Shattered by Glass (The Human-Hybrid Project Book 1)

by Farley Dunn

  “A few times. Once he helped with how to hold my hands.” She shrugged, pleased.

  “So, he knows your name?” Garik grinned.

  “Pssst!” She elbowed him in the ribs. “He’s got better things to do than know my name. You know, if you want an autograph, now’s the time. By next year, he’ll be too famous for us, by far.”

  “Not too famous for Halo Sunchaser.” Sunchaser, a Tower elite, the wielder of Marisa’s electrified sword. “Doesn’t she visit the Center? I hear she’s a martial arts nut like you.”

  “I’m not a nut, just interested. And I take lessons. I’ve seen her there.”

  “What I can’t figure out, why would she need to learn martial arts? She has that sword. Does she carry it at the Center?” Garik grinned. He imagined an old-time cowboy, his whip attached at his waist and a rifle on his saddle, ready to take down any bad guy that came along.

  “Dreamer.” Marisa shook her head and laughed. “She might be there. You never know. She trains with Kevin some days, but I heard who Kevin Lee has eyes for.”

  “You?” He grinned, teasing, and made a heart with his hands.

  “Callie Fornya.”

  “Wasn’t she in the Olympics?” Even Garik had heard of her.

  “Got injured and now works at the Center. Ai Kee!’s poster girl. Except she never gets on the floor. She does the financial books and poses for the advertising stills.”

  “She’s the girl on the billboards?” She looked ready to take an opponent down.

  “Talks the talk, but she can’t walk the walk. Once a member of the U.S.A. Olympic team, Callie Fornya says . . . well, she doesn’t get my respect.”

  “How sad—” Garik was picturing Kevin Lee, and well, Callie Fornya was beautiful, even if she couldn’t compete on the floor.

  “I respect Halo Sunchaser more. That sword could take down anyone, no effort required. It’s not carrying it—”

  “It’s knowing she can.” Garik finished her sentence.

  That was much better.

  ― 7 ―

  THEY HAD talked out Halo Sunchaser by the time they reached The Martial Arts Center and Ai Kee! The street was filled with cars and pedestrians and several black SUVs. This was clearly an event. Thank goodness for their tickets.

  They were asked for them at the door. The doorman looked at them carefully, studied Garik and Marisa’s faces, and without saying anything, tore the tickets in half and returned one end to them, allowing them entrance.

  “What was he about?” Garik turned and frowned.

  “I don’t care.” Marisa laughed. “Follow me. I know where they are having the interview. We can still get good seats.”

  Garik followed close on her heels.

  The audition was in the Center’s competition gym, a room with a vast ceiling and a bank of risers along one wall with narrow windows bordering the ceiling. Callie Fornya’s picture covered a large section of one wall. In it, Callie wore a black robe tied at the waist with a cloth belt. Her copper-colored hair was in a sensible bob, and her green eyes jumped out of the image. The Ai Kee! logo filled the background, and below her, it stated, “Olympic Quality Facilities. For the Olympian in You!”

  Marisa explained that normally multiple mats were set up. Numerous people trained at the same time, but today, only one was in the middle of the room. Props had been brought in, with a temporary backdrop that looked like a scene from an old-fashioned Chinatown film.

  “The lights,” Garik asked, pointing around the massive room. Large lights were on tall stands, some reaching nearly to the ceiling. They seemed overkill for the well-lighted space. “Don’t those get in the way?”

  “Yes, they would,” she explained, “but the lights aren’t normally in the gym. This is a special setup all for Kevin’s audition.”

  “Ah. Hollywood.” Garik pictured movies he’d seen. He guessed this was how they made them. Several bulky cameras on rollers had cables running to an electronics-filled table off to the side, yet more movie-specific additions to the gym.

  Sitting a row in front of them and down some, Marisa pointed to a woman with bristly short hair and dangling earrings. She wore a lime green flowered top and black lycra pants. “Vegan Flo.” She giggled. “She never eats meat because it’s not neat.”

  “Vegan Flo?” Garik thought Vegans dressed in shiny silver. “Where’s her outer space gear?”

  “Shush. Not so loud.” Marisa put her finger to her lips. “Not like the star Vega. It’s a diet thing. She tells everyone that she never touches anything that touches animals. She wears cotton or synthetics—” she giggled “—or nothing at all, I guess.”

