“And why would that matter?” Mikito says archly. “We’re here to view Moyo Jin’s work, not answer to impertinent questions.”
“Found her! And contacting…”
Crystal glowers at her words. “Below, it might not matter. But this portion of the event is exclusive. Reserved for those who have the right Levels. Or connections.”
I wonder then if perhaps we had been found out from the very beginning. Did I insult the man below, offer too little a bribe? Did I make a misstep then? Or was it now when Ali acted like a bore? Or myself when I said hi? Should I have just strutted in as if I owned this place?
Perhaps.
Spending years, nearly a decade, killing monsters, fighting Master Class and higher enemies has done little to aid my social acumen. I was never a socialite, but a simple programmer. And not even that successful a one. Parties like this, where I start out of my element just means I sink faster.
“Well, I’ve never been so insulted…” Mikito tilts her chin higher, staring down her nose at Crystal, who seems unperturbed by her actions.
But I also note Crystal and its people don’t seem worried either. They’re treating us like party crashers, not true threats.
“You may complain to my manager if you wish,” Crystal says as he steps forward, a glittering, clawed hand sweeping to point at the door behind us.
“Ali!”
“Katherine says go. And wait.”
When Mikito opens her mouth to protest further, I tug on her arm gently and step back. She turns and glares at me while I lower my voice. Low enough to be a whisper, even if I know anyone here would hear it if they bothered. Damn Perception increases.
“Let’s not cause a scene, dear. We couldn’t afford the pieces in here anyway,” I say.
“That’s not the point!” Mikito says.
“The point will be them tossing us out physically, if we don’t move.”
Mikito sniffs again and detaches herself from my arm. She stalks out the door, and I turn to the group, offering them an open-handed and sheepish shrug. I can’t read Crystal, but I catch a flicker of amusement among the Hakarta guards.
Outside, the pair of us move away from the doorway, down to a mostly empty landing where a twisted sculpture, when viewed, gives a bonus to Intelligence—specifically, mental arithmetic calculations. It also is made up of some annoyingly high-pitched auditory passages. It’s one of the least popular showings because of that.
“So, that went well,” I say, leaning in to speak with Mikito.
“It did not!” she replies, her voice still heated. “You always embarrass me like that.”
“Oh, I do, do I?” I say. “As if I wanted to come to these things.”
“Keep your voice down. They’re still watching us!” Mikito says.
“And why should I care?”
Mikito growls and turns away, breaking off eye contact with me and looking instead ostensibly at the big center piece. I sniff, staring at her back, and turn to view a smaller piece, watching as Ali floats down to me. He’s been ejected from the room too, though he took his time leaving.
“Nicely done. People are looking away for the most part,” Ali confirms.
“You think we’re good?”
“Mostly. Katherine’s on her way. So just play the stricken lovers for a little more.”
“We still need a place to meet, in private,” I point out.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll figure it out.”
I snort, then rub my ears. Hopefully the woman arrives soon. Because there’s only so long I want to listen to this buzzing.
Chapter 10
Rather than meet us directly, Katherine sends a waiter who directs us to the top of the gallery. We cross by the stone-faced guard of the VIP room, who refuses to look at us, and end up in a smaller room, one whose doors slide open and shut behind us, leaving behind the waiter who escorted us.
Lights flicker on, and I find myself regarding a miniature city that dominates the room. I frown, walking forward and cocking my head, struck by the incongruity of the piece.
“What the hell is this?” I mutter.
There are even tiny figures, barely half an inch tall, who I could almost swear are alive, so lifelike are their motions. If not for the lack of any differentiation in the Mana flows through them, I would never have guessed them to be tiny golems.
“The next showing,” Katherine’s voice cuts in.
I turn, spotting her emerging from another doorway, and take a moment to assess the woman. She’s looking good for her age, not seeming to have aged a day since I first met her nine years ago. Her hair might be a little paler and greyer, the eyes a little harder, but she’s still the middle-aged secretary who’d introduced herself to me when I took over Vancouver.
“A miniature city, one that depicts life as it could be, or should be. There are a few more such cities, each revolving around another race, another political system. If you watch them long enough, you can see them play out day-to-day lives, revolutions and wars and social unrest. And then peace again. Or never-ending war,” Katherine says.
“So, a real work of art, not a toy for Skills,” Mikito says, walking over to Katherine.
Mikito hesitates for a second when she gets close, but Katherine doesn’t, throwing her hands around Mikito and giving her a hug that the little Japanese woman returns.
Into her neck, Mikito mutters, “It’s good to see you.”
“And you. I’ve been watching your fights.”
“You have?”
“Of course. You’ve got quite a following on Earth too, you know,” Katherine says, making Mikito blush. She hangs her head, while Katherine lets her go and smiles. “You’ve done well.”
Mikito steps back, shifting back to her impenetrable mien. To everyone but me, it’d be easy to miss the flush of happiness she is doing her best to hide.
“And you’ve made trouble,” Katherine says, her voice growing colder as she faces me.
“I… didn’t mean to this time?” I say, offering as explanation.
Katherine snorts, taking the couple of steps needed to close in on me and give me a hug. “Whatever, you idiot.”
I hug her back, but I don’t take my eyes off the fourth person in the room. Not that the hug is as long or as personal as the one she gave Mikito. Unlike Lana and Mikito, I barely spent any time with Katherine before I was thrown into the Forbidden Zone.
It’s a good thing the hug’s over quickly, since our silent watcher is hanging back and looking grumpy. Hiding in the shadows, as if he could hide. Considering he’s neither human nor expected, the Grazish Heir is like a six-foot-tall man in a children’s ballet class.
Like the picture I saw, he’s dressed in a mixed-robe and ribbon outfit, with tails that float behind him, wings and ribbons twisting in a non-existent wind. The colors of his clothes and ribbons are myriad, shifting through the colors of the rainbow and yet coordinating with one another. Still, the warthog humanoid is distinctly inhuman as dark eyes stare at me, its pupils almost lost in the shadows of its overhanging eyebrows.
Reqm Harsem, Thirty-Eighth Heir of the Grazish Clan, Warden of the Eleventh Ward of Esuma, Lasard Mo-ki of the Rawce Clan, Corporate Raider, … (Grazish Heir Level 19) (M)
HP: 2380/2380
MP: 2210/2210
Conditions: Linked Health, Second Chance: Rise, Shielded, Aura of Wealth
“You okay?” I say as I detach from her.
“Better, now that you’re here. And you can relax, Reqm is on our side.” Katherine beckons and Reqm walks forward, offering us a weird snapping salute with his left hand in greeting.
“You sure?” I say.
“You can rest assured, I would not betray my Gasjen,” Reqm says.
“Gasjen?A gas generator?”
“Funny. No. Uhh…” Ali falls silent, accessing information while I watch as Katherine steps away from me and returns to Reqm’s side. Closer now, they twine fingers together. “Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s…”
“Girlfriend?” I supply.