by Siegel, Alex
"It's like walking into a freezer," Sampson said.
"We'll just have to deal with it," Xavier said. "Keep moving."
Eventually, they found the other convention attendees. About forty people were standing around in a loose group on top of the garage. All of them appeared to be in tremendous physical condition. They wore a variety of clothes but gray was the dominant color. Xavier was certainly in the right place.
As he got closer, he started noticing odd things. One woman had green hair that seemed to move independently of her head. A man had an odd lump in the center of his back. Another wore oversized sunglasses, and the shape of his skull was wrong. It's like a carnival freak show, Xavier thought.
The group was very quiet. Clearly, nobody knew the proper social etiquette at a Society convention. They were falling back to their default behavior, which was silence and paranoia.
Two buses arrived. They were painted gray and had no markings at all.
A man stepped out of one of the buses. "Hi!" he said with a pleasant smile. "I'm Aaron, commander of Chicago. I'll be your host this weekend. If you need anything at all, let me know and I'll make sure it gets taken care of."
Aaron was fairly tall and had the muscles of a body builder. His straight brown hair was neatly trimmed. Bushy eyebrows shaded his eyes. He wore an ordinary jacket like Xavier, but the cold didn't seem to bother him. Xavier, on the other hand, felt like he was slowly freezing to death.
A beautiful woman stepped out of the other bus. Her strawberry blonde hair was long and lustrous. Her green eyes caught the sunlight. Freckles on her rosy skin made her seem a little girlish.
"And this is Marina," Aaron said. "She's my second in command and your hostess. If I'm not around and you need something, she'll be happy to help you. I'm sure we're going to have a lot of fun together this weekend. It will be a memorable experience."
Seeing Marina made Xavier feel a sharp but familiar pain. His lover, Rhiannon had been his second in command before her death. He didn't know whether Aaron loved Marina, but Xavier was still jealous.
"I'd like everybody to pick a bus," Aaron said. "We have a very long ride to the convention site. You can use the time to introduce yourselves to each other. We're all friends here."
All the men and women climbed onto a bus. The interiors were heated, which came as a great relief to Xavier. There was plenty of room, more than enough for people and their luggage. He and Sampson picked seats across from each other.
Xavier noticed the man with the oddly shaped face had taken off his sunglasses. His eyeballs were three times as big as normal and looked like cat eyes. His vertical slit pupils were a full inch long. The man nodded politely to Xavier.
He settled into his seat. Definitely a freak show.
Three hours later, he checked his watch in disbelief. Aaron hadn't lied about the length of the ride. They had even stopped at a gas station and convenience store half-way through the trip.
Xavier had used the GPS system in his thick, gray Society phone to track his position continuously. He had confirmed his location using road signs. The bus was now in the eastern part of Wisconsin, not far from Lake Michigan. The area contained a mixture of thick forests, small farms, and lakes. The land undulated but wasn't particularly hilly. After spending so many years in Texas, the cold, wet terrain seemed alien to Xavier. There was a lot of snow on the ground, which didn't help his comfort level. He wasn't sure how to fight in the stuff.
Finally, the bus stopped and the trip was over.
Aaron stood up at the front of the bus and announced, "Welcome to Camp Zonta. This is one of the better summer camps in Wisconsin. It's shut down for the winter, so we have the whole place to ourselves. Everybody you meet will be a member of the Society, either an attendee of the convention or part of my team. There are absolutely no outsiders here. You can let your hair down, so to speak."
He walked down the aisle and handed out sheets of paper.
"Here are maps of the camp," he said. "They show who is staying in which rooms. We fixed up the accommodations as best we could, but it's still a little rough. I'm hoping that will add to the adventure."
Xavier received a map. He found a cabin marked with the word "Houston." It appeared the camp was built on the side of a good sized lake. That was useful to know.
