MudCon was the very bottom of the bottom of the Artist community, not a qualifier for anything greater, not a way into a college. Hell, the military didn’t even come to events like MudCon. That was why Maddy could only get Hall BB and not the main event center, where there was an actual Battle Arena including stadium seating. MudCon was a celebration of the Battle Arts, pure and simple, and Maddy knew that a missed match would give the Con a bad name. It was only the third year.
An early Friday afternoon match meant there wouldn’t be a big crowd. That would save Niko some embarrassment. Stan Howling would do some fire tricks, Niko would get singed a bit, and then go down, easily, when Stan thought it was time.
It wasn’t like he was a main event like Andrew J. Coffey that night. And Niko had come to help Maddy out by buying a ticket and to hang out with Teddy. He'd taken a half-day off from the family business, figuring he’d put in his time at the Con, peruse the vendor room, see Andrew J. Coffey fight, and then go home.
Teddy came tromping down the steps that led to the main hotel. He had his big black backpack, of course. Teodoro Martinez was part man, part backpack, but mostly belly. He rolled on up, grinning at them. “Maddy, you found him! Did he say yes? I mean, he has to say yes, right? You don’t have anyone else. And Niko knows the score. Give the people what they want, right? Tell me I’m wrong.”
Teddy wore black shorts that were ill-named since they fell to his thick calves. He too wore a MudCon T-shirt, but from its inaugural year, 2017. It was a navy-blue color with a single glowing fist on the front and a blue flame on the back. He wore big white running shoes, which he kept unlaced.
“You’re wrong.” Niko didn’t see a way out. Teddy wasn’t in good enough shape to make it the pseudo-spectacle that Stan wanted. “I don’t have robes. I’m not sure I can even do Twin Damage. This is a horrible idea.”
“He’ll do it.” Teddy grabbed his arm and shook him. “Vanessa’s boyfriend has a cousin who’s here. He fought in the first match, but the robes will work for our boy. Nikodemus Kowalczyk, back on the tiles, this ought to be epic. Remember how good he was, Maddy? He could’ve been a contender!”
“Not true.” Niko had to focus on not standing there with his jaws so tight he could press coal into diamonds. “I was a cusp. The agencies were never going to pick me up.”
Maddy’s eyes went from Niko to Teddy and back to Niko. “Sorry, Teddy, I need to hear it from Niko. Will you do it?”
He nodded. How come it felt like he was betraying himself?
Teddy’s smile almost knocked his head off. He looked like he might explode into dancing a musical number, he was so happy. “We’ll get his robes. Is there a green room where he can change? Don’t make our stallion change in the men’s room. He’ll also need to do a little cycling.”
Maddy's eyes wouldn’t leave Niko’s face.
She wanted to hear that he was glad to help, that it wasn’t a big deal, but he couldn’t give that to her. He was going to fight. That was enough.
When he stayed silent, she still smiled at him. “Uh, we have a green room, but it’s not very green. There are meditation mats by the masseuse booth in the vender room.”
“We’ll take it!” Teddy escorted Niko away from Maddy and toward the exhibitors in Hall CC.
People milled about, buying stuff, selling stuff. On the other side of a collapsible wall, the yells of a crowd and the snap and crackle of a Battle Arena cut through the murmuring. Authors were selling novels, graphic artists hawked their comic books, and then you had any number of stalls with Battle Artist gear, robes, mats, weapons, even a full collection of tiles that might set you back a couple thousand dollars. Several apothecaries sold tinctures and vapes to help with the various aspects of cultivation and cycling. Along one wall, attendees could pay to get their picture taken with B-list celebrities from TV shows like Spirits Unleashed and The Dark of Knight. A whole booth was dedicated to Twelve Legends, the ultimate Battle Artist video game.
And of course, people were in Zodiac Overmen cosplay, both from the original comic of the 1930s and the current reboot.
One vendor made Niko smile. Quincy Fire was a Battle Artist who had been working the Con circuit for years. He stood in front of a rack of his books and CDs because not only was he a Battle Artist, he also wrote novels and had a band. Quincy was unmistakable – a big blond Mohawk, tank top, ripped jeans, and combat boots.
Quincy was next to a little daemon shop selling drodes for cell phones. Whitney devices, small black boxes with red lights flashing, filled the shelves. The logos of the big corporations were all over the booth: SoulFire, Rocks & Rams, Anvil Incorporated, and Vannix House. Niko knew that none of those companies were directly involved with the vendor, but the images drew people over. The corporations provided the electricity that powered the world. They also wrote software, provided hardware, and fielded Artists for the League of Battle Artists. The companies were everywhere.
Niko didn’t even pause. He dealt enough with daemons at his day job that he wanted nothing to do with them during his off hours.
A lot of the faces of the vendors were familiar, but no one said hi to Niko. They saved their hellos for Teddy,
