Chapter 27
Chaos Reigns
The Watican spy crafts had made progress and already ships were returning to the Watican Mothership with intelligence. Wantoro massaged his temples. He let his hand caress Raaychila's which lay folded neatly across her chest. Her coma hadn't broken. Raaychila's face was a peculiar mix of hope and fear. The creases around her eyes tensed and gave her a strained expression, but every now and then, the dimples in her cheeks would twitch and light up her face. From the small room where she was kept, one might forget the chaos just beyond the closed door. But every time a doctor or nurse swept through the room, a cacophony of voices would enter, eventually disappearing once the door shut into place.
Wantoro wiped his brow. He had acted in haste to pursue the IIU and now any semblance of order was lost. What else could he have done? If he had waited and calculated, it would already be too late. He couldn't stand to lose both Raaychila and Jeremy.
The door opened and a woman stood before him. “Vor Wantoro, a Watican spy craft has returned and requests your presence.”
“Yes, all right.” Wantoro gazed long and hard at Raaychila and squeezed her hand. “I'll find him, don't worry.”
Just beyond Raaychila's chambers, spaceship personnel were running every which way. Now and then the spacecraft would rumble as a missile ripped at its exterior shields, steadily taxing the ship's power. Sirens roared.
“This way,” said the lady, leading Wantoro down a long hallway. “Just around here.” Wantoro turned the corner.
Gillian and Mateo rushed forward. Gillian's makeup was smeared and Mateo's hair looked as though large chunks had been pulled straight out. “Wantoro!” cried Gillian, grabbing his hands. “I've heard they have news about Jeremy! They might know about Maren, too. We're coming with you!”
Together, the party rushed to the lower flight deck. They dipped below a low hanging column and approached a small, parked spy craft. A stunned Wantoro entered, followed by Gillian with Mateo at the rear.
Three men dressed in Watican military uniforms greeted the Vor and led him to the command center in the front compartment. The grid showed pictures taken of the IIU ships, complete with location markers and velocity trackers. The captain of the spacecraft rolled his cursor over the enhanced video feature and began explaining how the rear craft moved to the left and seemed to be falling into a defensive formation. Wantoro narrowed his eyes and was about to speak when a loud thud cracked the back of his skull. The IIU infiltration mission was a success.
The IIU captain quickly handcuffed Wantoro, Gillian, and Mateo to the spy craft's cooling unit. Speaking to his accomplices, “Let's take them back to the IIU Mothership. Ms. Fritz will be pleased. Hurry! Secure the hatch!”
PART 2
Chapter 28
Jacey Moon
Maren, now seventeen, tossed her head back and laughed. “I'm not taking a taxi home! I live three blocks away from school.” A light drizzle filtered down through the clouds above downtown Manhattan. Maren brushed her blonde tresses from her face, put up her umbrella and started walking.
“Seriously Maren,” yelled her friend, “your parents are millionaires, why not just take a taxi?” Maren's friend, a short brunette in a too-tight school uniform, waved her arms. “I'll get us a cab! Come on.”
“No thanks.” Maren laughed.
“But I want to talk about the after party, Maren you have to go to the after party, I'm begging you!”
“We'll see. Honestly, I'm more excited that Craig was nominated for an award.” Maren turned her back to her friend and continued walking.
After waking up in the back of an ambulance in New York City three years ago, Maren's life had changed tremendously. Not only was she diagnosed with post-traumatic amnesia, but Maren had been adopted by celebrity Earth parents Janet and Craig Dern. Tonight marked amomentous occasion for her Earth family and she wanted her adoptive father to win the Velkin Award for Best Supporting Actor in a TV Drama.
When Maren arrived home, she tossed her books in a heap onto the sofa. Maren's adoptive Earth mother, Janet, ran downstairs to greet her daughter, wearing only a towel. Her wide-set, brown eyes scanned Maren up and down.
“I had Blair pull out some things for you to wear tonight. They're on the bed. Make sure to bring your purse and pack some makeup! I know how you like to go au natural, but you never know when the cameras will be on you. And your father's already spoken to Cindy about this season and they want you to have a small role. He can tell you more about it, but you have to be prepared!” Janet grabbed Maren by the shoulders. “Go! Start getting ready! We have five hours!”