  “Doesn’t oil come from animals? That’s how synthetics are made.”

  Marisa shrugged. “Talk to Vegan Flo about it. Oh, and there’s Jung Il-woo.”

  “The Chinese guy?” A tall man with long arms and short black hair walked in. A pretty face, he was cleanly shaven with a black tee, tan chinos, and sneakers.

  “Yes, but South Korean, I think.”

  He was followed by a shorter, heavier woman a few years older, in a business suit in a good cut, with a similar ethnic cast to her face. “Who’s the other one? Anyone you know?”

  “Drinking companion at Kerre’s Dive, the gossips say. Shin So Min. Always pays for his drinks.” She snickered and linked her fingers, then shrugged. “I don’t think so and don’t care, because I think she’s a foreign agent for the Chinese government. Maybe Il-woo is infiltrating Vegan Flo’s vegan lifestyle so they can monetize it for worldwide export. It’d make a bundle.”

  “I don’t think so. No one would want it. She could be Korean, too. Maybe she’s his mother.”

  A door off to the side opened, and a boy who looked about sixteen leaped through in full martial arts dress. He landed with his feet spread and his hands high, making a chopping motion, as he yelled out, “Ai Kee!”

  “Not Daniel.” Marisa sank into her seat and put her hand over her eyes.

  “I thought his name was Kevin.” Too many names for too many people, and Garik was getting lost, but he remembered Kevin Lee’s name.

  “That isn’t Kevin.” Marisa spread her fingers just wide enough to see Daniel Kim walk onto the set and pretend to karate chop one of the props. He hit it, and as it toppled, a woman wearing one of the studio’s look-alike outfits dropped her tablet onto a table and made a beeline for Daniel. Daniel held up his hands to the risers, as if waiting for the audience to acknowledge his amazing performance.

  “Not Kevin.” Garik watched as the woman took the boy’s arm and maneuvered him off the set and set him in a chair behind the studio equipment. She waggled a finger at him as if admonishing him to stay put. “Who is he?”

  “A boy. I don’t know why he’s at the Center.”

  “He shows up and just chills, then.” That was okay with Garik. If they let people chill at the Center, maybe he could, too, at least some. He was having fun.

  “No, he gets paid, but I’m not sure what for. Perhaps to clean up. Janitor, maybe.”

  “Oh.” Then it hit Garik. “I’ve seen Daniel at school, I think. He’s in Wajeha’s class.”

  “Yeah, Daniel Kim. At least he tries, I can respect that. And the changing rooms are always clean. Shush. I think we’re starting.”

  The banks of lights clicked on, and the gym brightened as they began to warm. Cameramen nestled into the seats on the camera rigs, and several martial arts performers Marisa didn’t know took their places in front of the backdrop.

  Kevin Lee appeared in loose pants and a bare torso, tight and fit. A blonde-headed director walked around the mock set, described what she wanted, and called, “Action!” She had them repeat several short takes, and after less time than Garik and Marisa had waited for the hoopla to start, the director called, “Cut,” and the studio team began breaking down their equipment.

  The owner of Ai Kee!, Mr. Mandering, got on the speaker system and announced in a crisp and clean-cut Des Moines accent, “Visitors, guest
s, and those of you who are patrons of our facility, as the owner of Ai Kee!, I would like you to join us at the Corona Tower food court to visit with our movie hopeful, Kevin Lee. Kevin will be available for photos and autographs, twenty dollars each. Come on down. We’ll start at two. No refreshments provided by us, but it’s the food court! You can purchase whatever you want. I’ve arranged for a twenty percent discount on any food purchases from Chow Down between two and three. Tell the cashier that you’re with Gerry.” Gerry laughed as he disengaged from the microphone and waved at the audience on the risers.

  As the people around Garik and Marisa began to stand and work their way off the risers, a pretty woman wearing a shirt emblazoned with Kickstarting Life and stylized versions of an adult holding the hands of two children walked up to Gerry. A boy about eight tagged behind her, holding to her purse strap. She reached to Gerry’s arm in a familial way, and they laughed about something.

  “His wife?” Garik nodded their direction.

