Shutters clicked and bulbs flashed. Kenna cringed internally and felt herself trying to withdraw. This was a disaster! This was precisely what she had been trying to avoid! This was unacceptable! Voices roared at her from the darkness beyond the stage lights. Faces blurred together until one was indistinguishable from the others. Her fingers began to knit and un-knit themselves where they hung below her waist. A dull ache began spreading from the base of her skull toward the top of her crown. Suddenly there was a hand at her elbow. She jumped, only to realize that the traitor Canstopolis had shown back up to at least roll back the bus that he had thrown her under. She scowled at him unabashedly and he grinned back, equally shameless. His voice boomed over the dark mass of people.

“Ladies and Gentlemen please! Miss Talbott is a dear, if recent, acquaintance of mine and if everyone will resume their seats, Miss Talbott here will be more than happy to answer your questions.” Quickly, the noise around her dissipated, but the blinding flash bulbs still flickered on. A man stood in the rows of chairs with a hand raised, all she could make of him was his silhouette but Canstopolis apparently recognized him.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Glenn?” he said acknowledging the man.

“Mackenna..Miss Talbott..May we call you Mackenna?” he addressed her and for all the world sounded like he felt awkward about it. Good, the thought uncharitably, That makes two of us.

“Miss Talbott will suffice,” she said stiffly retreating back into her grandmother’s familiar etiquette training. Her spine went ramrod straight, shoulders rolled back, and her chin lifted from where it strained to be tucked into her chest. The posture brought back her steely calm that she so badly needed and her hands ceased their incessant twitching. Gran would have been proud. Meanwhile, the man, Mr. Glenn, seemed to be struggling himself. Perhaps she could take control of this fiasco after all.

“Well....Miss Talbott....ah....what can you tell us about your background and the techniques you employed during the tournament in question?” he choked out. Kenna’s eyes narrowed. Techniques? There was something behind that word that he wasn’t saying. Why won’t he simply say what he means?

“I’m not sure I understand your question, Mr. Glenn. My professional background is in computer software engineering and my success in the tournament was merely the product of effective strategy and well honed execution,” she replied, putting a little more ice in her tone.

“Ah...well, it’s just that it’s rare for someone...like yourself...to compete at this level of game play. You understand that it would be natural to assume you had...help,” he said and let that last word hang there for a moment. Blinding realization flared deep in Kenna’s gut, searing its way through her veins where it iced over inside her chest. This was, yet again, about what was under her skirt and not what about what was in her head. Her jaw clenched and she stared hard at the man’s shape.

“Mr. Glenn, again, I’m afraid I do not understand what you are asking. Are you wondering if my profession offered me any advantage? Or, are you implying that because I lack male genitalia that I would need it?” she replied, her voice dripping with saccharine venom. A ripple of discomfort spread over the room with much nervous fidgeting and uncomfortable muttering in its wake. Kenna glared at every single, faceless one of them and dared them to say something similar. She had been accused of cheating at the one thing that came to her most naturally because she couldn’t possibly be good at it on her own.

“Well, of course I meant no disrespect ma’am...” the quavering man began again attempting to salvage his disaster of an interview. She cut him off there.

“No, you meant to imply it. You meant for me to answer for myself being a woman and being good at a male dominated sport with a smile and pithy comment. You meant to avoid saying the words, but for me to satisfy your chauvinistic assumptions without calling you out for it. That is what you meant Mr. Glenn. When I walked up here, you all assumed that I was some poor intern or secretary that needed to be rescued from your scrutiny. Well, Mr. Glenn, do not confuse me for a maiden in need of saving from some dragon. I am the dragon, and I will swallow you whole.” With her chest heaving, she strode off the stage without so much as a backward glance.

“Mackenna!” a shout sounded behind her. The woman that she had been arguing with (Miss Pine? Ash? Oaks? It had been something to do with trees, she was sure) before she had been unceremoniously shoved onstage was clacking in her wake attempting to catch up to her. Kenna’s eyes were immediately drawn to the woman’s ridiculously high heeled shoes and she began calculating the probability of her tripping before she reached her. Curiosity won out over reason and to her immense disappointment, she was caught up before probability could take its due course.

