Radiance
With the panel underweay, Lucy and Irma can finally take a moment to breathe. Though they're in position close to the athletes just in case, no eyes are on them. Even Ms. Maple's gaze moves back and forth between the panel and the audience, scrutinizing each for the slightest flaw or an opportunity to exert more control.
However, this position does put both of them close to the entrance to the employee only section. While the athletes speak, Lucy hears something from beyond the door - a thump of shifted furniture or a murmured word. She can't be sure what it is - but she does know there shouldn't be anyone back there.
Gwen Cross, Ivory Ace, Tom Drake
The crowd is treated to a quick summary of each athlete's sport of choice and a brief rundown of their career highlights. It's almost wasted time; the crowd is clearly made up of fans, either of tennis of football in general or of one of the athletes in particular. Nonetheless, the summaries of their histories casts a slightly sad overtone to the proceedings; no one misses that all three athletes are now retired, despite their young age. The feats that made them famous are behind them, for one reason or another.
Still, there's no shortage of enthusiasm from the crowd. After a few softball questions from the Movement for Movement representative to get the momentum going, the microphone opens up to the floor for questions. A line forms immediately, dozens of fans desperate to ask something of the celebrities.
"This question is for Gwen Cross," asks a woman of about eighteen in a tight shirt and a short skirt. "You're, like, a millionaire, right? And you were before you became a cheerleader? Did that affect your decision to
become a cheerleader? If you didn't have that money to fall back on, do you think you'd still have gone into cheerleading? Like, is it a safe career choice? Because, you're not even thirty and you're already out of a job."
"Uh, yeah, Selena Welentleychuk?" A man in his thirties leans in too close to the microphone, looking uncomfortable to be speaking in front of an audience. "I saw the news about your, um, your scandal? And I know you weren't even part of it, so, it's not even fair you got penalized and everything. Um, are you planning to, uh, appeal your ban? I don't think it's fair that you, um, you worked so hard to get where you were and then you lost it because of something you didn't even do. How is that even legal?"
"Drake." A sharp-looking man in his late twenties doesn't hesitate, launching into his question as soon as he gets the microphone. "When you were in the NFL, your had million-dollar contracts every year. I know a lot of players, once their career ends, end up losing all their money because they don't know what to do with it. Can you give us an idea how you invested your money? What would you recommend for athletes who don't know how long their career will last?"
"Miss Cross!" The speaker is a young man, twenty at most, with bright eyes and enough excited energy that his skinny body can barely sit still. "I read how you exposed that senior care facility that was exposing its workers! Does your cheerleading experience help you find this kind of stuff? Do you think there's a part of you, like your personality or something, that led to to become a cheerleader and this kind of social justice thing? Do you think they're connected?"
"Does this look familiar?" A woman around forty makes eye contact with Selena and holds up a fibreglass tennis racket. Selena recognizes it as one of the brands she sponsored during her career. "I bought this racket because your face was on the package and it's probably the best racket I've ever owned. I even bought a spare one online just in case something happens to this one. Do you still get sponsorship deals at all?"
"Will you be signing autographs after this panel, Mr. Drake?" asks a woman in her twenties with a punkish pixie cut and a stud in her eyebrow. She's wearing a Tom Drake jersey that goes down to her mid-thighs, a pair of converse sneakers, and nothing visible in between. She hesitates, glances into the crowd, and gets an encouraging nod from another young woman. Looking back to the panel with a naughty smile, she grabs her breast with her free hand and continues, "I'd love to get this jersey signed...right here."
Doctor West
"Thanks, Trevor," Kenji says. Though less vocal about it than Trevor, he looks just as grateful for the sudden peace and quiet. "So, back when we first saw the other dimension, we got a scene of the Empire executing those political prisoners. Remember that? The executioners had these cybernetic arm blades. We haven't seen them since, including from
anyone else from the other dimension, so I figured, you know, maybe Yamaoka hadn't locked down the design was going to use for his tech. But when Yuriko's boss was fighting her, there was
one panel where he showed those arm blades."
"How can you be sure that means something?" Jagruti asks. "Maybe it is a coincidence. Maybe he didn't remember he had used that design."
"I know. That's why I said I'm not sure it's deliberate. But I've been thinking, and there's something else we've seen..."
Kenji keeps talking, but Trevor is distracted by something over Jagruti's shoulder. As Trevor watches, the entrance to the library opens and people begin to stream in. These aren't like the previous crowd, however; they look determined, purposeful, and not like they're here for fun. All of them are young, athletic adults, and while their clothes vary from T-shirts to suits, they are all dressed in bright, garish, even clashing colours.
There's another thing, too. Each is carrying what looks like a sledgehammer and a brightly coloured balaclava. As they enter the library, they pull the balaclava over their head and head downstairs.
Stalker
The crowd makes it hard for Lucius to get close to the girl with the pixie cut, but he manages to keep her insight. Now that he looks closer, he can tell she's hanging out with another young woman. From the way they stand or talk quietly to each other, they're obviously friends. Neither of them notice Lucius; indeed, the girl he has his eye on is so focused on one of the athletes - Tom Drake - that she probably wouldn't notice if Lucius was looming right over her. She bites her lip and occasionally runs her hand down her body, as if deliberately tempting Lucius to claim her.
The seats are quickly taken, but when the panel opens up to questions from the audience, enough people stand up that Lucius is able to grab a chair. As he tries to sit down, though, a
fit young woman runs into him as she moves through the crowd. She's lithe but strong, and the impact is almost enough to knock Lucius over despite his own size. "Sorry," she says quickly, but pushes past him before he can respond, pushing towards the line for the microphone.
