The gamer pulls his hiking backpack off and sits down in a collapsible lawn chair next to Stephen. Blade & Bolt players, marketing executives, citizen reporters, Homeland Security and Secret Service agents, foreigners, celebrities and their entourages swarm around Stephen's tent. Marcus turns in his chair, looking from side to side for a break in the sea of on-lookers. "Chaotic, I know," Stephen speaks loudly and leans in toward Marcus. "Listen, I am sorry this is going to be rushed. Your are the number one poster on en-world.com with intelligent well-crafted posts on B&B, Shadowrun, Call of Cthulhu and Castle Falkenstein. I also hit your Flickr account and viewed your pics from your last three trips to GameCon."
A shout interrupts, "Stephen-", "Stephen, is it true, Stephen, that Bryong murdered Lieutenant Joseph Granger at your command and that Bryong and her rogue elf bodyguard are now heading here to rendezvous with you to go through the portal and escape justice here on earth?" Marcus shakes his head as a dozen Blade & Bolt players surround the reporter, each holding up his character sheet and regaling the reporter with stories of their table-top adventures. Stephen laughs as the reporter is caught up in a ripple of caffeine-fueled table-top RPGers moving out toward the fringes of the now sprawling Mount Gibbes basecamp. “I am not sure how you can laugh at that. Actually, Stephen, I am amazed you have not been taken into Government custody. This is a first contact situation. This is the first time Earth will make contact with sentient beings from a planet other than Earth. How are the nations of the world allowing you as much control as you have in this situation,” Marcus asks.
Stephen nods, “You are right. I am incredibly fortunate to have been able to orchestrate this much control. I can tell you without hesitation that primarily it is thanks to the table-top roleplaying game community. They are brilliant. And why wouldn’t they be? They all play a game that requires you to read 300 to 900 pages of rules just to get started. So the first person that helped me avoid being arrested by the US on sight is Quinn McShan. She is a sophomore from Brigham Young. Quinn laced together the intricate communication process I used to simultaneously engage and negotiate with the US, UN and China. The chain of communication included ham radio, sequences of playlists from mp3 music pirating sites, chat logs, disposable cell phones and hand-written notes carried by bike messengers as a back channel when necessary. All of the details of constructing this communication had to be worked out using emailed text files wrapped in PIG encryption. Quinn helped me to make it clear to the US, UN and China that I was the only possessor to the key to the gate to Thrycion. Once I did that I was able to leverage one government against another to arrange to take each nation's leader across to the new world. Quinn's role in helping me to get everything arranged in a short period of time was critical. No less than three dozen others risked much to make something happen that most people would have dismissed as fairy tale. With the news feeds spreading the video and stories of what happened on Winifred’s show, coupled with the rumors that were spreading like wildfire about the two navel officers deaths from Kinewyn and Bryong's escape, I was quickly designated as a suspect in federal and international investigations. By engaging US, UN and China simultaneously I was able to convince the US government that if they did not cooperate with my plan to open the gate in the USA I would open the gate in Japan or India. As soon as it was clear that there would be difficulty capturing me and in controlling the burgeoning amount of information being released through the US’ free press about Thrycion, the US government changed its priorities from capturing me to ensuring I opened the gate on US soil. Things dominoed fast after that and I was able to negotiate the suspension of investigations into Cynthia’s death. Once the US was not trying to arrest me it was not difficult to get the UN and China on board.”
Stephen grimaces, "Anyway, that’s not this sitdown is about. You're in; you're going with me to Thrycion. Since I got here this morning I have been pressed for meetings with the President, the leader of the UN, the British prime minister, the Russian President and the Chinese President. I thought I was going to be able to hand pick 60 Blade & Bolt players from this crowd but I don't think I will have the freedom or mobility to do that. I think if I am not engaging with these diplomats it could get uncomfortable for the RPGers who answered my call and congregated here. I want to avoid threats so I am going to alternate my meetings, government officials, Blade & Bolt players, government officials, Blade & Bolt players. That means I need help filling out the 60 Blade & Bolt players. I need you to pick 15 Blade & Bolt players by 7 PM tonight. That is two hours before I bring everyone through the portal. I want each gamer you pick to be from a different state or country. Can you do that?"