Maren held her breath until Janet reached the top of the stairs, and then shook her head. She'd get some reading done first and then dress. Five hours was far too much time to sit around feeling stiff in some undoubtedly uncomfortable dress.
Maren stretched out comfortably on the sofa, reading Wuthering Heights and sipping hot chocolate. She was about to set her cocoa on its coaster when a large black spider scuttled across the coffee table. Maren screamed and the family maid, Blair, rushed downstairs to see what was the matter.
“Spider!” shrieked Maren, accidentally spilling hot chocolate on the sofa and cream-colored carpet. “Kill it! Kill it!”
Blair laughed and collected the spider in a folded-up newspaper. “Good for the bugs,” she said, turning towards the apartment patio. She opened the sliding glass door and set the spider down in a potted plant.
“Ms. Maren, you really should start getting ready. I'll clean this.” Blair made to spray the carpet with her carpet cleaner.
Maren shook her head. “No, no. I'll get this. My mess. If it were up to me, there'd be a spider carcass mashed into the carpet, too.” She smiled and took the cleaning supplies from Blair.
At seven p.m. sharp, the limo pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the Donegall Estate. Maren looked out the window and admired the gardens and the cobblestone walking path that wound throughout the property. When at last the limo had parked, a man in a black tuxedo accompanied the family to an amphitheater overlooking a hot spring in the courtyard. The emerald water bubbled and seethed, spitting up steam on the white rocks decorating its boundaries. Behind the hot spring was the main performance space, with velvet green curtains acting as a backdrop. White, yellow, and blue spotlights swirled around the stage as the announcer introduced Ms. Betty Donegall, President of the National Academy of Television.
Ms. Donegall entered amidst applause. She smiled warmly and waved her hand. “Hello and welcome to this year's Velkin Awards Ceremony, celebrating outstanding achievement in television. Please refill your glasses. The wine you're drinking is courtesy of Fallstap Wine Company. Also, don't hesitate to call on our waiters and you'll be served shortly. Tonight we'll be presenting awards in 30 categories; you'll find the list of awards and nominees in your program. But first, to kick off the ceremony, I would like to introduce a very special friend of mine, a young man with exceptional talents, Resident Artist at the Donegall Estate, Jacey Moon.” Ms. Donegall smiled and glanced behind her. “Ahem, Jacey Moon!” she repeated, louder.
Maren exchanged anxious glances with her adoptive parents and flipped through her program. The category for Best Supporting Actor in a TV Series was the third award of the evening. The lights dimmed and Maren was forced to place the program on her lap and yield herself entirely to the opening performance.
A single spotlight followed a young man as he entered through the backstage doors wearing a white tux with blue trim. Soft music rose from the orchestra pit, a crescendo growing with each step he took down the staircase. He looked to be about Maren's age, maybe a little older. Arriving at the bottom of the staircase, he swung around the banister. His timing was impeccable, his every movement in sync with the band. A camera swept past him, casting his image on the large television monitors throughout the amphitheater. His eyes were an electric blue. The young man winked as his tenor voice debuted, instantly wooing the crowd. He s
tarted out quietly, a smooth sweeping sound, but soon his voice was rising up the scale with increasing intensity. The audience was immediately taken, his vibrato and range seeming to kindle something deep within. A mystery, or was it some universal truth, something familiar. Maren's jaw dropped. Jeremy Chikalto?
Suddenly the orchestra kicked up the tempo and Jacey Moon was singing a new tune, faster and more spritely. He took off his tux jacket, revealing a silver-plated vest, and swung around a pole. Launching forward, he slid on his knees across the stage, only to backflip into an upright position. The crowd cheered as he twirled and spun in time with the orchestra, all while singing, never missing a beat. His movements were seamless and his showmanship was unparalleled. Maren's heart fluttered. Was it really him? Who else could it be?
