by John Ringo
“Lead the way, fair maiden,” Kelly said. “Fortunately, my wife is a director and busy in the Hyatt, two hotels away. And, of course, nobody ever gossips at Dragon*Con. I should be safe.”
* * *
“I can’t wear this in public!” Doris said, holding up the harem-girl pants. They were, essentially, transparent.
“Well, maybe not with a thong,” Kelly said. “Unless you’re willing to really let it all hang out.”
“I don’t w…I don’t ha…” Doris stammered. “I can’t wear this in public! I thought it would have more coverage than this!”
“You’re thinking I Dream of Jeannie.” Heki was a short woman with a lined face and black hair shot with white. “That would look fabulous on you, dear.”
“Kelly, I’m sorry I dragged you along,” Doris said, shaking her head. “But I can’t try this on. Not and let anyone see it.”
“If you don’t let anyone see it, you’re not going to wear it tonight,” Kelly said. “It’s not that bad.”
“I dunno…” Doris said.
“If you really want, I’ll shut my eyes,” Kelly said. “And there’s always gaming. You’re dressed for that. If baggy shirts and jeans are what you want to dress like, you don’t have to wear a harem-girl outfit. Don’t let people pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, being somebody you don’t feel comfortable being.”
“That’s a good point,” Doris said, frowning.
“You want to think about it?” Kelly asked. “I know where there’s a Magic tournament.”
“No,” Doris said, her face hardening. “I’m going to do it.”
“Up to you,” Kelly said, indifferently.
* * *
A few minutes later, Doris came out of the dressing room. She’d had to ask Heki to help her out with a few of the fittings, and there’d been a certain amount of giggling and bell ringing from the dressing stall.
“What do you think?” Doris asked, uncertainly.
“I take it back,” Kelly squeaked.
“Take what back?” Doris asked, worriedly.
“I take back what I said,” Kelly squeaked, then cleared his throat. “You should wear that all the time. I mean, All. The. Time.”
“Kelly, my eyes are up here,” Doris said after an uncomfortable delay.
“I’ve made my decision.”
The outfit was complete, from slippers to pink gauze pantaloons to mildly opaque red vest with gauze sleeves and silver bells to headdress with more bells. And included a totally opaque silk veil.
“I can’t do this.”
“You look great.”
“Then quit undressing me with your eyes!”
“I don’t have to undress you with my eyes, Doris.”
A crowd had gathered by the simple expedient of the first guy who glanced to the side and stopped, stunned. He, in turn, was bumped by another guy who looked the same way. At this point there were at least a dozen males all gazing at Doris, slack-mouthed. And about half as many female companions glaring at her.
“That’s it,” Doris said. “Not gonna do it.”
“Doris,” Kelly said. “Seriously. You should. You look like a million dollars, and with the veil, nobody will know it’s you.”
“Everybody’s staring at me!” Doris whispered.
“Honey,” Heki said, sighing, “that’s the point.”
“Doris, up to you,” Kelly said. “Gaming’s still an option. But I’ve never seen anyone who looks as good as you in one of those. And the veil is totally opaque.” He paused for a moment then shrugged. “Of course, it’s the only part that is.”
“Not helping.”
“Up to you.”
Doris thought about it for a moment, trying to ignore the stares, then shrugged.
“How much?”
* * *
“I need better underwear,” she said as they left the Dealers Room. The entire harem-girl costume fit in a very small bag, which was all that anyone needed to say about it.
“With that I will agree,” Kelly said. “But it really is a stunning outfit.”
“I could tell by the look of dead fish on all the guys’ faces,” Doris said, chuckling.
“Deer in headlights, surely.”
“Nope, dead fish. Round, unblinking, dead eyes. And I don’t think they sell underwear in the Dealers Room.”
“There’s a mall across the street.”
“Let’s go shopping.”
* * *
Doris waited in the shadow of one of the potted plants, hoping for a friendly face. She’d made one more trip to Heki’s shop and picked up a long, full-coverage, dark-blue hooded cloak. Which was the only reason she’d been able to step out of Folsom’s room after changing.
