Hoven Quest

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Hoven Quest Page 13

by Michelle Levigne


  “We're getting to the point where I actually have new, interesting people to socialize with. I made a lot of contacts on this trip. If they come through, we'll add at least thirty percent to our present force. Then I'll take time off for ... youthful pursuits."

  That earned me a sigh from Uncle.

  The door chimed and slid open—and it just didn't do that unless Uncle had that person programmed into the security system for automatic entrance. I turned, interested in seeing who could have that high a level of trust. I really expected Chiara.

  Instead, Kel Brent walked in, wearing Meruk's new costume design. We were talking about sending Meruk to Surobon, which has a much dryer, warmer climate than either Gadara or Romblu or the Archipelago. The open tunic and light pants showed his muscles to an advantage, and revealed the Hovenu torque and wristband he had ‘discovered’ during the launch episode. And he smiled at me.

  “Sorry. Didn't know you were busy. Marvis sent me in for the final costume check."

  “No, no, Kel. The costume is perfect. What do you think, Kendle?"

  “Just like I described it."

  It was a miracle I kept my voice steady. Whoever said my hormones wouldn't awaken for another three years lied. My heart thumped so loudly, I could hardly hear anything else. I was mortified at my silly, star-struck feelings.

  “Kel, you remember Kendle?” Uncle smiled as if he had arranged this meeting.

  “My favorite writer!” Kel bowed grandly. He slid into the second chair in front of the desk, when Uncle gestured for him to sit down and join us. “Max is always showing me your picture, like I'd forget who you were."

  “My picture...” I didn't dare look at Uncle, probably wearing one of his nasty, teasing grins. I might have thrown something at him. What was he doing showing my picture to anyone, especially Kel Brent? “Isn't this where I beg for a picture of you? Maybe the two of us together, so I can prove to my friends we met?"

  “Soldrums! I hope not.” He laughed, including me in the joke, and suddenly all my weird reactions left. “You don't seem like those drooling screamers who keep breaking in here for autographs. Seriously, though, I've been meaning to call you about the new season before you get to work on it. No complaints,” he said, grinning and holding up his hands as if to protect himself—from me? “I just have a few ideas I'd like you to consider."

  “I have a fantastic idea,” Uncle broke in before I could open my mouth. “Kendle needs some time off, and so do you. The two of you go to Megavissy Carnival, talk, relax, and get to know each other. You'll be working together a long time after I'm gone, the way things look."

  “Only if Kendle keeps writing the scripts,” Kel said. That got a good, long guffaw from Uncle.

  “You two have a mutual admiration society going. Far be it from me to interfere."

  “Interfere in what?” I demanded. That got grins from them both.

  “Go celebrate finally being on the same continent, if you think you need some kind of excuse. I'd love to join you, but I'm meeting some new friends from Cerbius,” he added, with a significant look to me.

  “Fine.” Kel turned to me, and he actually looked eager, not like he was being forced into socializing when he would rather be somewhere else. “Let me change, okay?"

  “You don't want to be recognized by your fans?” I pretended surprise.

  “I was thinking about your safety,” he quipped and left.

  I tried not to laugh, but couldn't help it. I liked Kel. He felt familiar, comfortable, not at all like some of the big-shot actors I've met in the course of Network parties, publicity tours and other events. And what was nicer, he didn't feel like Meruk, either. I could spend the evening with Kel and not have to worry about confusing him with my creation.

  Uncle had that pensive look on his face that meant something amusing and yet sad had just occurred to him. I asked him what was wrong.

  “That young man is ... perfect. Even I could believe he really was Meruk, and you and I discovered him."

  “Hoveni no longer exist. Company policy, remember?” I hated it when Uncle was in that kind of mood. “If he really was Meruk, we'd have the Set'ri attacking us. Nobody needs that."

  “No, you're right. If only we didn't have to keep him in the dark about the real purpose for our work."

  “He wouldn't believe us. It might drive him off if he thought we weren't flying on all thrusters. Sometimes I think we're crazy, and I know what we're trying to do."

  “You never know.” Uncle looked up at me, and laughed. It was the same sort of depressed/teasing discussion we'd been having, off and on, ever since he discovered my secret vice of writing my Meruk stories.

