Things to Come

Not a fanfic, but a fandom fic! Just a silly idea that occured to me several weeks ago during my giddy exchanges with the esteemed Authors of the Companion over certain typesetting issues. It's not complete (no ending, as per usual), so I hesitated to post it, but once I saw the Deano Royale thread, I knew it had to see the light of day somehow. Now that the Lifer Con is already being planned out for a few years into the future, I thought you might like to see where it will inevitably end up. :)


The Shape of Things to Come

MANCHESTER, ENGLAND, 2039 A.D.

The street outside the hotel was abuzz with excitement
as the voices of hundreds of people jostling each other
to make their way inside mixed with the faint sound of
music coming from the PA system inside. The crowd
inside steadily streamed towards the large conference
rooms at the center of the hotel. The staff had been
forced to take down the partitions between the multiple
rooms to create one large auditorium with ample space to
facilitate the huge convention.

At one end of the hall, a stage had been set up; all
eyes turned to the podium as a beaming woman stepped up
to the microphone. A few voices from the front of the
crowd called out "Yayster! Yayster!" She smiled
graciously and waved to her friends and then turned to
try to silence the crowd so the program could begin.
"Thank you, thank you all so much for coming. It is my
great pleasure to welcome you all to the opening
ceremonies of this, our 25th Annual International Lifer
Con!" The crowd went wild with loud applause.
"Before we being, I'm sorry to report that Prime
Minister Glenister will be unable to attend this year's
opening ceremony as was originally scheduled. He was
called away on pressing matters of state and sends his
apologies." A large group of fans wearing green shirts
and tan coats moaned loudly and shouted words of
displeasure.

When the complaints finally died down, she continued.
"I am, however, very happy to report that our fund
raising goal has been met and we have been successful in
booking our chosen act to open the show. The funds have
been wisely spent accelerating a Frank Sinatra clone, so
without any further ado, may I present to you, for the
first time anywhere, a duet with Mr. Sinatra and Mr.
Dean Andrews!" There was loud roar of approval as the
hired orchestra played the opening notes of "My Way."
(The webcast became the most downloaded video on
GoogleTube minutes later.)

Further out on the floor of the convention, scores of
collectors wandered in and out of the many booths set up
by vendors. An ill-tempered old woman of about 75 was
making her way with some effort past the tables of
licensed tee shirts and video games. She shook her old
fashioned cane at a few youngsters who raced past and
almost knocked her down. "Slow down, you little imps!"
she hollered after them, shaking her cane. They simply
snickered and ran on.

She finally spotted what she was looking for. There
they were, Adams and Thompson, sitting at a booth
signing books for giggling youngsters. "Can you sign my
copy, Mr. Adams, please? It's a 35th Edition!"

"Oh, you've got one of those, do you? However did you
get one that old?"

"My Grandma Vicki gave it to me. See? It's got a
slipcover and everything."

"Oh, isn't that nice?" He turned to the old lady
hovering near the table. "Can we interest you in a new
copy of the Companion, madame? Or perhaps sign your old
one?"

"No, no thank you. I just wanted to come and finally
meet you face to face."

"Do I know you? Have we met?"

The old woman leaned down until she was close enough to
whisper two words. "Page 43."

He jumped up and turned to call for security, but by the
time he turned back around, she was already lost in the
passing crowd. All that remained was her evil cackle.