Arcadia-Con by Richard Ashley Hamilton

Author:Richard Ashley Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Spotlight

CHAPTER 12

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVELY

“I have the news that is bad and the news that is less bad,” Krel said to Aja. “Which would you like to receive first?”

The siblings had just found each other in the food court, where Aja drank directly from the nacho cheese dispenser, trying to fill her stomach—if not the emptiness she felt in her core. A vague sense of failure had followed Aja from the fashion exhibit. The more she thought about those warrior queens on display, the more she felt she didn’t match their level of posterior-kicking-ness. Wiping the molten cheese off her face, Aja said, “The news that is bad, I suppose.”

“I have located Varvatos Vex at a human gaming tournament,” answered Krel.

“How is that bad?” asked Aja.

“Because he’s acting just like Varvatos Vex at a human gaming tournament!” said Krel.

“BELAYA!” they heard Vex shout again from afar. “Destiny has rolled a hard six and comes to deplete you of your health points! So swears Varvatos Vex of the Taylon Phalanx—and now the Guild of the Wizard Knights! Huzzah!”

“Huzzah!” echoed a nasal, nerdy chorus.

“And the less-bad news?” Aja asked.

Krel pointed at the fine print on his Arcadia-Con badge and said, “These passes admit us into the Gun Robot premiere. We do not even have to sleep in that shantytown outside!”

“I see,” Aja said glumly. “And you want us to go into the theater and make fun of the movie.”

“Er, I suppose,” Krel said. “Although I am now more interested in the movie’s story than in its faulty logic. This Gun Robot fellow intrigues me. . . .”

Krel surprised himself, even as he said the words. True, he had gone into Arcadia-Con expecting the very worst humanity had to offer. And in many cases, he’d seen it.

Then again, in thinking back to his undisputed reign at the Go-Go Sushi dance floor, Krel discovered that his stance had softened. Somewhat. For once, people on this planet complimented him instead of questioned him. Krel had identified several of them from school earlier—and identified with them. No matter their age, gender, or ethnicity, it seemed to the displaced princeling that these teens all had one thing in common: They felt uncomfortable in their own skins. Just like Krel did on Earth.

“No, thank you, little brother,” said Aja. “I am not feeling up it right this mekron.”

“Is it the mass quantities of processed-cheese product you consumed?” asked Krel.

“No—urp!” Aja belched. “Although that probably isn’t helping.”

She took a few steps forward, her high-top sneakers sticking to the syrupy, soda-coated floors. Thousands of people enjoyed themselves all around Aja, their grinning faces beaming at the various diversions that competed for their attention. Mother had landed in Arcadia Oaks not long ago, yet Aja was hard-pressed to recall a time when she saw so many humans so happy.

“It’s all just so . . . overwhelming,” Aja said to Krel. “Why is it that so many of these humans appear more cheerful in their pretend costumes than in their normal lives? All the characters they seek to emulate are just that: characters.

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