  * * * *

  On the night Kel and I went there, Megavissy Carnival was celebrating the addition of two new rides, bringing the grand total to one hundred twenty-seven. To my relief, Kel was more interested in seeing what new worlds and cultures the bazaars now reflected, rather than testing our stomachs and equilibrium on the rides. What interested me more was the Park. Megavissy Carnival ‘s crowning glory was the Park. It covered the roof of the Carnival, full of trees, fountains, lawns and mazes. There was no place quite like it on the entire planet of Gemar, and I went back whenever I could.

  Kel drove us there in his two-passenger flit. It was a nice, sedate blue with a tinted dome and no crass detailing inside or out to draw attention, like some actors I've met. Kel was the same way in his street clothes: quiet, clean, neat and pleasant.

  During the drive, I learned Kel knew almost as much as I did about Hoveni, and that was saying a lot. Even back in the hungry days when he was a street entertainer, Hovenu culture and history had been his hobby. He still felt awed at his good fortune to be able to play Meruk, like a childhood fantasy had come true. The questions and ideas he had for the upcoming season concerned teaching rituals and Meruk finding a family of Hoveni who don't know how to control their transformations. Stress and danger and illness could shift their shapes at the most inopportune time. This was a danger we had witnessed through the decades, and the writing team reasoned that even with the series so popular on Gemar, there had to be some Hoveni who still didn't know how to control their transformation ability. In two key episodes, Meruk would teach this suffering family the mental and physical discipline, quite literally to save their lives.

  Our discussion of the plans for the upcoming season took us all the way through dinner. I wished that some of our story planning sessions with the team could have been so enjoyable and easy. When I told Kel, he laughed.

  We had total privacy, and I could tell Kel enjoyed that even more than the way our minds seemed to work along similar lines. The head waiter was a friend of Uncle's, an ally, his family part of the inner circle for three generations now. He automatically put us in my favorite corner table, where no one could see or hear us. Kel appreciated that move even more than I did, and said so.

  “I'm still not used to the screaming fans showing up at the wrong moment.” He chuckled, but something in his eyes told me he felt worried, and ashamed of that worry. He looked down at the dessert the waiter had just brought, and picked at the crust with one tine of his fork.

  “But what? You have a friendly ear here, and connections with the boss.” My words, meant teasingly, didn't make him smile. “If Uncle hadn't cured me of screaming and drooling, I'd be on my knees begging for an autograph right now, myself,” I added.

  “Oh, please!” Kel groaned, but then he laughed. “Truth be told, I was shaky about meeting you, too. I'm your biggest fan."

  “Oh, Soldrums!” We both laughed, and suddenly we were friends; forget about being actor and writer. “I want to help if I can, Kel. Tell me."

  “All right.” He toyed with the stem of his wine glass. “I'm being followed. Watched. It's different from the usual crazies. I feel a threat. Like ... I don't know what it's like."

  “Like,” and a chill ran up my back as I guessed the words he hadn't said, as if he spoke them into my mind. “Like the Set'ri
are still alive, and think you are truly Meruk, a Hoven.” I wanted to curse, but I didn't know words strong enough to express what I felt. All this time, we thought we had managed to cover up or tone down the attacks and searches and other threats, so the public would think it was only lunatic fans causing troubles. Kel was obviously much more insightful than we had guessed.

  “What?” He feigned shock, but there was a light at the back of his eyes, almost relief that somebody else had put his nagging worry into words.

  “There is no absolute proof the Set'ri have vanished, any more than there is absolute proof there are no more Hoveni. What if some of them remain, crazy after waiting and hiding so long, and think you're not just acting?"

  I had no idea what to do at this point. It wasn't like actually telling Kel there were Hoveni all around him, and the Set'ri threat was real, would help him at all. It would only confirm his suspicions, and if anything, make him that much more worried. I didn't know if telling him about the presence of Garan Cole and the other Scouts would be a comfort or add to his worry.

  And, honestly, I didn't want to see that hurt look in his eyes—we told the truth to the Scouts, but not to our star, our front man, the face and voice of the re-emerging Hoveni.