Parked where she was, she should be able to see anyone going into the Hyatt. But she was also virtually invisible. What with the books about a certain magic school, hooded cloaks were everywhere.
She’d settle for Mandy or Kelly. Even Traxa. Anybody she knew. Fortunately, she spotted Daphne.
“Pssst,” she whispered over the din of the smoking area. “Daphne. Daphne!”
“Yes?” Daphne said to the hooded figure.
“It’s Doris,” Doris stage-whispered.
“Doris, why are you hiding in the shadows in a hooded cloak?” Daphne asked, grinning. “Shall we promenade?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Come ’ere.”
When Daphne came over, Doris maneuvered herself so her back was to the crowd, and opened up the cloak.
“Oh my God!” Daphne said, covering her mouth and trying desperately not to giggle. “Oh my God, Doris! That is shameless!”
“But I’m not,” Doris said, pulling the cloak back around her. Tight. “This was a bad idea. I blame Kelly. I don’t think I can do this! I’ll go change into…”
“Baggy jeans and T-shirt?” Daphne said. “If you want. Where’d you get it?”
“In the Dealers Room. I found some money in my backpack.”
“Well, you’ve spent the money on it and it looks absolutely stunning,” Daphne said, frowning. “I could never wear it. But you wear it very well.”
“I’m not sure I can wear it in public, though.”
“You like to dance, right?” Daphne asked.
“Yeah. That’s why I got it.”
“Could you wear it if you were dancing?”
“Maybe.”
“Be right back.”
* * *
“Okay, I’ve fixed it with security,” Daphne said, coming back and taking Doris’s elbow. “Keep the cloak on and come with me.”
“Security?” Doris asked.
“They don’t like people working for a large crowd,” Daphne said, leading her into the interior on the same level as the smoking plaza.
“Aren’t we supposed to go…?” Doris said, sticking a hand out to gesture up to the lobby. The lower level was already fairly crowded with costumers and picture-takers.
“No pictures up there and definitely no sticking in one place,” Daphne said, leading her to the back of the large room. At the back was a young man in Middle-Eastern, dress sitting on the floor surrounded by drums. Doris vaguely recognized him as one of the drummers from the previous night.
“You sure we’re not going to get in trouble?” the kid said.
“I told you, I know Mike,” Daphne said. “No more than thirty, forty-five minutes, and if it gets too crowded we’ll have to shut down.”
“What are we doing?” Doris asked.
“You are dancing,” Daphne replied. “Wait until the drums start to take off your cloak. Right.” She cleared her throat and raised her voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, come one, come all to the most amazing demonstration of dance you have ever seen in your life! She will amaze and astound you with her virtuosity and beauty! Gold is preferable,” she added, sweeping off her hat and holding it out. “Silver is acceptable! Is that a copper piece I see there, young man! No copper for her! This is: the amazing Doris!”
The drums started up and Doris took a deep, cleansing breath, then swept off the cloak. For a moment she thought her ears were going to pop from the inhalations, then the flashes started going off. She ignored those, and the wolf whistles, and started dancing.
* * *
“I think there’s, like, fifty bucks in this hat,” Daphne said when security had broken up the crowd. It was a necessity, they were getting twenty deep.
“There was just something…right about getting paid to dance,” Doris said. “I never thought I’d say those words, though.”
“There’s even a gold coin,” Daphne said, pulling it out. The coin was so old and worn it was hard to tell what the original denomination was.
“Where’d that come from?” Doris asked.
“Death, I think,” Daphne said, gesturing at the hooded figure with the scythe who was being led away by security. “Probably got it off the eyes of a dead king. You can have it.”
“Heh.”
“Let’s divvy it up and then promenade,” Daphne said. “Sinbad, you good for a twenty?”
“Works,” the drummer said. “I can’t remember the last time I got paid. Oh, yeah. Mosul, 1648.”