Marcus rubs his hands back forth on the ragged cargo pants he is wearing, "I can do that. Thank you for trusting me." Stephen stands and offers his a hand. Marcus stands and shakes his head. "No. I am weird about people touching me. I will text you the name of my picks as I make them in case you want to Google them." "Excellent," Stephen pulls out a new smart phone from a belt pouch. The two exchange phones, quickly dialing the others phone. "Thanks again." Marcus grabs his pack and ducks back out into the throng. Stephen breaths in deeply, exhales. He pokes his head out of the tent and calls to a Prada quaffed Beltway Type A, "Ellen I am ready to see POTUS. Bring him on in."
"Listen to me. Their teeth are long sharp and gnarled. They are going to tear up the top on our current 20 ounce bottle. Frankly, I don't think plastic is going to work at all. Call Porter – no, go down to his office and ask him about his son at Princeton. When he's done grousing about him not picking up physics as his major I want you to talk to Porter about mass producing wooden bottles. I know, I know I don't give a fu-. No, no, it does not matter if we lose $1.50 a bottle for the next three years. This is about locking down the Thrycion orc community as cola PopCo dedicated imbibers for the next three centuries." Rachel throws a half smoked Marlboro on the loamy Virginia soil and grinds it with brand new Eddie Bauer WeatherEdge Shearling boot. "I'm not trying to ignore your input. I just don't have a lot of margin for error here." A portly Asian woman wearing a Homestar Runner t-shirt jostles passed her, turns, apologizes and is briskly shoved back.
"Move on, doofus," Rachel places one finger in her ear. "I hear you. Tell Huntroy that PepInc bottling has John Deckama and Tracy Croy down here and then tell him I need another 50K cash down here within 90 minutes." Rachel concentrates to hear the response. "Hey, can we get a picture?" An affable young man steps in front of Rachel holding up his cell phone at two Star Wars cosplayers. A tall lanky Stormtrooper looks puzzled at a brown clad bounty hunter next to him. The cosplayer the Stormtrooper is looking at is wearing Princess Leia's disguise for infiltrating Jabba's sanctum in "Return of the Jedi". Rachel knows this because of the cute CSS designer she lived with for a year and a half after her divorce. He watched the Stars Wars movies over and over in the same manner she read and re-read Jane Austin novels. She had liked his performance tuned BMW and the options dollars paid-for outfits he bought that were straight from the first ten pages of the latest GQ magazine. She did not like that he had left her because she had not spent more than 30 consecutive minutes with him in 3 months. Just like her miserable ex-husband.
Two Blade & Bolt players stepped up to the requesting cell phone photographer. "Sorry, we are in a hurry. Nother time." A pretty college student hustles the cosplayers passed the young man. Rachel curses under her breath, thinking that something is really wrong. "Listen, I have to go right now. Make sure I have that 50k here within the next 90 minutes." Rachel hits the end key and stuffs the smart phone into her new khaki vest, hustles to follow the cosplayers. The college girl leading the cosplayers stops and stands on her toes. She runs her hands through through shoulder length brown hair and peers around until she spies a large tent with a flag. The flag is emblazoned with a twenty-sided die icon. She gathers the cosplayers to her and heads toward the flag. Rachel notices that the tall Stormtrooper glances around before following. Rachel laughs. The Princess Leia is holding her blaster backwar
ds with the barrel pointed at her stomach. Rachel runs, rushing passed Blade & Bolt players, corporate reps and reporters. She cuts a trail of cursing bystanders and displaces students and fanboys. "Hold up, sister." Rachel grabs the college girl by her polar fleece. "I need a word with you-" The college girl throws a hand up, knocking loose Rachel's grip. "Let go of me," she spits, annoyance radiating off of her.
The college girl steps back and takes in Rachel. The Stormtrooper and the bounty hunter are now still, watching. "Get out of our way. We are in a hurry." Rachel steps forward and leans into the college girl. The college girl sniffs and wrinkles her nose at the mix of new clothes, Burberry and two packs a day. "I would be in a hurry too if I was escorting two extraterrestrial fugitives who are wanted for the deaths of two US air force pilots. I am not a reporter, a cop or a government agent but if you don’t follow me this very instant I am going to shout your Thrycion friends' names at the top of my lungs and you can bet that every reporter, cop or government agent on the ground here at First Contact Central is going to be on you like an overweight gamer on a extra cheese burrito."