  “A parent, I think, but the kid’s not from here. Kickstarting is an after-school program for troubled youth.” She shrugged and stood.

  “The boy doesn’t look troubled.”

  “You can’t always tell. Look at us.” She winked at him. “Do you want to go for ‘photos and autographs’ or do something else?”

  “Of course.” Garik stood and grinned. Meet Kevin Lee—maybe—and spend more time with Marisa. That was always a good way to spend the day.

  A SECTION of the food court was roped off with a long table draped with fabric sporting Kevin’s name. There were the expected kids, many who took classes at Ai Kee!, and others who had shown up because of the news announcements about the audition. Kevin was a minor local hero, especially to the younger crowd in the city. They crowded around, wide-eyed and adoring. Kevin charmed them. He walked around the table and knelt at their sides for photos; and he signed tee shirts, paper receipts, and even sold a number of Ai Kee! autographed photographs.

  The adults took over after the kids dispersed to a late lunch or early dinner, several well-heeled by their dress, and the free autographs ended. Gerry set up an Ai Kee! backdrop and began taking money, pushing Kevin to go faster, to keep the photo conversations brief, and not to autograph anything people didn’t pay for.

  Garik and Marisa combined their change and, with Gerry’s discount, were able to share an order of fries and two glasses of water. The rest was entertainment. After three, the ropes were removed, and the regular visitors that weren’t at the audition and had no clue what was going on without Kevin’s sign began to filter in, diluting the familiar faces. Garik was surprised when a hand reached between them and placed a huge order of nachos on the table.

  “I saw you two at the audition.” Kevin carried a glass to the other side of the table and sat. “I didn’t get to eat, and since you guys are familiar faces, I thought you might not mind sharing.” He pushed the nachos their direction.

  “Seriously?” Garik’s fries had only made him hungrier, and he grinned, taking one and biting into it.

  “You’re welcome. I’m Kevin.” He held his hand over the table.

  “Garik.” He wiped his hand and shook. “And this is—”

  “—Marisa, I know.”

  “See?” Garik cut his eyes to Marisa. “He does know your name.”

  “What?” Kevin asked, his eyes twinkling. “I’m a topic of discussion between you two?”

  “Yah,” Garik said. “All morning. You signed a lot of autographs, huh?”

  “More than Mandering expected. Did you see the richies? Money, money. I could use some of that, but I don’t know about the Hollywood thing. So boring. Did you see how many times they wanted me to do each scene? And each one was perfect. I want to do, not wait and redo so they can have ten identical takes to slice and dice.” He took two nachos at a time, one in each hand, and bit into one, dripping cheese that he caught in the other.

  Richies! That topic interested Garik. “Did you know any of the richies?”

  “Maybe.” Kevin licked one finger. “Did you see the blond guy with the hair?” He touched his hair and flipped his fingers up.

  “The blue?” When Kevin and Garik looked at her, Marisa shrugged. “I notice those things.”

  “Then you must have noticed his girl. Boris and Kirsten. He’s with Lindemann Airways and she’s an heir to the Kaudlitz hotel chain. One of many, I’m sure, but worth a lot. They have one of the apartments upstairs. Lindemann likes to tell people that there’s something going on in the sub-basement, but what does he know? Nothing, probably. They were instrumental in connecting me with the Hollywood bunch.”

  “It’s cool that you know them.” Garik remembered the group that had scored the fifty tickets for Jantzen Hefferly. Had Boris Lindemann been there? With the blue tips in his hair, surely he would have stood out.

  “I don’t, dude. I know of them. They like my local fame. That’s rich people. They have money, but if they’re smart, no one knows who they are. I suppose they like that, but they feel bigger if they are connected to people with a little star recognition. We all do, I guess. Gives us a sense of value. Me?” He chuckled. “The person I want to connect with doesn’t know I’m alive.”

  “Callie?” Garik had the name out before he realized what he’d said. Marisa kicked his shin, and he leaned down to rub it.

  “So, everyone knows.” Kevin laughed sourly. “Except Callie. Maybe if I do the movie thing, then she’ll notice me.”

