Con Quest!

This was it.

This was her moment.

The aisle was clear. It was now or never.

Cat threw her arms over her head and launched herself forward. The darkness of Hall M made the floor and ceiling almost indistinguishable from one another as Cat tumbled down the aisle, the room flying from upside down to right side up in seconds over and over and over again. Cat ignored the sounds of surprise from either side of the aisle. She just had to hope that Alex was catching her in all her glory. Seven cartwheels—now eight—now nine—how far was she from—?

“Cat!” She heard her brother’s shouted warning but couldn’t stop herself—her momentum was too strong. Cat’s hands landed on the concrete in front of her, her legs swung over her head—and she crashed right into the microphone stand.

With the loudest amplified clatter ever heard in the history of humankind, Cat landed on her butt on the hard concrete floor, tangled in wire and mic stand. The lime-shirted volunteer stood next to her, and when Cat got her dizziness in check long enough to peer up, she saw that the volunteer looked horrified.

Cat grinned. “Sorry about that!”

The volunteer just stared.

Cat shrugged and stood up, rubbing her tailbone—ouchhhhh—but she was still caught in the mic wires. Cat hopped up and down on one foot while trying to unravel herself.

She heard Alex yell out for her again. “It’s okay!” Cat called back, still distracted by the wire. “We did it! Upload the—”

“You won’t be uploading anything.”

Cat froze, still on one foot, her hands still tugging at the wire tangled around her midsection. She looked up slowly, catching herself just as she was about to tumble over.

James M. marched down the aisle, the back of Alex’s shirt in one hand, her brother’s phone in the other. Last time James M. had managed to capture Alex, her brother had looked distraught. Now, Alex just looked furious.

“Let him go,” Cat said with as much menace as she could muster.

“You two,” James M. spat out, reaching Cat while Alex still struggled to escape his grip, “are the worst part of GeekiCon.”

“Did you mean you?” Alex shot back. James M. ignored him.

“You’re both coming with me to the security office right now,” James M. said, tucking Alex’s phone into his back pocket. “And I am banning you from this convention. For life.”

“Ah, that sounds great, really,” Cat snarked, “but I’m a little tied up right now, so—”

“Enough!” James M. was turning bright red. He lurched forward and began yanking at the cords around Cat’s shoulders, the mic itself swinging back and forth wildly across the floor. The commotion and the noise, projected over the hall’s massive speaker system, was drawing a crowd. As Cat struggled to escape from both the mic and James M., people were gathering around them, standing between the seats on either side of the aisle.

“Get off—” Cat finally managed to spin herself free of the cord in James M.’s hand. Behind James M. and Alex, Cat saw a familiar figure burst from the ever-expanding crowd of gawkers. Late, as usual—the Gallo family way.

“Let him go!” Fi shouted, stopping in the aisle a few feet behind them. “Rowan, help—” Fi looked quickly from side to side. But she was alone. Her new friend was gone.

James M. twisted to look back at Fi. “How did you get in here?” he demanded, shocked.

Fi waved her badge in the air. “Amazing what having an important-looking badge and a smooth-talking friend can do for you.”

James M.’s eyes narrowed. “You’re next,” he growled, before turning back and lunging for Cat’s shirt. Cat danced back out of his reach. With a frustrated yell, James M. tugged on the cord one last time, the microphone sailing through the air and falling into his grip. Cat had never seen someone look so much like a supervillain in real life as this guy did right now. Especially since he still held on to the back of Alex’s shirt with an iron grip.

“You listen to me, you little twerp,” James M. hissed. He spoke quietly—the kind of angry quiet that was the most scary in parents and teachers alike. But it didn’t matter; James M.’s voice came from all sides. The microphone in his hand made sure of that. Cat thought of the scene in the Wormhole finale when one of the angry gods came through the wormhole to destroy the Earth, voice booming. The Wormhole team had stood their ground then.

She would be just as brave now.

“You are the problem with this convention,” James M.’s vitriol boomed, spit flying from the corners of his mouth. He kept stepping toward Cat, and she kept backing up.

“You don’t understand what GeekiCon is about,” James hissed. Cat was very aware that the stage was only a few more steps behind her—she was running out of places to run.

“You think it’s about scavenger hunts and shipping and politics.” He was getting closer.

“Real fans don’t want that. This is my convention. I’m a real fan. And real fans don’t like forced diversity and cancerous feminism. Real fans…” Cat’s back hit the stage. This was it.