“Funny,” Doris replied.
“Think you can walk around in that now?” Daphne asked.
“Yeah, I think I can.”
“You’re a brave, brave girl,” Daphne said, chuckling.
They headed upstairs, stopping every few feet for pictures, and finally reached the lobby. Despite the picture-taking ban, quite a few people were up there in costume simply to be admired.
“Whoa!” Doris said, stopping to look at one of the outfits. The woman was nearly as tall as she, with equally red hair, and wore a magnificent laser-cut leather bodice and bikini bottom that were formed like demon hands. The matching leather wings were, if anything, more amazing. The demon horns were quite unnecessary.
“That’s an amazing costume,” Doris said, smiling at her.
“Yes,” the woman replied. “And it doesn’t make me look like a slut.”
“Excuse me?” Doris said, stunned.
“Piss off, trash,” the woman said, ignoring her.
“That’s Garnet,” Daphne said, quietly, drawing Doris away. “I’d better warn you, that’s your main competition for Dawn this year. And that outfit is just what she’s wearing for her hall costume. I can’t imagine what her Dawn costume is going to look like.”
“Oh,” Doris said in a small voice.
“Don’t let her get to you, though,” Daphne said. “She knows you’re going to be in Dawn and she’s trying to get to you. She’s always like that.”
“Well, sometimes people can be sort of prickly on the outside…”
“Don’t think it,” Daphne said, shaking her head. “She’s a bitch all the way to the core.”
“Oh.”
“She’s going to do anything she can get away with to make sure she wins Dawn,” Daphne said. “If you let her get to you, she will. Don’t.”
“Okay,” Doris said, nodding. “I won’t. Screw her.”
“That’s the spirit.”
* * *
She changed in Duncan’s room again. The harem-girl costume fit comfortably in her backpack, but she fingered the material for a bit before stuffing it away. She had no clue the next time she’d get to wear it, but she was looking forward to it. Kelly had been right, she looked very hot in a harem-girl outfit. And not at all like a slut.
Looking hot, knowing she looked hot, had never been something she could even imagine. It felt good to be appreciated. It was amazing the changes that had been wrought on her in just a few days. The fact that she could take an insult like the one that Garnet woman had thrown at her and more or less ignore it, proved that.
But that brought up the question of Dawn. Kelly had said that it was getting to be more and more of a costume contest, and even with the money she had left from her find, there was no way she could create a really outstanding outfit by tomorrow. Which meant she needed an edge…
Hmmm…
She picked up the practice sword Edmund had given her and hefted it. Then she picked up her backpack and left the room.
There had to be somewhere in this gigantic hotel where she could be alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Hi, I’m Doris,” Doris said, sitting down. “What’s your name?”
“Hi, Doris, I’m Folsom,” Duncan said, laughing. “You’re looking chipper.”
“Nervous energy and caffeine,” Doris said.
“You haven’t been dancing all night again, have you?”
“Yes,” Doris said. “But this time I cheated. After I changed—thanks for letting me use your room again—I snuck into one of the meeting rooms that wasn’t being used and danced by myself. Well, sort of,” she added cryptically. “I was practicing for Dawn.”
“I thought you were just supposed to parade out there and show yourself off,” Duncan said, puzzled.
“You have up to one minute to do whatever you want,” Doris said. “And at the judges’ discretion, it can go longer. I read the rules carefully.”
“And you’re hoping for the judge’s discretion,” Duncan said. “That’s ballsy. Ovarian, in your case. What are you going to do?”
“It’s a secret,” Doris said. “But thank you for introducing me to Fig.”
“She’s a nice lady and Edmund likes pretty girls around,” Folsom said, shrugging. “I try to keep on their good side. You’re really not going to tell me.”
“Nope,” Doris said, thinking hard. “I need to go to the Dealers Room and the Exhibitors Hall and pick up some stuff. Then I need to find Fig and Bran, in that order. Then I’m going to be busy, busy, busy.”