“Mackenna!” the woman huffed as she drew level. “You were amazing out there! Jason knew you would be, but that was just fantastic...” she gushed breathlessly. Kenna’s irritation flared once again.

“He knew that would happen, didn’t he? I was just put up there for some publicity stunt.” Kenna said flatly. The older woman had the good grace to blush. As she opened her mouth to speak, a booming voice carried from behind the main stage area that they had just left.

“Ah! There you are Miss Talbott!” It was Jason Canstopolis striding toward them, his eyes zeroing in on Kenna. When he reached them, he gave the other woman a dismissive smile and said, “Thank you, Mrs. Woods, that will be all.” Woods (she knew trees had been involved) jerked a nod and flashed another smile at Kenna before clopping away in her death-trap shoes. Kenna watched her go and suddenly the massive drain of this whole ordeal crashed over her. She needed to get home. But the man in the suit that hovered at her elbow most definitely had other ideas. “Mackenna, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened out there. That wasn’t fair to you,” he said with what sounded very much like genuine remorse. But as she looked up into his olive skinned face she could see something behind his eyes that spoke more of amusement than regret. Also, she noticed him change from calling her only “Miss Talbott” to “Mackenna”. There was something that he still wanted from her. Her chest tightened, this was just too much. She needed to get home.

“You can email me if there is anything else, but first I need to call a cab. Excuse me,” she made to walk away; but he stepped into her path, that perfect mask of contrition never wavering.

“Please, at least allow me to send you home in one of our company cars as a way of apology,” he beseeched her with Oscar-worthy aplomb. She considered for a moment. She hated cabs, they smelled of cigarettes and other people’s sweat and she doubted very much if the company sedan for Orpheus Gaming International did. It was a tempting offer. Canstopolis took her hesitation for consent with enthusiasm and whipped out his cell phone to call for the car.

“Joseph...right...front entrance....twenty?...” he looked chagrined as he covered the mouth piece with his hand and leaned his head toward her instead to say, “Joseph says it will be twenty minutes or so before he can reach the entrance, the traffic is backed up with some concert or the other.” She frowned. Well that certainly is convenient, she thought. But if that were the case then a cab couldn’t get to her any faster, and then there was the sweat issue....she supposed she would wait for the car. Kenna nodded to him and he looked as if she had made his day, he gave Joseph the green light as he flashed a dazzlingly white smile that was far too full of teeth.

“While we are waiting, there is someone I would like to introduce you too,” he said still smiling. And there it is, she thought. Something of her lack of enthusiasm must have shown on her face because when he caught her expression he quickly added, “Oh, nothing like that circus back there. Just one of our investors was in town and she wanted to meet you if at all possible.” He was already steering her toward an open conference room door before she could respond. “She’s waiting around as well and I am sure that the two of you will get along swimmingly. Her conference call with the board of directors should be in just about half an hour. Isn’t that lucky?” he grinned. Kenna doubted very much if luck had anything to do with it.

The closer they got to that open door the more sure that she had been summoned here specifically to meet with this woman, whomever she was and that the fiasco with the reporter had been just an opportunity to make a buck for the developer. Her stomach constricted as she was all but shoved into the (mostly) empty conference room. Natural light flooded the room, easing the pinching headache that the artificial florescent lights always caused. It was simply and elegantly decorated resplendent with dark wood furniture that shone with polish. Even more elegant and gleaming was the woman across the table that watched her clumsy entrance with cool detachment. Dark eyes tracked her every movement and Kenna knew that they missed nothing. Luminous chestnut hair was woven into a crown around her temples and her skin gleamed perfect and porcelain. Her navy suit was impeccably pressed and tailored. Kenna felt positively shabby by comparison. While her own skin was equally pale, it never shone like that and she was fairly sure that this woman was never patronized by anyone. She exuded power, confidence, and control. As the other woman stood, she offered her hand to Kenna who shook it tentatively. She gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite her. Kenna attempted to sit with as much poise as possible while luxuriating in sitting in the quiet room with this self composed person. The woman observed her for a moment and seemed to be satisfied with her enough to speak at last.

