aisha asked, putting a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“Princess,” she said in a loud whisper.
The audience gave her a friendly round of applause, though there was also a certain amount of whispering among the Dollnicks and Vergallians, for whom royal titles carried significant meaning.
“This is your fault,” Shaina hissed at her husband. “How many times have I told you that if you always call her ‘Princess’ she’ll think it’s her real name.”
Aisha waited for the applause to die down before asking, “Do you have another name?”
The girl scrunched up her eyes and tried to guess what the host was fishing for. “Cohan?”
Offstage, the assistant director tapped his furry foot impatiently, and Aisha decided it wasn’t fair to make the other children wait.
“Do you have a special friend of your own who you’d like to introduce?” she prompted Grace.
“Twitchy,” the little girl said, looking hopefully at the curtains. For a moment nothing happened, and then a little Stryx floated out on an odd angle, as if her robotic body had been knocked off kilter by a shove. “Over here,” Grace called, waving excitedly.
