Hell, In a Troy (Lopez Time Book 2)

by Phillip S. Power

  The people looked more or less normal, anyway.

  The building, the inside of it, was nice enough. On the floor, there was wall to wall carpet, done in a nice red with black flecks in it. The whole place smelled clean, and a bit like air freshener. There were worse things, so he looked around a bit more carefully. The walls were covered in paper that was also red and black, making the theme a bit too much, actually. As if the designer hadn’t had enough taste to do the job.

  Troy was nearly certain that he could have done better. For instance, wood was a good look for things like that. Even gold wallpaper would have worked. Probably for the same price, if that were a problem to be thought about. Except that, when he looked up a bit, there were crystal chandeliers. Those looked nice. Like waterfalls of glass, that glowed in places. Electric lights making the whole thing sparkle and shine beautifully.

  Eve, dressed in the clothing that she’d worn to the meeting, which was a button up shirt and nice black slacks that hugged her behind nicely but flowed a bit around the calves, moved forward. What she was wearing matched the space a lot better than what he had on at the moment. The people working didn’t stare at him though. Mark and Warren had moved off already. Not out of earshot though.

  That bit was interesting, since a feminine voice spoke to them, directly.

  “Hey. Eve and other Troy?” He looked around but the person that spoke was standing all the way across the room. She’d spoken like a real person, not shouting like a goon. Troy smiled and waved at the woman there, who walked over. She was dressed in a white smock, complete with a white hat on her head. The lumpy kind that indicated she was in food service.

  There was a wave back though.

  They waited for her to get to them but the woman spoke instantly.

  “I’m Kerry. Warren put me in charge of the bar tonight. Would it be all right to go over that? We don’t have a lot of people for it, I’m afraid. I’ll be doing it, plus both of you and Tobin. He doesn’t really know how though. I can show you what to do, if that’s…” She looked at him then and flushed.

  The look on her face seemed to be saying that telling the hired help what to do seemed mean to her.

  “I tended bar in a club for several years. I managed the place. The bar and the club, after a while. What I don’t know is if the drinks are all called the same things. How many people are we expecting, on the customer side?”

  The snubbed nosed lady, who was cute, and wearing just enough makeup to show that she cared about looking nice, without actually trying to hide who she was, smiled. It was a slightly desperate thing.

  “You can actually work a bar?” She moved in and touched his arm. “Thank god! I barely know how to open up a can of beer. I don’t drink. I have a book on mixed drinks but…”

  Troy nodded. The bar was, after a fashion, his area of expertise.

  “Nifty. I can take the lead on that then? If that isn’t stepping on your toes? Can I see what we’re working with? That and get a time range we’re going to be working in? If we need anything…” Well, they’d work it out, if that was the case.

  The woman took a deep breath then.

  “We should be all right? I hope. The hotel did the ordering, and they do this kind of stuff. The problem is that we can’t just hire people for an event like this. Not working with… You know, Infected people from the IPB. Things are a lot better now but we still have to worry about terrorists. Avery… You know her?”

  It was an interesting question. Eve nodded, her face calm and relaxed.

  “We do. She’s a line walker. My adopted daughter on top of that. Troy is… I don’t know what the relationship is there. Are you hitting that yet, Troy?” She looked interested, as if that might actually be the real answer. Which was bizarre.

  “Nope. It hasn’t even been an option. We do have things in common though. We’re both line walkers… She has no sex drive, I have no sex drive… Really, we’re nearly perfect for each other. She is really sweet, I have to admit.”

  There was a funny, slightly baffled look from the new woman but Eve just winked at him from the side of her eye.

  “I was wondering. I mean, she’s been hanging out in your city a lot lately. She’s also mentioned you a few times. I can’t tell for certain but she is single now.”

  The woman in white made a sour face and shook her head.

  “Not to be… I mean, you’re obviously a good-looking man, given that you look exactly like my boyfriend but isn’t she a little young for you? She’s what, seventeen now?”