When the young man finished, he was met with a standing ovation. He didn't remain long on stage, instead bowing swiftly and running out the side doors. The ceremony continued, but Maren's mind remained frozen in time. Last she saw him he was much shorter, surely three years wouldn't mature him quite so much. And yet, it looked just like him: the same electric blue eyes, boyish nose, and crooked smile. Even his singing and dancing had his signature, different in a more mature sort of way, but it had to be Jeremy! Was it so crazy? Maren's hands trembled as she tried to recall her last moments with him. Three years had past since Ms. Fritz promised to take them to a restaurant on Findle. The IIU were there. A gun was held against her head. Jeremy and Lyrna had attempted to fight off the IIU, and then... blackness. Maren awoke in the back of an ambulance on Earth. That's all she could recall. Doctors told her she suffered from amnesia, likely after a traumatic event. The bruises on her shoulders certainly suggested a struggle. Maren eventually dropped her story, succumbing to the pressure of a sound medical explanation, but she never forgot where she came from and who she was. And here he was, the Cajjez, in New York City.
Maren felt someone grip her arm. She looked up at the camera just above the stage and saw herself jump. Everyone was clapping. Maren clapped too. Looking to her left, she saw that her adoptive father was gone and was walking onto the stage. Maren, suddenly in the present, beamed.
“Thank you!” said Craig Dern, accepting the award for Best Actor in a TV Drama. “I can't begin to tell you how much this means to me. A special thanks to my loving wife, Janet, and to our lovely daughter, Maren, both of whom have given me tremendous support these past few years. And thanks to Martha Prestley for your direction and guidance – it's been such a pleasure working with you. And Becket, Becket you're a genius. Thanks to all my co-stars and to the studio, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here. This is such a surprise, I really don't know what to say. Thanks to all my fans, this wouldn't be possible without you. Thank you all!” Bruce lifted his award above his hand and shook it proudly. The music faded as he waltzed back to his seat.
Maren rushed forward to hug him. “Craig!”
Craig laughed as he took his seat.
“Congratulations!”
“Ssshh, okay! Let's, sshh!” Craig leaned back in his seat and wiped his brow. He laughed. Janet gave him one last pat on the back as the next introducers took their spots on the stage.
Maren's mind jumbled again. Between the excitement of her adoptive father winning the award and the excitement of Jeremy Chikalto being in New York, she hardly knew what to think. Her body trembled again as she scanned the audience.
The rest of the Awards Ceremony went by in a whirl. Soon, it was eleven p.m. and guests were filing out in droves.
“Craig, are we going to the after party?” Maren tugged her adoptive father's coat, and then her mother's. “Are we going? Can we go, please?”
“Oh Maren, I don't know. It's getting late.” Craig looked down from his towering height and frowned.
“Please? We have to go!”
Craig's mouth twitched into a smile and he laughed. “Of course! You think I wouldn't go to the after party? I have to introduce myself to Ms. Donegall and give my thanks.”
“Your father's on the job, Maren. He's got to network,” said Janet.
“Tough job, right?” Craig laughed again and led the way down through the aisles and past the hot spring. He pointed to it as he passed and said, “Beautiful, isn't it? They say it just appeared on the property three years ago. Absolutely stunning.” Maren and Janet agreed.
One of Ms. Donegall's bouncers opened the stage doors in the back and led the small party through to backstage. Dressing rooms lined the hallway and people were rushing back and forth. Ms. Donegall herself joined Craig, Janet and Maren and led them to the ballroom at her estate. She seemed just as pleased to meet Craig Dern as he was to meet her.
The party was already in motion, with people dancing and chatting over hors d'oevres and drinks. Maren slipped nervously into a bar seat and requested a non-alcoholic Shirley Temple. The bartender laughed and slid the drink her way. Time was of the essence. She had to find Jeremy.
“Janet,” said Maren sheepishly. “Do you mind if I wander off a bit? I thought I saw someone I recognized earlier.”
“Really?” said Janet, disbelief in her eyes. “Well, certainly you're free to hang with people your own age, don't worry about us. There's a lot of young people over there on the dance floor.”
Maren smiled and made off with her Shirley Temple, scanning the crowd for the mysterious Jacey Moon.
She asked after him slowly at first, making her way from one likely go-between to the next. But the more she thought about it, she didn't know if he had a type of friend, per se. She had never met any of his friends before. As she recalled quite sadly, she might have been his only friend, and even that was a stretch. An hour ticked by and Maren was growing nervous. She'd have to approach the one person she knew to have contact with him: Ms. Donegall.