  We weren't hungry after that. Kel apologized for even mentioning it, but I hushed him. Better to know now than later, I reasoned. If Kel had seen enough to suspect, other people would, too. We had to do something to divert suspicion and maybe even convince the Set'ri that Kel honestly didn't know anything about the living Hoveni culture of the present.

  Maybe we could head off more trouble by doing a program on work behind-the-scenes, showing Kel as a normal Human? A discussion of where the story ideas come from? Nothing seemed very good, and I knew I grasped at every weak idea that came. Finally, we left the restaurant, and Kel suggested going to the Park to walk, instead of trying to wring some fun from the chaos of the carnival. Funny, how even then our minds worked so much alike. I began to wish he was Meruk, so that if danger came, he could change shape and escape.

  We walked to a lift tube to get to the Park level. Halfway there, we met a gang of students coming out of a game room, and they recognized Kel. Several girls squealed his name, and the whole herd thundered in our direction. There was no good in running, and they soon had us surrounded and deafened by pleas for autographs. Kel made the best of it and gave them what they wanted, only balking when a girl wanted him to sign the front of her shirt. He was a gentleman in all dimensions, Kel Brent.

  I felt somewhat sorry for him when that happened, but I laughed anyway. Kel looked at me and glared, then a mischievous twinkle entered his eyes. I found out what he was up to when someone asked him about the stories for the upcoming season. He pointed at me and told them I was the show's chief writer. I received some looks of respect and two requests for autographs, but obviously not the attention Kel intended.

  “Oh, and we just got engaged, too,” he added, with great sincerity. Meruk's sincerity, and I had taught it to him.

  I could have strangled him! Especially when the younger girls’ faces fell, and some left without their autographs. I held onto my smile until we were alone again and headed to the lift, but I seethed inside.

  “That was a dirty trick."

  “If looks could kill...” He whistled. “Sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."

  “Not me.” I lied. “Those girls. Did you ever consider the dreams you just shattered?” His expression showed he hadn't, and he felt sorry. I lost a little of my anger, but only a little. “They don't mind if they can't get near you, can't date you, or even talk to you. Just as long as they think nobody else can, either."

  “Does that mean the engagement is off?” His smile was like a little boy trying to get back in good graces after a spanking.

  “You are a lunatic.” But I couldn't stay angry at him.

  “Thank you, most gracious lady.” We had reached the lift tube by then, without another stampede or other delays. He bowed me into the car. “I honestly didn't think it would hurt anyone."

  “Well ... it was a shock for me, too."

  Through the transparent doors, I saw two men race to catch the car, but we had already started up. They looked angry and shouted something, but I couldn't hear their words as they ran for the next tube in line, which was a twenty-minute walk away. Then Kel started telling me about an amusing incident while recording a scene in the last episode. I knew the people involved, and soon forgot about the two men as Kel and I laughed together.

  When we stepped out of the lift tube, the soothing green of the Park at dusk was just what we both needed. The air felt cooler at this altitude, but not enough to make me wish for my cape, left in the flit. Neither of us felt any need to talk except to suggest where to go. We headed for the central maze. I had deciphered it long ago, but still found it fun to try to get lost. Kel felt like a long-time, comfortable friend. Funny, how familiar he seemed, as if we had known each other all our lives. I already knew that we thought alike when it came to the series, and all the ideas we had bounced back and forth for scripts, but this was different. A nice kind of different. I had the strangest, yet oddly comfortable sensation, that the more time we spent together, the more we would find we held in common. It was good to be with him, so casual and comfortable, even in the silence. His company was so different from the public facility coordinators and arts liaison directors I met in very city I visited, to set up things for the program.

  Too bad the good feelings didn't last.

  Just as we were about to enter the maze, the air shattered and burned. Kel's reactions were even faster than mine as he flung both of us to the ground behind the first wall. Cautiously, we looked out and saw the heap of half-shattered, half-melted slag that used to be a light pole. The two men who had tried to get in the lift with us stood in plain sight, nasty-looking weapons in their hands. Likely those were outlawed weapons, but that obviously didn't bother the men who used them.

  “How good are you at mazes?” Kel whispered. He didn't have to say that the maze was the only thing close at hand where we could hide.

