“Guys,” Marius blurted, riveted to the changing face of the Moon, so focused on what he was seeing that he was completely oblivious to the fact that he had just rudely interrupted a conversation of people he considered to be his seniors and superiors in the con hierarchy. “Guys. Look. I think we’re rounding the edge — we’re going to the back, to the part that nobody’s seen…”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sam murmured. “I wouldn’t call a bunch of Apollo astronauts nobody, and there have been a number of them who’ve looked on the ‘dark side’.” He made the air quotes with his free hand as he spoke. “I seem to recall that the first guy who set eyes on it wasn’t hugely impressed. He said it was just like his kid’s sandpit, or something of the sort. I remember feeling very indignant at that, when I first heard it quoted.”
“But there have been pictures,” Xander said, craning forward to see. “I’ve seen pictures taken by various probes they sent. Not so many years ago now, there were really detailed photos. There was a crater — ”
“Dude,” Libby said, staring at the Moon, “take your pick. The place is crater stitched to crater. Look at it.”
“This one was different… It was a weird Russian name… I forget…”
“Tsiolkovski,” Marius said faintly, and raised his arm again. “Might that be it?”
They watched in awe as the Moon turned below them and offered them a glimpse of a secret face that so few humans had ever seen. Conversation lapsed; there was not, in truth, that much to see, but there was everything, they were seeing the invisible, the impossible. A few of the others in the room had realized what was happening and a cheer went up from the crowd at the bar as they all surged towards the windows. Someone’s camera made a small clicking sound close enough to Marius for him to blink at the noise and then mutter something under his breath, searching around for a place to set down his drink. Sam held out his free hand and Marius pushed his glass into it, scrambling for his own phone, lifting it up to take a few frantic shots of the Moon.
“Mom is never going to believe this,” he said breathlessly.
“You’re really going to try to explain tonight to your mother?” Sam asked, amused.
Marius looked so astonished that Sam burst out laughing. “Kid,” he said, “your momma is a great lady but she would not believe a word of this. And if she did, you’re banned from all future conventions while you live under her roof, I hope you realize that…”
“But…”
“I know. You’ll want to tell someone. All I can tell you is pick your confidante carefully….”
His voice faded, and Marius finally turned to look.
Andie Mae, cradling something that defied description in a tall glass garnished with a little black cocktail umbrella on a silver toothpick, had joined the group. The concoction in her hand had obviously not been her first drink that night because she was actually smiling as she looked at Sam Dutton.
“Um, it’s called ‘The Dark Side’,” she said, gesturing at the drink in her hand, because it obviously needed explaining. But then she re — focused, and tilted her head a fraction in Sam’s direction. “I might have known you’d find your way up here.”
“Um, I asked…” Xander began helplessly, but Andie Mae waved him down.
“Under the circumstances,” she said, “I kind of understand. How am I doing so far, Sam?”
“Spectacularly,” Sam said, and he meant it sincerely. “Under the circumstances. I know seasoned con Chairs who would have gone to pieces. You’ve taken a king — size lemon and made it into the kind of con lemonade that won’t be forgotten in a hurry.”
“You wish it had been you?”
“It should have been me,” Sam said, and it came out far more sharply than he had intended. “Look, cards on the table — I came to see what you’d make of my convention. You have to admit that at the very least I had the right to be curious.”
“And?”
“This is hardly a fair test,” Sam said, “wouldn’t you say?”
“Wait, are you saying that she’d have done worse if the droids hadn’t arrived?”
“It might have been ordinary,” Sam said. “And I don’t think the Steel Magnolia would have handled ordinary well. You wanted something out of this world, Andie Mae. I’d say you got an answer to your prayers.”
“I would have settled for Schwarzenegger and Spiner,” Andie Mae said.
“Hollywood — made against interstellar alien android invaders?” Xander said. “No contest, really. Ask anyone in the party wing tonight. Seems these were the droids you were looking for, only you never thought to offer up the right specifications.”
“We still don’t know what it is they’re really after or if they got it or if they can get it,” Libby said faintly.
“Can’t you just tell them the answer is 42 and then send them home?” Liam asked.
“You’ve never met Boss, have you,” Libby said. “He’s a little… literal…”
“You’d think he would understand irony, given his…” Sam blinked, shook his head over his drink. “What is it about this particular bar that makes me degenerate into bad puns within half an hour of setting foot in here?”
“Oh, you aren’t alone,” Xander said. “They had quite a chain going up at the bar. You’d think that with that hanging over your head you’d stop thinking about what every red — blooded male is supposed to be thinking about all of the time, but guess what? Some stuff just sneaks through anyway. Someone earnestly wanted to know, if you screw in a forest, does that automatically make it a treesome?”
“That would be branching out,” murmured Libby.
“Hah! They didn’t think of that one. But they did ask whether it would just mean that you have to bough to the necessity.”
“Would that be an aldernate lifestyle?”
“Or would it just cause too much pine and suffering?”
Sam glanced at Marius, who was studying the Moon with far too great an intensity, one that spoke eloquently of trying to tune out the conversation. But Sam himself couldn’t resist joining in the pile — up.
“Can we just stop needling everyone and leaf it alone?” he murmured.
Libby giggled.
“Um, just how far would you have to go before someone called you a son of a beech…?” Xander said.
“I don’t ever want to go home,” Libby announced, a wide grin still wreathing her face, and then lost her balance and staggered sideways into Liam, who slipped an arm around her waist.
“I think we’d better sit you down somewhere,” he said.
“About that, going home I mean,” Sam began, and then his head came up sharply as the group by the window was joined by a new member.
“Sam Dutton,” Andie Mae said sweetly, “meet Boss. Boss, this is Sam. He might have been me, if you had pulled this trick last year.”
Boss turned his head a little, looking at one and then the other. “He would have been you?”
“Like Libby said,” Xander muttered. “Literal. What she’s saying is that Sam was the con Chair last year, so he would have been the one in charge, the one you would have met and dealt with, like you have with her right now. The previous leader.”
“Is everything all right?” Libby, who had resisted Liam’s effort to guide her away towards a seat, turned to ask.