Marcia stops and her taut, hurried stance unwinds. "What do you want?" Rachel gives Marcia some room and motions in a friendly way for her and the cosplayers to come closer. "My RV," Rachel points to a gleaming half-million dollar tour bus with PopCo corporate red and blue colors. "I want just ten minutes of your time to talk. That's it." Marcia glares at the ad executive and for moment she begins to raise her hand to call Kinewyn and Bryong into action, but even as she does her hand is pushed down by huckster pushing passed to hand a bottled water to a customer for three times its retail price. Too many people around. Marcia nods in consent
Rachel leads them through the crowd and into the trailer. A middle-aged man in khakis and a polo sits hunched over a keyboard in from four large LCD monitors built into the wall. "Hey, Rachel I just got three designs for bottle wrappers for you to choose from. That new Korean guy is fantastic; clean lines, simple design, but with quirky-" Rachel, interrupts, "Thanks, Jason, good work. I need the trailer right now. Go find Marcus and let him know we definitely have two people going through to Thrycion and we are going to need every every single thing on the list I gave him earlier. Two of each item." The man saves, closes all of his applications and stands. "Got it." He heads out of the trailer and the sound of the crowd breaks into the luxurious PopCo buses' interior for a moment before he closes and locks the door behind him.
Rachel walks to the far end of the RV and sit in an area with three plush leather seats. "Don’t be obstinate, sit." Marcia hesitates before nodding to Bryong to join her and as she sits. Kinewyn remains standing. The ad executive goes to lights a cigarette and frowns and pushes the cigaretter back into the back. "I am sorry I had to threaten you. You and Bryong and Kinewyn know probably better than most of the people out there how fast things are happening right now. In exactly," Rachel pulls her cell phone out to check the time," "One hour and 47 minutes Earth will be joined to Thrycion through this portal that Stephen Cairnhist discovered. First contact with an alien world populated by humans, elves, orcs and dragons. Not what anyone expected? Now -" Marcia raises a hand. "You are wrong. Christopher Korbach discovered the portal. And he did it before Stephen was even alive." Marcia shakes her head before continuing, "What the hell do you want? I just spent the last 36 hours without sleep transporting Bryong and Kinewyn over four state lines to get them within a quarter mile of Stephen without them being arrested. So please, cut to the chase and explain why I am a talking to an ill-informed suit from a soda company." The silence in the hermetically sealed interior of the RV presses down.
Rachel shifts forward. "OK. The reason you are talking to me is because I need to make sure that PopCo is selling our soft drinks to every orc on Thrycion within the next fiscal quarter." Marcia stands. "What? Is that what this is about? Humanity finds out it is not alone in the universe and hawking soft drinks is your first concern!" Rachel shifts back into the white leather behind her. "You know what. I am not particularly interested in a social conscience lesson from a coed whose biggest responsibility is making sure next semesters tuition check make it to the bursar's office. Yes, first contact is history, so was the death of Julius Caesar, the first shot of the civil war, the first stamp of the Gutenberg press. Do you think business is suspended because the world changes? No, the world changes because business never stops. And just because you never got around to reading "Atlas Shrugged" doesn't mean you get to thumb you nose at me. Now you have a choice. I can make sure that not only do you, Kinewyn and Bryong get reunited with Stephen but that Stephen remains free to open the portal to Thrycion and return to Earth without becoming a prisoner of the US government. And trust me the odds of that happening are increasing as we speak. Or if you refuse to work with me, you and Bryong and Kinewyn can become prisoners of the ATF officers that are 50 meters out that door. Make your choice." Marcia looks at Kinewyn.
Kinewyn removes his storm trooper helmet. His golden hair falls down on the white plastic of his shoulders. He locks Elven eyes on Rachel. "Your threats are clear. What you ask of us is not." The PopCo product manager does not hesitate, "I want one thing only. To go through the portal with you."
Chapter 18