  There was a wave to the side, where the bar was, in the giant ball room. Troy didn’t know if that was the actual name for it but it had to be something along those lines. The set up was long for a bar. About thirty feet of space, which didn't sound like a lot but if they only had four people to run the whole thing, and three of those were actually servers, that was going to be a problem.

  Well, it actually wouldn’t be, for him, since he did have super human speed. That hadn’t been a thing that he’d worked with before. When he’d been at the bar, it had been as a human. Sure, he’d been quick about it but having a person that could get drinks every ten feet could make a difference. It would depend on what the set up was supposed to be.

  Before he could start in on the actual job, Eve bobbed her head back and forth, a bit playfully.

  “Avery is five or six hundred years old. Sure, Troy is... What, seven or eight hundred?” She asked it as a real question and stopped talking, to indicate that he should answer. For real.

  It was the truth but wasn’t the sort of thing he normally brought up in public. It was easier to claim to be thirty, in most cases.

  “About that. It’s hard to know. I have to admit, I hadn’t really been thinking of Avery in that way. She’s still in high school, so I figured that my perv points could wait for her to at least graduate. I know that she’s out of school now…” What he didn't know was if Eve knew about that yet.

  Interestingly, as they got near the bar, with Troy trying to assess what they had going on, Kerry made a snorting sound that reminded him a bit of Denise from work.

  “That’s different then. I knew about the school thing. Marcia Turner mentioned it to me. That part was strange, I have to tell you. I mean, why would she talk to me about things like that? I think I was just there at the right time for it, to tell the truth. She was spit balling ideas as to how to steal Avery from you for our world. She’s incredibly popular. Red Rain is one of the top shows and Cooking Alt-Real is tying up with Steinberg and Friends in the ratings. It would be a coup for the IPB to get her in full time. Even part time is making us look cool, I have to say. We have, like half a dozen popular Infected people now. Not that she’s Infected but she turns into a dragon, so that counts.”

  Troy nodded, smiling a bit. He didn't get most of what was said. Not past what anyone with half a brain would have gotten. Avery was on a couple of shows. Those, it seemed, were playing there, in the IPB world, as well. Infected meant having powers. Rather than claim he understood, or didn’t care, he locked eyes with the woman for a moment.

  “Neat. It looks like we have… Pretty normal things here. A nice mix of base beverages, the normal mixers… We need to get ice in and check the glasses. We might need to wash them first. Places like this tend to have notoriously bad washing habits. Is it all right if I go behind this and check things out?” He didn’t want to be pushy but if they didn’t change the topic, it would end up being a gossip fest, instead of getting the job done.

  The lady actually nodded, getting what he meant. It probably had to do with his tone, which was a bit terse, suddenly. Not that he’d wanted to come across like a jerk to her or anything.

  “We open the door in two hours. At seven-thirty. There’s no dinner being served but there will be people passing out things to eat. Crackers and things like that? We have their people working with us. Just volunteers from the base. Denis is running that for us.” She made a face then. “Den Tompkins. He’s on the cook
ing show with us. You…” She smiled then.

  Eve did too, picking up the whole thing before Troy did.

  “Heh. I’ve seen it. Denis is good. He was on Cooking Alt-Real a bit, too. That one was mainly Avery and Will Baker.”

  Troy hadn’t seen any of it, to be fair, so didn’t get the idea.

  “Sounds great. I’m sure that we can work with that. We don’t have real wait staff? I mean, volunteers are good but… Does anyone have experience?”

  That got a head shake.

  “I don’t really think so. This… Honestly, we only set this up a month ago, and don’t have a real budget for it. The new President decided not only to come into town but that the IPB should host a big meet and greet, away from the new base. This is mainly about all the people from other realities coming in… So, you know, we have some people coming from different worlds, to prance out like they were ponies.”

