"Name?" The man at the registration table asked.
"Kenneth Davidson." Kenny handed his pre-registration papers to the other man.
"Excellent. Here's your name tag and program package," he handed Kenny a manila envelope. "Keep in mind our weapons policy: 'If it acts like a weapon, it is one - and will result in the immediate eviction of the offender from the convention'."
He looked at Kenny a moment. "Did you know you look like 'Frodo' from..."
"Yes, I know," Kenny ran his fingers through his curly hair. "I've got to get another barber."
He stepped away from the table, put on his name tag, and scanned the program guide. Ethercon 19 had the makings of an interesting time. Since it was being held at an Etherite hotel they didn't have to pretend they were a Science Fiction convention. Here, they could really let their hair down. With panel names like Transmatter Re-Fueling, Coffee - the Ultimate Power Source? and Stepping up from Steam: a Guide to Building the New Ether Ships, it sounded like this convention was going to be a lot of fun.
Then there were The Technocracy War: Is It Really Over? and A Woman's Place In Science, but those were strictly business since he was on the panels.
He scanned the membership list and sighed with relief. Professor Dranbellago's name was absent.
He skipped the formal dinner and went to the Woman's Place panel. As he suspected, there were groups of both extremes eyeing each other in the hallway: a cadre of graying old men in their stuffy suits and a gathering of young women in electric blue jumpsuits and heavy boots.
Time to run the gauntlet. He put a hand over his PDD (Personal Displacement Device); he didn't like to get it jostled in a crowd.
"Davidson!" one of the men called out as they entered the lecture hall, "Are you going to sell out your sex for these hormone-crazed -"
"Hormones!" cried an ElectroDyne Diva, "If you'd keep *your* hormones in check - "
"And you!" a woman stepped up to him, "You have the nerve to speak for us! There's not a single woman on the panel!"
"I'm sorry," Kenny replied, "But I don't make up the panels. I'll do my best."
"Ha!" She followed close at his heels as they entered the room filled with folding chairs. "You're just like them! Patronizing little..."
Kenny stopped in his tracks. The woman behind him nearly knocked him over. A bearded man with a walking cane had stepped right in front of him. Kenny's eyes widened. He recognized the furious eyes behind the disguise.
"Dranbellago!"
"Mock me, will you?!" The man pointed the cane at him. Cables snaked back from the one end of the cane back into his overcoat. The tip of the cane glowed and hummed ominously.
"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Kenny cried as he knocked the tip of the cane towards the ceiling. A greenish-gold light poured out and struck the plaster ceiling. Bits of gypsum fell down like snow.
The other Etherites took appropriate action - most hit the floor. Those closest to the door bolted. A few vanished in various swirling and arcing of weird plasmas. Toe-to-toe with his assailant, Kenny was too close for the first two options.
He pressed two buttons on his PDD, which should have teleported him safely out of the room and back into his hotel room. But he found himself merely at the other side of the room.
"What the!" came a voice behind him.
He glanced behind him and discovered that the device had teleported both him and the woman who had followed him. The extra weight had shortened his travel.
"Sorry, proximity effect," he said as he dragged her to the floor.
The wall next to them shattered.
"You shall see the strength of my theory!" Dranbellago thundered, "When I change your now-on particles into past-on particles! Let's see you mock me when you're in diapers again!"
"I suggest we crawl," the woman whispered.
"I suggest you get off of me," Kenny choked.
A nearby chair was struck by the beam. It vanished in a flash of electricity. Bauxite ore showered the twain.
"I have an idea," the woman whispered into Kenny's ear.
Kenny whispered back. She nodded and they crawled away from each other.
"Davidson!" Dranbellago shouted as he stalked the open aisle. "I know you're in this room! Come out and take it like a man!"
Kenny pushed several of the chairs over and lay flat as the beam played against the imitation paneling. A cloud of sawdust and crude oil steamed off the wall. Using the distraction the woman ducked behind one of the heavy service carts at the other end of the room. She pushed it rapidly down the aisle towards Dranbellago. The device hummed and she dropped to the floor.
His time beam hit the rolling cart. As had the aluminium folding chairs, the aluminium cart turned into bauxite and electricity. The rolling cart became a rolling ball of lightning.
It struck Dranbellago squarely. His device sizzled and arced as it died.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" he screamed as the burning cables fried his clothing.
"SECURITY! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
"Why are they always late?" Kenny muttered as he rose to from the floor.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced to the returning crowd. "There are some among you who say that women are timid creatures, without the strength or inspiration to become True Scientists. I say you are wrong. Even under fire, women can be as quick of mind as any male here."