  “I know this one by heart. There's an emergency exit and ladder about halfway through."

  “Lead on.” He got up, still crouching out of sight, and gave me his hand to help me up.

  We never let go of each other, the whole time we scurried through the maze. Several times, I thought I had lost my way, or the maze had been changed, but after a moment of thought, I recognized where we were. Panic is a wonderful things for scrambling memories. We moved silently, slowly, listening for our pursuers. They didn't make any effort to be quiet, obviously sure they could catch up with us at any moment. They probably had someone waiting at the three exits. I prayed they didn't know about the emergency exit. We listened to them call to each other, sometimes with just a wall of shrubbery or masonry separating us. It seemed any moment they would burst in on us.

  When we climbed down the emergency ladder, we went down two levels, just to be safe, before we took the lift tube to the parking area. No pursuit so far. We started to relax and congratulate ourselves on our escape, and I tried to remember where the closest call station was, so I could send for help. What use was it, having Scouts dogging our footsteps, if we couldn't get some bodyguard work out of them? Then we turned a corner and saw the crowd grouped around a flit.

  Or rather, what remained of the flit after the bomb had gone off. It was still smoking and sat in Kel's parking spot. Again, his reactions were faster than mine. He pulled me away before anyone saw us. In moments, we were out in the street and Kel had hailed an auto-cab. My brain finally started to work. After all, Uncle had been preparing me for just such emergencies since I could understand just how special our situation was at home.

  “Your place will be watched now. Mine too, maybe.” I slapped his hand away when he would have put his debit card into the pay slot, put mine in instead and programmed the coordinates into the computer-driver. “This,” I said, pushing on a bottom
panel to open it, and then flipping a few more buttons, “will make sure no one can trace us."

  “Where are we going?"

  “You'll know when we get there."

  As we rode along, I tried to think of a way to explain to him. The Warren, a maze of tunnels and rooms, filled with supplies and weapons we had cached in the Nubom Mountains for years now, existed just for a situation like this. I shivered, feeling a little sick, as I remembered that the last time I had done inventory duty at the Warren was right after Uncle discovered my Meruk stories and hatched the plan that became Hoven Quest. Justice? Irony? I couldn't decide.

  The funny thing was, I had never expected to need to use the place. The Warren was never to be revealed to people not directly involved in our effort, yet Kel was in danger because of us. We owed him his life, if not a full explanation. And to be perfectly mercenary, if anything happened to him, Hoven Quest might fold and never broadcast again. I could lose my job.

  “Why do you seem unusually prepared for this?” Kel smiled, as if it was a joke, but the smile never reached his eyes. They seemed too bright with worry and understandable fear. And for some strange reason, I could have sworn I saw guilt in his eyes, too. Why guilt?

  “I'm not sure how to explain, just yet.” I began to shake, as everything that had happened finally caught up with me. “My new cape! Now I have to wait to get back to Gadara to get another one."

  Obviously, my brain had short-circuited from shock. Kel thought it immensely funny. He must have had a short circuit, too. His laughter helped both of us, though.

  The auto-cab flew us to the mainland, then to the Nubom Mountains, which act as a giant windbreak to protect the city. About half an hour into them, we landed and sent the cab away. After I re-programmed the memory code, so no one could backtrack it to us. I might have been shaken, but training held.

  I led Kel to the entrance, holding hands just as we had going through the maze. This was turning into a habit that our lives seemed to depend on. We plunged into darkness after rounding the first corner. I was glad of the warmth and strength in Kel's grip, too tense to feel that silly, star-struck giddiness that would have been a welcome change from fear. I dragged my free hand along the wall, tracing the guiding ridges, hoping that I remembered the map code correctly. At the first room past the guard stations, we stopped. I found the glow tabs in the niche by the doorway and lit them. Both of us were pale, shivering in the damp of the underground. My first action was to activate the sensors that would lower metal baffles after we passed through key archways in the tunnels. These baffles were camouflaged to look like natural stone, to hide our passage through the tunnels. Hopefully, we didn't need that precaution, but Uncle had trained me well. I had no intention of using the communications system until we made it to the command center, where I could activate the security system, the sensors and cameras, and make sure we were safe before I called for help.

 

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