A stir in the crowd and a turning of heads showed that the Net Force Explorers meeting was finally starting. That would cut off any more discussion until after business was taken care of.
Leif shrugged. It looked as if he wasn't going to get to check out this Slaney person. He wasn't coming down all the way from New York to check out the possible competition from a guy who might want to go out with Megan.
After all, Leif wasn't going out with her, either.
Megan stood in front of the building, glancing from the number over the glass doors to the address Alan Slaney had written down for her. She'd expected the Fin de Siecle SIG to meet in a restaurant, or maybe in somebody's home-the old-fashioned houses around Dupont Circle would have been perfect. Instead, she found herself outside a large downtown office building. At least, it would have been an office building twenty years ago. Nowadays, the building provided more space for computers and servers than for actual workers.
Maj Green came out through the revolving doors. "This definitely is the place," she reported. "Maybe we should wait in the lobby. It's about twenty degrees cooler than the air out here."
"I guess they keep the place well air-conditioned for the computers," Megan said. "If you want to stay inside, that's okay with me. But I think one of us should be out here-that's where we said we'd meet."
Another girl passed them, carrying a long, very full garment bag inside.
"That's the fifth person I've seen with one of those things," Megan said. "What are they for?"
"Costumes," Maj told her. "I almost couldn't get into the ladies' room with all the people changing in there. I sat and watched them for a minute. Getting dressed in those days must have been a big deal. Too many layers and no zippers. I learned a bit about turn-of-the-century clothes while I was there. They had to be awful hot in a Washington summer." She waggled her fingers. "And they had lots of hooks and buttons."
P. J. Farris hopped out of a cab and gave the building a long once-over. "Well, it is old-fashioned, but it's still about sixty years ahead of the times for these AHSO people."
"They needed a large-sized meeting place, and Alan was able to arrange this with his boss," Megan explained.
Andy came walking from the direction of the nearest Metro station with David. Obviously, he'd heard what Megan had said. "Your pal Alan works here?" Andy said. "Doing what?"
"Computer maintenance." The words felt awkward on Megan's tongue.
"Maintenance? On those sealed boxes they keep in here?" Andy hooted. "That means dusting. The guy's a glorified janitor!"
Maj and P. J. joined Andy's laughter. Megan could feel her face going stiff as she looked over at David.
He shrugged. "It's not the greatest job in the world."
"Alan says it pays the rent," Megan defended her friend, "and gives him time to do the things he wants to do."
"Like fooling around with swords and the good old days," Maj snorted.
"He says it was a simpler, more beautiful time," Megan said.
David shook his head. His dark brown skin gleamed in the light. "Simpler, yes. As for beautiful, I don't think so. Things sure were a lot simpler for folks who were my color," he pointed out. "There were only a few jobs we were allowed to do. Picking cotton, cleaning houses, shining shoes-"
"And there were only a couple of states where women were allowed to vote," Maj put in.
"I was just repeating Alan's opinion. You don't have to convince me how much better things are today. What do you say we just check out what these people are doing?" Megan said. "Alan seemed really eager about tonight's meeting."
Megan and her friends entered the building, following the growing crowd heading to the meeting room. Megan couldn't believe her eyes as they entered. A good quarter of the people in the room were dressed in period costumes. One guy came by in a dapper-looking suit, his derby tucked under one arm as he swung an agate- topped cane in the other. Then they passed a girl wearing a hobble skirt so tight around the ankles she could hardly walk, along with a jacket that ended at her waist, and a hat wider than a pizza crowned with all sorts of iridescent feathers.
"I'll bet that hemline raised people's blood pressure back when," David said with a smile.
"You can't see anything!" Andy complained.
"In those days a glimpse of stocking was hot stuff," David replied. 'Too bad Matt's not around. He'd have enjoyed this, I think."
"I think he'll get by, vacationing with his family," P. J. laughed, then stared. "Check this one out."
"This" turned out to be a guy in a red uniform covered in gold braid, with a fore-and-aft hat, a gold-encrusted sash… and a sword with a gold hilt in an ornate scabbard.
"Either he rules half a continent, or he's the doorman for a very exclusive hotel," P. J. said.
"Nice sword," Maj muttered, turning to Megan. "Please, tell me this isn't your friend."
"No," Megan was happy to answer. 'There he is."
Alan stepped out on a small stage, dressed in everyday jeans and a polo shirt. "Glad to see you could all make it," he told the crowd, with a special grin at the guy in the general's rig. "Especially you, Chauncey."
"Think nothing of it, old boy," the guy in the glittering uniform replied with a condescending wave of his fawn-colored glove.
Except for the costumes and the slightly more informal tone, the business part of the meeting wasn't all that different from the Net Force Explorers gathering a few days earlier. In fact, Alan's final announcement was more high-tech than historical.
"I'm happy to say that Latvinia is up and running," Alan told them.
"Was she sick?" Andy Moore cracked-a little too loudly, Megan realized.
Alan pretended not to notice. "For almost a year, people have been talking about a virtual reality setup that would let us simulate life in our chosen era. Latvinia gives us an entire kingdom-even though it's a small one-with plenty of opportunities for adventures. It's based on some of the vest-pocket monarchies created in period novels like The Prisoner ofZenda, the Graustark stories, and Edgar Rice Burroughs's The Mad King"
"Sounds like you'd have to be insane to get involved with this," Maj commented.
The response from the rest of the crowd-the non-Net Force Explorers-was much more enthusiastic.
"What happens now?" asked the girl in the hobble skirt.
"Beta-testing," Alan replied. "The sim and all the non- playing characters are ready to go. If you're interested in visiting Latvinia, check with me, get a character profile, and fill it out. We'll run it through the computer, and you'll be in." He seemed to be looking straight at Megan as he said, "This is an open invitation. I hope we get a good response."
"Excuse me," an accented voice called out. Megan glanced over to recognize a young foreign guy from her historical fencing classes. "This invitation-it is for all of us? Even those who do not belong to this organization?"
"Let me introduce Sergei Chernevsky, the son of the Russian ambassador," Alan said. "I took the liberty tonight of inviting Sergei and several other promising fencers from the historical swordplay class I teach." He grinned. "After all, what would Latvinia be without flashing blades? For that we need swordsmen-and swordswomen."
"Oh, brother," Andy said.
"From the determined look on Megan's face," David said, "I'd cut that down to a simple-'Uh-oh!' "
Leif scowled at the holographic connection to Washington. "How can you say that?" he demanded.
"It's a pretty simple two-letter word," David Gray replied. "N-O. No."
Leif shook his head as he looked at his friend's face.
"I don't see what the problem is," David added. "Maj and Andy turned Megan down flat. P. J. wants to play cowboys and Cossacks, or whatever. Just because you volunteered to join in on this beta-testing jaunt doesn't mean I have to come along."