  That made sense to Troy. Even not having him do that did. Eve should have probably been on display but that was only because she’d done a lot of things like that. He’d done a lot more with the Vampire Council directly.

  “Cool. I need to do a quick inventory. What kind of numbers are coming in? Do you have that? Even a guess is better than nothing.” He was kind of bad at things like that.

  The day had shown him that one already. He was still thinking that they might have a hundred people for the picnic. Almost everyone else was thinking it would be closer to a thousand or even two. The food would have to be far over that, just in case. Just like they needed toilets for more than could possibly show up, even if it was wasting money. Doing anything else was asking for trouble.

  The woman, who looked slightly plump but was actually muscular on closer inspection, shrugged at him.

  “Two hundred, give or take? The real number is expected to be about a hundred and seventy but we have some people coming in from other realities and a few of them tend to bring in entourages. Guards that they try to pretend are their cousins and dates, mainly.”

  Looking at the stock, he nodded. Even if they were huge lushes, they had enough stock for those kind of numbers.

  Looking in the fridge, then under the bar and in the cupboards behind the back work counter, he nodded.

  “We need lemons. Or… Let me look at the guidebook?” That one was a bit nerve wracking but it was sitting on the counter. Inside, with a quick look, he realized something. A great thing, for him. “Okay. Whew. Drinks are done exactly the same way here as at home. I can make all of these. At least with the book here.” He had most of them in his memory but the club, while they did mixed drinks, mainly served beer and things on the rocks. That and appletinis.

  For some reason those had become incredibly popular at one point.

  “So, we need lemons. At least twenty of them. Limes… We have olives, so that works. The hard bottles look good… Eve, come help me get this set up. Do we have a bar back room, or are we hiding this under a tarp? There’s going to be extra for a bit.” There was no hint at how long the whole thing would last but he had until Monday morning, if it was needed.

  Eve wasn’t a great bar tender, and needed to be directed as for getting work done but she was fast and didn't stop. Or get pissed when he told her to do things differently. For a vampire, that was kind of hard core. She could back hand him through a wall. Or two. He tried not to be mean about it all but they had a time limit, meaning he snapped at her a few times.

  “You’re doing fine. Actually, better than that. I just don’t have you trained to do what I want yet, so you get the idea. New kid flu.” That’s what he always called it.

  It was just what all new people had. They moved slow, because they didn’t know what to do. That or they thought they did and hadn’t learned it yet. Almost every new person had it. The disease varied in how long it lasted but it was part of why he’d served as a patrolman for half a year before being moved to the new task force. He’d had to get over his growing pains, with his training officer.

  He thought about the man, who was black. His name was…

  Troy honestly couldn’t recall it at the moment. That bugged him but only a bit. After a moment, he got busy again. Kerry came back with five bowls of fruit. It wasn’t prepped yet but a lot of it would have to be done live, if they had a chance. There were lemons, which could be iced ahead of time. People would be using them, so pulling a knife, which wasn’t sharp enough for the task but all they had, they went to work, making sure the little yellow things were in both wedges and slices, then had ice on them and were placed in the cool chest.

  At about fifteen minutes before the doors were supposed to open, Eve slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Clothing.” Where those that been, he didn't know but currently they were in her right hand, in a clothing bag. “Hopefully it all fits. You’re good with dressing like a clown, right? It’s the tradition here.”

  He nodded.

  “It better not be. I don’t have time to do the makeup. Besides, you said monkey last time. I got my hopes up.”

  Kerry waved at him, from where she’d been pretending to wipe the counter. It wasn’t that she was being lazy, as much as clearly didn’t know what to do. Really, given their set up, and that there were no tables at all, she wasn’t that far off. They’d need to take trays of drinks around, if possible. He decided that Eve and Kerry could do that, while he worked the bar. The other guy, Tobin, hadn’t shown up yet. That was disappointing, since he was supposed to be playing the picnic and being on time for things was kind of important.