"Dinner is in an hour," Aaron said. "I suggest you go to your rooms and get washed up. Formal robes are mandatory in the dining room, by order of the legate. In case you forgot to pack yours, you'll find spare robes in your rooms. We tried hard to get the sizes right. You can take them home when the convention ends. I know many of you travelled on commercial flights and couldn't bring decent weapons. You'll find plenty of those in your rooms, too. I wouldn't expect any of you to walk around unarmed. I certainly won't." He smiled.
* * *
Aaron studied the crowd with the eye of a detective. Everybody wore gray, of course. The commanders' robes had elaborate woven hems and layered hoods. The legionnaires wore somewhat plainer garb, but their robes still looked elegant.
There were a lot of weapons in plain view. Everybody had pistols and knives, but those were just backup pieces. Many attendees had strapped assault rifles across their backs. One man had a proper machine gun on the floor beside him. Even Aaron considered that a little excessive. There were also plenty of swords on display. It was the perfect weapon for killing quietly at close range, and it never needed reloading.
My people, Aaron said, all but one of them.
Knowing the traitor was in the room filled him with quiet rage. He examined the faces one at a time. He was looking for one with more anxiety than the rest, but everybody was uneasy tonight.
Aaron looked over at Ethel, who wore the finest robes of all. Gold thread was woven into the hems, and her hood was made of glossy black silk. She sat alone at her own table with her bodyguard standing behind her. There was another chair, but it was empty.
She held a real spear covered in gray ash, but that was just for show. Her preferred weapons were a pair of silver plated machetes on her back. Those gleaming blades had become famous. According to rumor, she could slice the wings off a fly in midair.
The rumor was true. Aaron had seen her do it.
Ethel stood up. All conversation in the room ceased immediately.
"Welcome to the twentieth general convention of the North American division of the Gray Spear Society," she said in a loud voice. "I know everybody is hungry, so I'll be brief. First, the schedule. Tonight we will simply dine and socialize. A combat tournament will take place tomorrow. The seconds will fight each other for the honor of their respective cities, until only one is left standing. That should entertain us for most of the day."
Aaron glanced at Marina and saw her bite her lip anxiously. Tomorrow, she would fight for Chicago.
"We'll have another banquet tomorrow evening," Ethel said. "I'll award a very interesting trophy to the winner of the tournament at that time. On the final full day, I'll have private meetings with individuals or small groups. A schedule will be posted. When you're not with me, you can do as you see fit. I think Aaron is planning to hold a big paintball game. That should be fun. On Monday morning, everybody goes home."
She began to walk around the room. Her steps were very quick and precise. She did everything much faster than normal.
"One other thing," she said. "Be friendly, but don't become friends. Even here, there is information we can't disclose. Don't discuss your vulnerabilities. Don't put your teams back home at risk. Let's try to keep all the conversations professional instead of personal. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," everybody responded.
Ethel nodded. "Aaron, the floor is yours."
Aaron stepped forward. All eyes turned to him, and the experience was unexpectedly intimidating. He didn't like standing in front of crowds. He preferred to deal with people one at a time.
"Security," Aaron said. "I'm sure everybody is as worried about it as I am."
The dining
room was large enough to seat ten times as many people as were actually present. Gray curtains screened off part of the room so it wouldn't feel so empty.
He walked over to one of the curtains and pulled it back abruptly, revealing enough armament to satisfy the wildest fantasies of any military fetishist. There were boxes of grenades, machine guns, RPG's, sniper rifles, and many other kinds of weapons. Racks held enough body armor for the whole convention. Aaron had even provided night vision gear and communications equipment.
He heard appreciative murmurings from the audience.
"If we're attacked," he said, "come here first. As you can see, we have more than enough hardware to go around. And you also have the equipment in your rooms. You'll know we're under attack because you'll hear the warning siren and everybody's phone will ring. My security team has the entire area under constant surveillance. They'll sound the alarm immediately if there is any sign of trouble. We also added a special emergency number to the phone system. If anybody dials 5-5-5 on their phone, the alarms will go off."