“My name is Diana Parthenos, and I have been looking forward to meeting you for some time Mackenna Talbott,” she said. Her voice was low and smooth, neither gentle nor harsh in its tone. Her mouth formed the words and Kenna’s ears took them in; but there was something else in between those words. Her voice was low and smooth, neither gentle nor harsh in its tone and she could feel it resonate in her chest. The unspoken words said I know who you are, I know what you are, and I know why you are because we are the same, you and I. Kenna doubted very much that she were the same as this powerful woman in front of her. She smiled, and even though it was kind enough there was no mistaking the danger there. It told her that she did not want to make an enemy of this person. Kenna’s etiquette training took over again as her brain had obviously gone on auto-pilot.

“It is nice to meet you as well,” she stated and as she didn’t know what name she preferred or what honorific she settled without one. Diana smiled again and seemed to accept this.

“My associate tells me that you caused quite the commotion with the press,” she said calmly and Kenna opened her mouth to attempt to explain but was cut off as Diana pressed on. “I, myself, have always greatly admired dragons.” The statement both shocked and thrilled Kenna. She had managed to impress this woman who seemed to be everything the she aspired to be. “And that is why, Mackenna, that I’m offering you an opportunity,” she said at last.

“What kind of an opportunity?” she said and she could not manage to mask the distrust in her voice as well as she wanted. Diana not only seemed not to mind, but nodded approvingly at her skepticism.

“We are launching an exclusive invitation-only tournament as a Beta test for our new Virtual Reality platform. Sponsors such as myself will watch the tournament and as old pro’s we will offer our advice and aid to our champions without directly interfering with the competition. There will be twelve winners all together but only one grand prize winner. The winner of the grand prize will be given the opportunity to live a lifestyle that many can’t even dream of,” she spoke each word carefully as if to make sure that Kenna fully comprehended the magnitude of what she was being offered. But she had had enough for today.

“While I appreciate your generous offer, I’m afraid I have to decline,” she said and the words seemed to drag out of her. Diana arched a manicured eyebrow but she pressed on, “I started doing this because I wanted an escape from the confines of this world. I wanted to create and explore and maybe even encounter people like myself, but I see now that that has become impossible. I can’t be myself and expect others to respect me after this.” That eyebrow arched higher still.

“So, some inconsequential little mortal insults you and accuses you of being something that you’re clearly not and you want to quit?” she asked, disdain coloring her voice slightly.

“No, that’s not it at all. I wanted to compete and create my own world, my own reality, my own refuge away from this world that not only doesn’t understand me but doesn’t want to. They want to stuff me in my own little Betty Crocker corner and expect me to be happy about it. Now, my refuge wants to type-cast me too, they want a “gamer girl” to market. They will want me to be pretty and polite and competitive. But not too competitive, because that’s still for the boys,” the outburst came out with a bitter edge that had been rising up in her chest since she stormed off stage. Diana’s smile became a genuine conspirator’s grin.

“Then show them who you are. Make them understand, level them under their own ignorance. Compete in this last tournament and if you still want to retire MackBot at the end, I won’t stop you. Until then, I will be in your corner every step of the way,” she said fiercely. Kenna hesitated again and she could see on Diana’s face that she knew that she had won. The other woman whipped an impossibly thin tablet out of her bag and slid it toward her.

“Here is the tournament contract. Look it over and if you accept, check the radio button at the bottom.”

Kenna skimmed over the contract but her head swam. She was exhausted, hungry, and more than anything, furious that her refuge had been ripped away from her so soon. So, she scrolled down to the bottom and added to her own name to those who perpetrate the most common lie told by humankind and clicked: “I Agree to the Terms and Conditions.”