  Part of him wanted to start pouring the wine and Champagne already but clothing was important as well. Kerry, his new buddy, took him to a small room, which was mainly empty inside. Except for their overstock. He expected her to leave at the door but she lingered, as if she expected him to disrobe in front of her.

  He grinned at that.

  “Not that I’m shy or anything but… You mentioned a boyfriend?”

  That got her to blush a bit.

  “I didn't know if you’d need help.” She looked away, as if it might be something real. Or less than that.

  “Ah? Sure. That might be the case. I was told it was a clown outfit. You can do the makeup for that?” When he unzipped the thing, it was just a tux. Moving faster than was actually humanly possible, he had it on about thirty seconds later. He could have done it almost instantly but the clothing could only move so fast without tearing. That would be bad, at a guess.

  He had zero money, in the world he was in. Paying someone back for that kind of thing would be a lot less than fun, given that.

  The whole thing went on easily enough. He’d worn that kind of thing before. Mainly in the last several years. Bey hadn’t insisted on that kind of thing but it had come up, in various worlds. Troy could even do the bow tie correctly, though he had to use the mirror in the bathroom for that. Kerry, standing there, looking at him, made a face.

  “You look nice. So, I guess I was here for the free show? I don’t think Tobin knows how to do a tie like that.”

  That part was clear, since Troy walked into the room, wearing his old mustache and a tie that was hanging loose. Dressed just like him, otherwise.

  Troy looked at Tobin, getting the idea, from what had been said.

  “Daaaamn. They were all totally right. You are good looking.”

  The slightly shorter fellow smiled at him. It was a huge thing that seemed almost like he was trying to stretch his face in two.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you. Can someone help me with this thing? Sorry, about being late. I was attacked by forty fans who demanded selfies and cuddles.” That didn’t seem to be him lying or making something up.

  Troy got the idea. The man was a chart topping singer there. It could come up, at a guess.

  “I can help with that. We need to hurry a bit. I’d like to get some trays of drinks out, as soon as people come in. Meet them at the door with a drink. Then mingle and take them things. I’ll handle the bar. We should ha
ve twice the staff for something like this but we’ll live. You all have super speed, right?” That last bit was him being a pill but Tobin nodded.

  “Yeah. I do. Not Kerry. What do we do?”

  Troy didn’t blink but felt like it. The idea that asking if people had a given power like that and getting a serious and affirmative answer was kind of interesting.

  “She’ll make it work. She’s pretty solid. When in doubt, do your best and stay relaxed. We’re going to rock this thing.”

  As soon as he got Tobin hooked up with a bow tie that matched his, Troy moved out, like they had something to prove. Apparently to an empty room. The doors weren’t opened yet but they didn’t seem to be dealing with the same level of people that he’d been told to expect.

  That wasn’t a big issue for him. After all, if they only had fifteen people, then they’d be better off. It wasn’t hard to make drinks for small numbers of people, after all. He got the drink trays set up, and when a woman he didn't know walked to the large double doors and opened them, he sent the ladies on his team over to it, in order to start helping people get loaded. That was their job for the night, after all.

  He’d come in at the door and not left in that direction since he’d been there, that had obviously been a huge mistake. As soon as the thing was opened, a trickle of people started to come in. Then, after about ten minutes, and two tray reloads, the stream became a raging river of bodies.

  “Oh, good. We wouldn’t want things to get boring.”

  Then, he was descended on by a horde of very well-dressed zombies. Instead of brains, they all called for drinks. A variety of them. All things that he knew how to make, so with a bit of superhuman speed, he mainly managed to keep up with it all.

  Chapter fifteen

  The work, when Troy and the others had cleaned up and done a second inventory, had taken about six hours. It didn’t take long to do the paperwork part, though they did have to use a yellow legal note pad for it, lacking an official form for the task. No one had asked him to do it but the fact of the matter was that a good bar had to know what they had on hand. It was, more or less, still just habit for him.