Wizards, of course, have had other uses for it. Not too long ago it had been used to stage the last defense of Earth against the inbound darkness of the Pullulus: the inhabitants of the defended planet could see nothing of the heroism or tragedy that ensued. Now, though, the space had been prepped and reclaimed for the Invitational, as it had been a number of times before.
Up on the mountainous rim of the crater, a teenager in a personal force field shield looked down into the heart of the crater and saw something shining and iridescent as a soap bubble resting over the peaks at the crater’s center. An area about the size of Manhattan Island, in terms of square mileage, had been domed over with wizardry, filled with air, and warmed: and in that space she could see the movement of the Invitational’s spectators, getting themselves settled.
There were other things going on. Much closer to the rim, near where Nita was standing, someone had laid out a baseball field in the gray regolith, and batting practice was in progress.
“Come on, put it over the plate—”
“No hitter, no hitter!”
Nita watched one solidly hit fastball arch up and out into the darkness, wondering idly how hard you had to hit a ball up here to make sure it reached escape velocity.
Two point three eight kilometers per second, Bobo said.
“Thanks for that,” Nita said. “I have no idea what that’s going to feel like when you’re batting . . .”
Probably about like a triple against the centerfield wall.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Nita said.
She became aware that someone was standing beside her. An older teenager, wearing a portable mechanical force field generator belted into the small of her back, was holding up a sleek black tablet-camera and photographing the batting practice.
“If I didn’t know better,” Nita said to Carmela, “I’d think you were stalking me.”
“Kind of too busy for that,” Carmela said, turning the tablet in her hands from portrait to landscape orientation and grabbing another shot of the baseball field.
Nita gazed at the device admiringly. “Where did you get that?”
“At the Crossings,” Carmela said. “Sker’ret got it for me. Take a look at this—” She flashed its shiny black front face at Nita. “That whole thing is a camera. Perfect definition, like looking through a window. Standalone 3D, you name it . . . it’s fabulous. Sker’ret wants lots of video.”
“Want me to give you a lift down to the center?” Nita said. “My dad’s down there . . . I want to check on him before I go back down to Antartica.”
“I’ll give you one if you like,” Carmela said. “Sker’s given me a point-and-shoot gating locus, it hooks into the hex he’s installed down there.”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later they were stepping out of the bold blue tracery of the Daedalus gate hex and looking around at the crowds. The center section, closest to one of the in-crater peaks, was empty at the moment, reserved for the competitors, their support teams, and the wizardries that would be worked there. But around the reserved center, a huge crowd of people were standing, sitting, lounging, or just hanging around, waiting for the event to begin.
Nita parted company with Carmela and went wandering along toward where she’d left her dad and Nelaid. As she was getting close to their location, some activity off to one side caught her eye, and when the figures causing it got close enough she could see Matt at the head of them, bounding along through the gray dust of the crater toward her. Like a kangaroo, she thought, amused. A crowd of others came along with him, among them the twychild Tuyet and Nguyet and Matt’s small dark Egyptian boyfriend Doki, whom Nita was glad to meet at last.
“Looking for the best spot?” Matt said. “You might try up the crater’s slope a ways, the view’s a bit more panoramic . . .”
“Nope,” Nita said, “I’ve got my people settled. If I can just keep my dad from filling every available container with Moon rocks to take home, everything’ll be fine.”
Matt laughed, then looked at Nita keenly. “And how are you holding up? You were having some weird dreams, I hear.”
“You on the clock for medical support already?”
“Not yet. Soon, though. And anyway, thought I’d check.”
She shrugged. “Just par for the course, lately.”
“Okay,” Matt said. “You know, though, anything starts bothering you, you shouldn’t hesitate to call.”
“Yeah,” Nita said. “Irina sent along a message about that after she got done reaming Kit and Penn out.”
“Would’ve liked to have been a fly on the wall for that one,” Matt said.
Nita smiled sourly. “You’re not alone.”
“Where’s Kit?”
“Down in the Blue Room right now. Mostly he’s keeping Penn calm.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. “Wow, kind of a role switch. That was your job, I thought.”
“Well, Kit’s gotten better at doing it. Fortunately they won’t have to keep it up much longer . . . they’re both going crazy being kind to each other to stay on Irina’s good side. I’m scared one of them’s going to sprain something.” Matt snorted. “Meanwhile, Irina sent me up to have a look at the crowd and see if they were settled in.” Nita looked out across the expanse of the crater. “I have to confess, all these lawn chairs make me laugh.”
And there were a lot of them. Nita’s manual told her that three thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three humans were up here to see the Invitational’s final phase, along with various cats, dogs, dolphins, and a few stray whales. Since the whole center of the crater had been domed over and climate-controlled with wizardry, the human visitors had been extremely proactive about bringing the comforts of home with them: the whole place had the look of a rather monochrome tailgate picnic. Even Nita’s dad had made arrangements to bring supplies when he came up with Nelaid, and had arrived with his own lawn chairs and a beer cooler.
“It is kind of crazy,” Matt said. “Worth enjoying while it lasts. But listen, before you go, I’ve got something to show you—”
Doki and the twychild were suddenly all attention. Matt pulled his jacket open. Inside it was a dark blue T-shirt that said in white letters:
HI THERE
I’M HERE TO
SAVE YOUR LIFE
AND BY THE WAY
I’M GAY
Nita covered her face and laughed helplessly. “Oh, God, Matt. You’re wearing this to torment me. Take it off!”
The Twychild laughed uproariously. “Ooooo, Nita!”
“I might have to explain!”
“When two guys—”
“Or girls—”
“Or whatever—”
“Love each other a whole lot—”
“Then they get snuggly—”
“And sometimes if one of them asks the other to, you know, take their clothes off—”
“It could be misunderstood!”
“Which is why you should always use the Speech in such discussions—”
“Because then you can use the phrase me’hei tha sam’te instead of ‘take it off’—”
“Which there are just too many ways to misunderstand in what’s laughably called Our Common Tongue.”