  They turned at a sound from the street running alongside the mall. Several car doors slammed one after another. Two black SUVs drove off, and a half-dozen military types in dress blues and dark sunglasses strode into the shade under the Corona Tower, walking right by their table. One solid-looking man brushed Garik’s elbow, and he paused, turned, and said, “My apologies, sir.”

  “No problem.” Garik looked up with a smile.

  The military type removed his glasses. “I thought I recognized that voice. Garik, right? I didn’t see your Strider outside.” The man reached to the other two and shook hands. “Wu Han, U.S. Air Force. If you’re with Garik, I’m glad to meet you. I would stay for introductions, but I must go. I’m expected at a meeting.”

  With a nod, he returned his sunglasses to his nose and headed toward the elevators.

  Kevin reached to Garik, rubbed the back of his fingers down his shirt front, and grinned. “Now who’s the important one?”

  “Garik?” Marisa pushed him on the shoulder. “How did that happen?”

  Garik felt his face warm. He wasn’t used to being the center of anyone’s attention, not in a good way, anyway. He pointed to the bank of elevators by the food court kiosk. As the doors opened for the military types, the down arrow was clearly lighted.

  “What’s in the basement, do you think?”

  “Ask Lindemann. He knows.” Kevin laughed, took another nacho, and invited his two newest friends to do the same.

  ― 8 ―

  HALFWAY THROUGH a second bowl of nachos, Kevin Lee leaped to his feet, paused long enough to say, “Wait here. This is so exciting!” and vanished into a wall of Japanese-speaking tourists complete with broad-brimmed hats, colorful shirts, sunglasses, and phones snapping photos of the mall and the food court.

  “That was sudden,” Marisa said. “Perhaps he has to go. I wouldn’t think of that as exciting.” She grinned.

  “No, but look who’s here.” Garik pointed to an ebony face with a towering headwrap in vivid jungle colors clearly visible among the colorful tourists. Halo Sunchaser, a recognized researcher and martial arts aficionado, respected around the city, and occasionally seen transiting the food court, was eminently recognizable, even to someone like Garik, who never did anything martial arts at all. She was draped in a kaftan in shimmering orange and green.

  “She’s here?” Marisa sat up, now interested. “I’ve never seen her outside of Ai Kee! Does she have her sword?”

  Garik gave Marisa a puzzled look. Sunchaser would actually wear it
around the city? When he saw her wink, he laughed. Teasing. She was goading him just for fun.

  “Maybe,” he teased back. He stood partway. “I can’t see her that well. Oh, Kevin’s with her. I forget that you said they know one another. She’s one of his students.”

  Sunchaser seemed giant next to the tourists. Her headwrap accentuated her height, making Kevin short by comparison. Garik watched Kevin point, and Sunchaser turned their way and smiled. She nodded and moved their direction, parting the sea of Japanese tourists like an African goddess.

  She almost was, Garik acknowledged. An electrified sword? The weapon of a goddess, if there ever was one. He wondered how that worked. Could anyone use it, or was it based on fingerprint or DNA recognition? Too bad Marisa hadn’t been able to find the final layer of schematics for the sword.

  As she drew closer, Garik was impressed by her hawk-like nose and sharp, piercing eyes. She smiled as she spoke with Kevin, but there was something predatory in her expression. Just for a moment, he shivered, then she was at their table holding out a hand with long fingers and talon-like nails in bright red.

  “I had forgotten about Kevin’s audition, or I would have been at the Center earlier. I’m so glad he caught me. You must be his friends. Garik, I would recognize you in an instant. Such beautiful bronze skin. You lucky boy, you, even if no one tells you.” She shook his hand, dragging her nails across his skin for a moment as she released her hold on him. She turned to Marisa. “I’ve seen you at the Center. We’ve not met, but you can only be Marisa. Such a pretty face. You must be the rage among all the boys. Probably hated by all the girls.”

  Sunchaser laughed, and for a moment, Garik didn’t know how to take her veiled compliments. Her next words took his worries away.

  “I have a competition in South Africa next month, and Kevin has been honing my meager skills. Then, we can’t all be national champions like Mr. Lee, here.” She took Kevin’s hand and patted the top of it before releasing it. “I hope for the best for your movie career, but I hate that I might be losing my best teacher. And your friends, thank you for introducing me. I love young people. New blood, fresh. You are all wonderful.”