“Then you’re going to need a good breakfast,” Duncan said, signaling for a waiter. “My treat.”
“I found some money in my backpack,” Doris said. “I can buy this time.”
“One meal won’t break me,” Duncan said. “Seriously. And you should save that money. I suspect you’re going to need all of it.”
“Feeling like a leech, I accept,” Doris said.
“You’re not a leech,” Folsom said, smiling faintly. “I feel that I owe you, not the other way around.”
“Why?” Doris asked.
“I think you’ll understand someday,” Folsom replied, shrugging. “Or perhaps you’ll forget.”
“Never,” Doris said. “I could never forget any of this. It’s going to be burned into my memory forever. This has been the greatest experience of my life. Do you know the best part?”
“What?” Duncan asked, grinning at her enthusiasm.
“Today is my birthday,” Doris said, grinning back. “And I’m going to win the Dawn contest. Guarantee it.”
* * *
Bran looked at the sketch and the list and his eyebrows went up.
“Can you do this?” he asked.
“I saw the basic dress and the shoes over at the mall yesterday,” Doris said in a rush. “Assuming they’re still there, yes. I’ve got the money to cover both. The rest of it is just sewing. I can buy the material, now.”
“Don’t worry about the material,” Bran said. “I’ve got emotional investment in this if nothing else. But I don’t know if some of this is necessary. And it’s going to take a long time.”
“I can do it,” Doris said. “I have to. I’ll be over in the mall for a bit, then if you don’t mind, I’ll use your room.”
“That’s fine,” Bran said, handing over the sketch and then a key. “I’ll be here most of the day. Good luck. I’ll be sure to be at the contest.”
* * *
“Do I look like some sort of messenger?” Traxa said as she entered the room. “Go to Fig and get this. Go to the mall and get that. I’ve got other things to do at this con, you know!”
“All I can say is thank you,” Doris said, concentrating on her sewing. “Or, thank you, thank you, thank you. This is taking longer than I’d expected.”
T
he costume she’d settled on was a modified Egyptian look. The name was “Dawn, Warrior of the East,” and the dual swords gave it a nice eastern look.
“I’m not sure you need much more than the dress,” Mandy said, pulling at the fabric. “That right there is an invitation to rape.”
She intended to do a very sedate sword dance as part of the presentation, but it still had to be a very…mobile dress. One of the more popular shops in the mall, at least during Dragon*Con, was one that normally supplied to exotic dancers. The dress had come from that shop. As had the shoes, which were more sturdy and practical than they looked.
“You’ve seen the costumes,” Doris said, picking up another “appliance” and sewing it on. The added parts gave the base dress a look of semi-armor. It wasn’t nearly as ornate as some of the other costumes, but she was counting on the sword dance to put her over the top.
“And I don’t think the veil is a good idea,” Anita said, nonetheless working on same. “The judges want to see faces nearly as much as bodies. Remember the rule about hair over one eye.”
“I’ll take it off eventually,” Doris said. “The shoes match the costume match the headdress. With the sword dance, it should be enough. I just look more like Dawn than any of the other contestants, including Garnet. And is it just me, or does she look a little long in the tooth for the Dawn contest?”
“And she’s older than she looks,” Mandy said. She caught a glare from Anita and shrugged. “Well, she is.”
“Garnet’s ascendant,” Anita said. “Getting on the bad side of an ascendant…”
“Garnet thinks she’s ascendant,” Mandy snapped. “But she cannot ascend without winning Dawn. And with all the bad blood she’s been creating, if she doesn’t ascend she’s in for a world of hurt.”
“Forgive me for trying to maintain some semblance of neutrality,” Anita snapped back.
“And forgive me for thinking ‘neutrality’ is just another word for cowardice!”
“Well, I remember what happened the last time!”
“What are you girls arguing about?” Doris said, looking up from her gluing.
“Nothing,” they replied in chorus.
* * *
“You ever get the feeling you’re being led around by the nose?” Sharice asked.