Maren's heart pounded as she got closer to the crowd surrounding the much sought after Ms. Donegall. It was a thick crowd bursting with aggressive social climbers. Everyone wanted a piece of Ms. Donegall. Maren quickly realized that waiting patiently on the outskirts was not going to work.
“Excuse me, Ms. Donegall!” Nothing.
The famed Penelope Jada held Ms. Donegall's attention. Penelope had won an oscar the previous year and was currently making tabloid headlines as a result of her on-again off-again fling with singer-songwriter Marcus Hedger. The actress tossed her long, black hair, blocking Maren from Ms. Donegall's view.
Maren wriggled around to the left. Director George Martin elbowed her in the face. Maren bottled up her fists. “Ms. Donegall! Excuse me, Ms. Donegall!” Tears trickled down her cheeks as she bounced up and down. Now waving her arms, Maren shouted, “Ms. Donegall! Jacey Moon is in trouble! Jacey Moon!”
“What?” Ms. Donegall held up her hand and silenced those around her. She locked eyes with Maren. “What did you just say?”
Everyone turned to look at Maren. “Um,” she hesitated. “Well, can I talk to you in private?”
Penelope Jada laughed and threw a nasty look at Maren.
“Yes,” said Ms. Donegall to the shock of everyone surrounding her. Ms. Donegall separated herself from her admirers and pulled Maren aside. “What's wrong with Jacey?” she said in a husky voice.
Maren felt a lump forming in the back of her throat. “Well, see, I know him. He's Jeremy Chikalto –”
Ms. Donegall's eyes widened. “Ssh! Please keep it down, young lady! Now what's wrong with Jacey?”
“He, I need to speak with him. He knows me–”
“No, no, no,” said Ms. Donegall, shaking her head. “No one goes near him unless I give permission.”
“But can't he just see me? As soon as he sees me, he'll know why I've come.”
“And why have you come?” said Ms. Donegall.
Maren's lips quivered. She couldn't imagine being this close to Jeremy and not speaking with him. She had so many questions. “Ms. Donegall, I beg you! The last I saw Jeremy or Jacey, I mean, was three years ago and I need to speak with him!”
“Which is exactly why you won't be speaking with Jacey! His name is Jacey!” Ms. Donegall turned away and was about to take a step when she bumped into none other than Jacey Moon. “Jacey!” she said, startled. Ms. Donegall patted down her hair and adjusted her aqua-marine scarf.
“Madame, I was looking all over for you,” began Jacey. “Kirsten Azure and her party requested a private performance, and I told them I have off for the evening, but she insisted that you said –” Jacey's eyes rested for a second on Maren and his speech trailed off. Stupefied, he tried to concentrate once more on Ms. Donegall. “I'm sorry, that you said that she could–” He glanced back at Maren who was standing petrified beside Ms. Donegall. “I'm sorry,” addressing Maren, “but do I know you from somewhere?”
“Jeremy?” Maren could hardly make the word come out.
Jeremy went quiet, his mouth slightly open. “Maren?” He laughed and flung his arms around her. “Maren! Where did you?” Jeremy took a step back to size her up. “You're beautiful! How? You're not dead!”
“You're not dead!” said Maren, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“But–you're alive!” Jeremy began to wipe away his tears, embracing her once more.
Ms. Donegall adjusted her scarf and cleared her throat. “Ahem! Jacey. JACEY!”
Jeremy ignored her.
“JACEY!” she snapped, finally getting a sideways glance from the Cajjez. “I don't think this is a good idea.”
“Relax, she doesn't know.”
“What don't I know?” said Maren.
“Nothing,” said Jeremy.
“Jacey! Will you stop this insanity? Tell me what's going on.” Ms. Donegall glared at Maren.
Maren unlocked herself from Jeremy's embrace. “What's going on? Is something going on?”
“Will both of you relax!” Jeremy paced back and forth as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Maren, this is Ms. Donegall. This is her estate and I'm the Resident Artist here.” Turning to Ms. Donegall, “And this is Maren Nononia. We go way back. We're childhood friends.”