He pointed to the woman rising from the floor. "Quod erat demonstrandum. It is proven."
"As for YOU!" he shouted at the now restrained Dranbellago. "You may have shown some impressive results - but I still think your theory is crude and without Art."
"And for the woman who saved my life..." he bowed. "May I ask your name?"
"Anne Farrow," she said with an amused snort. She pointed to her badge with a finger. "Just read the badge."
"May I offer to buy you a drink?"
She glanced back at her companions. "No."
"Then I'm off to the con suite."
"But what about the panel?" someone piped up.
"Screw the panel," Kenny said as he walked away. "I want a drink."
Several hours later he was still ensconced in the con suite. His second glass of beer sat untouched on the table.
"Well, the first time I ran into a HITMark," Kenny was explaining, "We shot it between the eyes, nailed it with a laser AND dropped an anvil on it. And it still got up."
"Wait," Anne said, "You said the first time?"
"Yeah. The second time I had the piano ready. The metal strings were rigged with 150 kilovolts. It fried and it died."
"Sweet."
"Yeah, it was," Kenny said with a sigh.
"What?"
"After that my wife left me. Said it was just too dangerous for her and the kid."
He pulled out his wallet and removed a picture. "There's my pride and joy."
"Pretty girl," Anne said softly as she gazed at the image of a smiling four-year-old child.
"But... it's better this way," Kenny said with a shrug. "It was a mixed marriage. She, a Virtual Adept and I, an Etherite."
"Sorry."
He waved it off as he replaced the picture. "Still time for one more panel before the singalong. Stepping up from Steam. Want to come?"
"May I suggest Etheric Engines in Non-Atmospheric Conditions?" she replied. "It's more advanced."
"Hmmm. It would be nice to upgrade the Volvo from Steam to Etheric."
She blinked. "What a minute. Steam-powered Volvo?"
She eyed him closely. "Were you the one up at Victoria Station about a month ago?"
He blushed. "It's not my fault. I was sold faulty material; those tires should have taken the vacuum. And I was able to bring the car mostly under control after they burst."
He looked dejected. "And my bumper took the worst of it."
She laughed and patted his shoulder. "Look, if you're interested in getting off planet - come to the Etheric Engines panel."
"Which is placed at the same time on the program track as Stepping Up from Steam," he noted dryly. "Well, I'll take your advice."
"Then get off your cute little butt and let's go, Frodo."
"Please don't call me that."
"It's a matter of pride," Kenny said as the Technocracy War panel began to wind down. "The Technocracy has always wanted to run the whole show. But nearly half the cast and crew have up and left. It *has* to bring them back into the fold or destroy them. The major shooting war has stopped but there'll still be fighting for a long time yet."
"But Mr. Davidson, it is plain that they can't even get at the Void Engineers," an older panelist harumphed. "They're rational people. They should negotiate a settlement with the rebels and be on with their conquest of reality."
"I think the fallacy of the second statement is obvious," Kenny said dryly.
This brought a ripple of laughter to the room.
"Final points, gentlemen," The chair said.
Kenny sipped his coffee as the other panelists made their remarks. He was glad he'd hit the Coffee panel just before. The presentation had been deliberately hilarious and there'd been plenty of free samples. He'd be buzzing until dinner from just this one cup.
His turn to speak came. "The original aim of the rebels was that of reform: to bring the Technocracy back to its original goals of protecting and uplifting Humanity. In this they failed miserably. But if I've learned anything from my discourse with the rebels, it's that it is our responsibility as the Enlightened to protect Humanity against the Terrors that exist just beyond our senses. And I contend that we - The Sons and Daughters of Ether - should take up that fallen banner and assist them whenever we can."
As the panel broke up Anne came up to him. "That was well said."
"Thank you."
"Where are you going to next?"
"Actually, I might want to grab some lunch." He shook the empty foam cup. "This will keep me going but I need real fuel."
"I'd like you to meet some people," Anne said as they walked down the hallway. "We're having a private luncheon. I think you'll find us a compatible group."
Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm intrigued. What's on the menu?"
"Beef Wellington and Hawaiian Pizza."
"I like your group already."
She took him to one of the hotel rooms. "I think you know one our group," she said as she ushered him in.
"Professor Maxwell!" Kenny said in surprise. "What are you doing here? Your name wasn't on the roster."
"I got a day pass," Maxwell said. "Have a seat, my boy. You've met Anne, this is Professor Ardjin and his colleague Debra Tannenbaum."
"Charmed." He shook the offered hands. "So what's up doc?"
