door, no threat of being mistaken for the swashbucklers that they feigned to portray.
Paul went to the bar to get drinks for the two of them while Maid Marion stopped to talk to a group of ghouls. As he passed the French doors leading out to the expansive patio surrounding the lagoon-style pool, he couldn’t help but notice the two lone figures braving the cool night air while the rest of the guests crowded the well-decorated inner quarters. One of the men was dressed as Sir Lancelot, and was unmistakably Sean Lightbourne. The other, a white-wigged American patriot, looked so familiar…. Paul was about to knock on the glass to get Sean’s attention, when he noticed that the two were in a rather heated discussion. He briefly considered braving the long line at the bar, but curiosity got the better of him.
The French doors were ajar, and with a gentle push, Paul and the party music came pouring out the door together. The noise startled the men out of whatever it was they had been so passionately discussing.
“Paul,” Sean called, obviously caught off guard. “Uh…come here, let me introduce you to Senator Russell Stetson.”
“Ah, I knew you looked familiar.”
“Wig didn’t fool you, huh?” Stetson laughed mechanically like a true politician.
“Just a little, Senator.”
“Call me Russ, please.”
“OK…Russ, nice to meet you.” Paul extended his hand. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. What did I interrupt? It looked pretty intense.”
“Ah,” Sean said with a flip of his hand, “just politics…you know. I recognized the senator and just couldn’t resist putting in a plug for nanobot therapy. He’s on the Senate Subcommittee on Nanotechnology, you know.”
“Uh, yeah, Sean. I kind of keep up on that nanobot stuff.”
Sean laughed nervously, realizing that it had been a rather stupid comment. He and Paul had often talked about the influence the subcommittee would have over the practical use of their work. “Well, in spite of what you’ve heard, he seems OK to me.” The three men shared a half-hearted laugh.
Paul thought the whole thing was rather strange, but decided to let it rest. “Well, the Maid Marion’s waiting for her whiskey sour. I dare not disappoint. Nice meeting you, Russ.”
“Likewise, Paul. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”
Paul nodded and smiled, then went back into the warmth of the house. Sean Lightbourne and Russell Stetson watched until he was safely inside.
“What do you think he’s up too, Sean?”
“Ah, nothin’.” Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Paul’s a good guy, not the sort to look for trouble.”
“Well, he looked a bit odd to me, like something was on his mind that he didn’t want us to know about.”
“Nah. Paul’s a real up-front kind of guy. The only thing on his mind tonight is how quickly he can make a graceful exit from this party. He’s a jeans and T-shirt man, definitely not the Robin Hood Men in Tights type. I’ll bet the lovely Maid Marion talked him into that one.”
The two men laughed. They turned toward the pool as the sound of a brightly colored array of lighted waterspouts leaped from the rock wall at the far side of the patio, and splashed down into the pool.
“God. That’s ostentatious even for JT,” Senator Stetson muttered.
“Yeah, but it sure is pretty.”
They sipped on their hot spiced cider, cupping the kiln-fired mugs to keep warm.
___
Paul thanked the bartender and picked up the two glasses, a whiskey sour for the lady, Scotch on the rocks for the king of thieves. Just as he was about to turn away, he felt a slap on the back.
“So, how’s my loyal subject this fine All Hallow’s Eve.” The greeting was followed by a hearty belly laugh, meant to be very regal but sounding more like Santa Claus after one-too-many eggnogs.
He struggled to keep the drinks from spilling onto his expensive rental costume as he
Paul went to the bar to get drinks for the two of them while Maid Marion stopped to talk to a group of ghouls. As he passed the French doors leading out to the expansive patio surrounding the lagoon-style pool, he couldn’t help but notice the two lone figures braving the cool night air while the rest of the guests crowded the well-decorated inner quarters. One of the men was dressed as Sir Lancelot, and was unmistakably Sean Lightbourne. The other, a white-wigged American patriot, looked so familiar…. Paul was about to knock on the glass to get Sean’s attention, when he noticed that the two were in a rather heated discussion. He briefly considered braving the long line at the bar, but curiosity got the better of him.
The French doors were ajar, and with a gentle push, Paul and the party music came pouring out the door together. The noise startled the men out of whatever it was they had been so passionately discussing.
“Paul,” Sean called, obviously caught off guard. “Uh…come here, let me introduce you to Senator Russell Stetson.”
“Ah, I knew you looked familiar.”
“Wig didn’t fool you, huh?” Stetson laughed mechanically like a true politician.
“Just a little, Senator.”
“Call me Russ, please.”
“OK…Russ, nice to meet you.” Paul extended his hand. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. What did I interrupt? It looked pretty intense.”
“Ah,” Sean said with a flip of his hand, “just politics…you know. I recognized the senator and just couldn’t resist putting in a plug for nanobot therapy. He’s on the Senate Subcommittee on Nanotechnology, you know.”
“Uh, yeah, Sean. I kind of keep up on that nanobot stuff.”
Sean laughed nervously, realizing that it had been a rather stupid comment. He and Paul had often talked about the influence the subcommittee would have over the practical use of their work. “Well, in spite of what you’ve heard, he seems OK to me.” The three men shared a half-hearted laugh.
Paul thought the whole thing was rather strange, but decided to let it rest. “Well, the Maid Marion’s waiting for her whiskey sour. I dare not disappoint. Nice meeting you, Russ.”
“Likewise, Paul. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”
Paul nodded and smiled, then went back into the warmth of the house. Sean Lightbourne and Russell Stetson watched until he was safely inside.
“What do you think he’s up too, Sean?”
“Ah, nothin’.” Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Paul’s a good guy, not the sort to look for trouble.”
“Well, he looked a bit odd to me, like something was on his mind that he didn’t want us to know about.”
“Nah. Paul’s a real up-front kind of guy. The only thing on his mind tonight is how quickly he can make a graceful exit from this party. He’s a jeans and T-shirt man, definitely not the Robin Hood Men in Tights type. I’ll bet the lovely Maid Marion talked him into that one.”
The two men laughed. They turned toward the pool as the sound of a brightly colored array of lighted waterspouts leaped from the rock wall at the far side of the patio, and splashed down into the pool.
“God. That’s ostentatious even for JT,” Senator Stetson muttered.
“Yeah, but it sure is pretty.”
They sipped on their hot spiced cider, cupping the kiln-fired mugs to keep warm.
___
Paul thanked the bartender and picked up the two glasses, a whiskey sour for the lady, Scotch on the rocks for the king of thieves. Just as he was about to turn away, he felt a slap on the back.
“So, how’s my loyal subject this fine All Hallow’s Eve.” The greeting was followed by a hearty belly laugh, meant to be very regal but sounding more like Santa Claus after one-too-many eggnogs.
He struggled to keep the drinks from spilling onto his expensive rental costume as he
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