In fact his "security team" was just Bethany, Leanna, and Norbert, but there was no reason to disclose that fact.
"We planted booby traps in the woods all around the camp," Aaron added. "Anybody who tries to sneak in here will get chewed to pieces. Don't go into the woods without consulting me first. I'll tell you where it's safe to walk. In general, stay close to home. We put some nasty toys out there."
Again, he was exaggerating somewhat. Time constraints had forced some compromises on security measures. The belt of traps wasn't as thick or deadly as he was implying. The other problem was animals. Deer in the woods had insisted on blundering into tripwires with annoying regularity. He had eaten a lot of fresh venison during the last two weeks.
He wasn't very concerned about a lack of booby traps though. The attendees at the convention were the main defense. As long as they had enough time to prepare for battle, no enemy could beat them. Just a few minutes of warning would be sufficient.
"Are there any questions?" Aaron said.
"Yes," a man towards the back replied. "What about the lake? The ice looks thick enough to walk across."
"We put high voltage heating elements in the ice to weaken it. If anybody tries to cross that way, they'll have a very wet, chilly experience. The elements also electrify the water."
The man nodded with satisfaction.
"That's all?" Aaron said. "Then let's eat!"
A door leading to a separate kitchen opened. Smythe, Nancy, Jack, and Kamal emerged carrying great platters of food. They wore the simple gray shirts and pants of assistants in the Society or caculas. They hurried to place platters on tables.
As a legionnaire, Smythe certainly had the right to wear real robes, but Aaron had told him not to. Aaron liked the idea of having an extra legionnaire on hand that the guests didn't know about. This weekend was all about deceptions, small and large.
Aaron walked over to Marina. She still looked anxious.
"Nervous about tomorrow?" he said.
She took his hand and nodded. "The fights are going to be rough. I just hope nobody gets seriously hurt, especially me."
"It sounds like you haven't heard the worst part."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"I wouldn't want to steal Ethel's thunder." He winked. "You'll find out when she explains it to everybody. Let's just say this tournament will have a very memorable format. Good luck." He gave her a hug.
She swallowed.
"But that's tomorrow," he said softly, "and tonight has just begun. We have a traitor to find. Let's begin."
The two of them split up.
The dining room contained square tables, each seating four people. This arrangement forced each pair from the same city to sit with one other pair. It was a gentle way to get people talking to each other.
Aaron walked to the nearest table. The four guests were busy serving themselves from platters. There were three kinds of meat: beef, pork, and of course, lots of venison. Another platter held steamed vegetables. There was also fresh baked bread and a selection of Wisconsin cheeses. It wasn't the fanciest meal, but it was all good and there was plenty of it.
Aaron waited until things settled down before he spoke. "Hi. Where are you guys from?"
"Atlanta," a man said.
"Toronto," a woman added.
Aaron turned to the woman, who wore the robes of a commander. She was tall and had wavy brown hair. Her skin was a little dark, and the shape of her nose suggested Italian heritage.
"Toronto isn't too far from Chicago," he said. "Maybe we could organize some kind of joint training exercise between our teams."
"That sounds like a good idea. We'll have to clear it with Ethel." Her voice was very pleasant.
"Of course. Did you get the same snow storm that dumped on us a few weeks ago?"
She nodded. "It was crazy. We were trapped in our headquarters for a day. The whole city was shut down."
"It wasn't quite that bad in Chicago, but the storm was still impressive. I probably shouldn't be asking, but my curiosity is overwhelming. There are so few opportunities to meet other members of the Society. Do you have a gift?"
"I do. I bend metal."
"Can I see?" he said.
"Sure."
She picked up a butter knife. With one hand she crumpled it as if it were just tissue paper. She gave him what was left of the knife. It looked like a misshapen ball of clay, except it was solid metal.
"That's a nice trick," he said. "I'm not sure how you'd use it in a fight."