Anne grinned and started up the holoprojector. "You said we should start protecting humanity from the Terrors. Here's our answer."
"That looks like an A-10 Warthog. ... No, wait," Kenny peered closer. "That is NOT an A-10 Warthog."
"It starts with a Fairchild Republic Thunderbolt chassis," Anne began, "But we've modified it extensively. The engines are Super Electric EF34-SE-1000 high bypass ratio dual gasoline/ether turbofan engines. Collapsed steel reinforced for non-atmospheric environments. Dual redundant inertial dampers. Audio and video ansible communication system. Professor Simon's Velocity Matcher for docking. Nose mounted ED-8/7 Defender 30 mm seven-barrel cannon *and* FB-400 MILA laser canon."
"You're using my laser tech?" Kenny asked with a touch of pride.
"Sure! Your Multiple Inexpensive Laser Array was a big money saver. And to top it off, it carries a payload of ten - count 'em ten! Luftgaia Protector missiles."
"Luft-GAIA?" Kenny looked around the room. "Garou-tech?"
Debra wagged a finger at him. "Need to know basis."
He met her eye. The feral look told him all he needed to know. Wisely, he looked away.
"Okay," Kenny said. "What's my part?"
"We've done all the atmospheric tests," Fredrick spoke up. "But we need another test pilot for the Umbra tests."
"Another." Kenny pondered that word. "And what happened to the others?"
"Lou Edmunds was the first to take it up. He apparently ran into some weird etheric turbulence," Anne replied. "He panicked and transitioned back to Prime disregarding the Velocity Matcher warnings." Her look was grim. "He hit the atmosphere at seven times the speed of sound and blew himself up."
"Fredrik Owens was the second," Professor Ardjin spoke up. "It was a quick hop up and back. Everything looked fine until he flubbed the landing. He ah... I believe the word is pancaked? ... the plane on landing and like an idiot used the ejector seat to try to escape the crash. It was too low for the parachute to open. If he'd stayed with the plane he would have been fine. He's in Doctor WellWorth's Recuperation Tank at the moment and won't be rejoining us for several more weeks." He shifted in his seat. "Maybe months."
"The third became pregnant and asked to be transferred to ground crew." Anne scowled. "Now *that* could have been prevented."
"So the airframe is solid, but you need someone to give it a proper workout in the Ether? I don't think week-end jaunts in the Volvo make me much of a choice."
"You're available," Anne said.
"You mean I'm expendable," he shot back.
"You're a survivor," Professor Ardjin replied. "And other Etherites are too busy with their own personal work to assist us."
"I have *some* flight hours but I'm not qualified to fly a jet aircraft," Kenny said.
"You'll spend a *lot* of time in simulator training," Anne replied. "After that I'll teach you all I know about the A-10."
"You flew an A-10?"
She smiled. "Oh yeah. It was sweet."
"Just out of curiosity," Kenny said slowly, "How many of these do you have?"
"Military records state that there are three hundred and fifty airframes that are 'retired' and off the books," Anne chuckled.
Kenny gaped at them. "You have over three hundred?"
"No. We were able to get fifty, but only thirty-five have acceptable airframes," Ardjin said. "We're in the process of converting them now but it takes time. And we don't want to go too far before we give the prototype a good test."
Kenny snorted. "What, no B-52 bombers?"
"You know hard it is to sneak a B-52 frame out from Davis-Monthan Air Base?" Anne said scornfully.
"We had to settle for twenty-five F-111's," Ardjin said quietly.
"Jesus," Kenny breathed.
"Are you with us, Mr. Davidson?" Ardjin asked.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Kenny and Anne walked back towards the main convention.
"That was great pizza."
"That was great beef."
Anne laughed. "You had quite an appetite."
"Danger makes me hun... hello, what's this?"
A group of dignified Scientists walked up to them. "Mr. Davidson," one said formally, "it grieves me to present you with this."
Kenny took the paper extended towards him. He cursed under his breath.
"What is it?" Anne asked.
"Professor Dranbellago's challenged me to a duel," he frowned and furrowed his brow. "In addition, if I lose I have to publish a formal retraction of my opinion of his theory. He says that will settle matters between us."
"That's blackmail."
"Tell me about it."
"What if you *win*?"
"He'll stop harassing me and apologize."
"That's so sweet of him," she said sarcastically.
"Bloody crybaby. Damn! I never wanted this." He returned the paper. "I accept under protest. Contact me about the arrangements."
"You're mad!" Anne snarled at him as the others walked away. "This puts... everything we just talked about in jeopardy!"
Kenny turned to look at her. "I trusted you when I was attacked in the lecture hall. Trust me on this."