"Bending metal has a thousand uses. I can open doors, destroy equipment, form simple tools with my hands. For fun I make sculptures out of bars of steel. It's like putty to me. What about you? Do you have a gift?"
He spat into his hand. A glob of sticky yellow saliva coated the metal lump. It dissolved in a cloud of smoke until nothing was left.
"Wow," she said. "That stuff doesn't hurt your hand?"
"The acid won't burn living flesh. I can spit a fair distance, too, and I'm very accurate. I can destroy a gun while my enemy is still holding it."
"Nice." She nodded.
"I have to meet the other guests. Does anybody have any questions before I go? Any issues I need to address?" He looked around the table.
"I do have one question." The commander of Toronto glanced in Ethel's direction. "I love getting together like this, and I hate to be critical, but this convention seems... under-planned. They're so rare. I feel like we should use the time to do something special. Let's make big decisions about the future of the Society. Instead, we're just having a tournament one day and meetings the next. What's the point?"
Aaron smiled. "Don't worry. You won't be disappointed by the time you leave. This will be an interesting weekend for everybody."
He walked off.
A nearby table included a man with giant yellow cat eyes. His brown hair was neatly combed, and its normalcy seemed ironic. Aaron had to talk to him.
He walked over and said, "I bet you can see pretty well at night with those."
"In complete darkness, actually," the man replied. "I'm Yule, from Los Angeles."
"Very nice to meet you."
Aaron and Yule shook hands. Yule had a nice, firm grip.
"There must be an interesting story behind those eyes," Aaron said.
"My team was trapped in a dark cave. The enemy had night vision gear, and we didn't. We were effectively blind and helpless. I was sure all of us would get picked off, until God decided to turn the game around. I wiped out the opposition by myself."
"It must be a pain when you go out in public. You can't let anybody see your eyes."
"I wear special sunglasses, but you're right." Yule nodded. "It can be a big problem. I have to spend most of my time hiding in headquarters. It's like I'm under house arrest. You can't imagine how good it feels to come to a place where I can let everybody see me. I wish we had these conventions more often."
Aaron nodded and turned
to the commander on his left. He was a distinguished looking man with black hair speckled with gray. His eyes were the same jade color as Marina's. A burn mark disfigured the center of his forehead.
He offered his hand. "I'm Hector, from Manhattan."
Aaron shook his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"I never had a chance to thank you for helping my bankers with that stolen money mess several months ago. You were very generous with your time."
"No thanks are necessary. I got the better end of that deal by far."
"Bethany and Leanna are working out well?" Hector said.
"That's an understatement. I don't know how we got by without them."
"Wendy raved about them, and she's not easy to impress."
"I hope to meet Wendy one day," Aaron said. "She's been handling my money all this time, and I don't even know what she looks like. We could arrange a special trip for her. She could hang out with the twins for a couple of days in Chicago. They'd have a great time together."
"Or the twins could come to Manhattan. I'd be happy to host them."
There was an awkward silence. Clearly, neither commander wanted to put a critical team member at risk by sending her on a long trip.
"We'll try to work something out," Aaron said. "I should keep moving. Anybody need anything before I go?"
Nobody answered, so he walked off.
He glanced back at Ethel. She was sitting alone at her table. There was a plate full of food in front of her, but she wasn't eating. Instead, she was just staring at the people in the room. Her eyes seemed especially dark tonight.
Aaron looked around for somebody else to talk to. His goal was to meet as many people as possible before the night was over. Maybe the traitor would slip up. Marina was also working the room with the same intentions.
Aaron noticed a man with an impressively thick mustache. It covered both lips. His black hair was receding, which made his forehead look big. Like all the male members of the Society, he was very muscular, and a narrow waist indicated he was also very lean. Cool blue eyes peered out from beneath thick eyebrows.
Aaron walked over and said, "I wish I could grow a mustache like that."