She let out a breath. "Fine," and she hooked an elbow around his and lead him away. "Then we'd better go tell the others."
Kenny, Anne, Debra and Professors Maxwell and Ardjin arrived at the open field. It was not too far from town but secluded from the road.
The selected judges for the duel were waiting for them along with Professor Dranbellago and half of Ethercon 19.
"Ah, Mr. Davidson," Dranbellago called out. "Finally I will have a chance at you. Man to man."
"Oh, spare me," Kenny replied. "Let's just do this."
Dranbellago smiled. "Then let me introduce my second." A tall, muscular man stepped forward. "This is Sir Theodore Souther. Marksman, boxer, expert swordsman. Formerly of Her Majesty's Secret Service."
Sir Theodore smiled unpleasantly, his smile twisted by an impressive dueling scar.
"Pleased," Kenny said tersely. "Let me introduce mine. This is Debra..."
"A woman!" one of the judges protested.
"... Shocking-Strike Tannenbaum; called Dares-the-Ahroun, Blood-Ripper, Wields-a-Bat, 'The Mechanic'. Theurge for the Glass-Walkers. She tells me she's a fairly good shot."
Debra smiled sweetly. Her eyes had the look of a predator hungry for a kill.
"This is highly irregular," A judge remarked.
Dranbellago waved it away. "It is acceptable to me."
"As challenged I have the choice of weapons," Kenny announced. "Has someone brought the blackpowder pistols?"
The judges produced a beautiful set of flintlock pistols.
"Excellent." Kenny nodded.
Dranbellago nodded. He waved towards the open field. "A private word, Mr. Davidson?"
The two Etherites walked away from the crowds while their seconds inspected the weapons.
"I do appreciate your not pressing charges," Dranbellago said quietly.
"I didn't want to inflame the situation," Kenny replied. "And I did appreciate your not sending any more explosive packages after the birth of my child."
"It was the only gentlemanly thing to do. My argument was with you, not your family. How are they?"
"They're okay. We're separated now."
"Sorry to hear that. Mixed marriages rarely work." Dranbellago sighed. "Although marriage to a Sleeper has its own problems. My own wife is threatening me with divorce."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Kenny replied in turn. "For all our professional differences, I have admired your long-term stable relationship."
"Thank you, sir. We should return. I believe they're ready."
Kenny handed over his PDD and his sonic screwdriver to Anne. "I'll be back for them."
"You're an idiot," Anne said angrily. "You could get yourself killed."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said. "Bloody male rituals. But I have two advantages. One - this type of pistol isn't very accurate. Two - Dranbellago is a lousy shot."
The judges scanned the two men for other items then scanned the loaded weapons. "As per arrangement, all perfectly mundane. Are you ready gentlemen?"
The feuding Etherites nodded and accepted their weapons.
"Back to back, Gentleman. Ten paces, turn, and fire."
As the judges counted to ten, Anne stood with clenched fists while Debra and Sir Theodore eyed each other hostilely.
At the count of ten Kenny spun around and held his weapon high. The powder sizzled in the pan as he discharged the pistol. The smoke plume rose into the sky.
Dranbellago turned and aimed far more carefully before he fired.
Kenny went down, clutching his shoulder.
Debra sprinted out and was the first to arrive. She slapped a heavy bandage on the spreading red splatch on Kenny's shirt. Anne, Prof. Maxwell, and Arjdin were right behind.
The judges and Dranbellago approached more cautiously. "Mr. Davidson?" a judge asked. "Do you want assistance?"
"My second will care for me," Kenny gasped.
The Garou growled softly. Wisely, everyone backed away.
"Damn it, Professor," Kenny panted, "You were always such a lousy shot."
"Practice, my boy, practice," Dranbellago replied cheerfully. "I expect a full retraction soon in Paradigma."
"Gak," he wheezed. "Then I'll want to see notes on your latest work. My word... I'll keep it strictly confidential."
"Of course, Mr. Davidson." He beamed at Kenny. "Maybe I'll make you a convert."
"When hel... just send them and I'll get to work."
"Very good." He walked away with a swagger in his step.
Debra patted Kenny on the his good shoulder. "You acted with bravery and honor. I'm impressed."
"I'm not," Anne said. "It's damn foolishness and could have gotten him killed."
"Not while I'm here," Debra snarled and laid her hands upon Kenny's wound.
He sighed as the Garou healing eased his pain. "Better."
Anne helped Debra get him to his feet.
Kenny rolled his head to rest lightly on Anne's shoulder. "Beam me up Scotty, there's no intelligent life here."