15. Frankenstein's Successor (15)
Karen met Umon in front of the officials' tent for the Carrying Your Wife Race. When she heard he had brought Nika as his partner and left the prince at Wonderstein's side, her expression grew complicated.
Off in the distance, a girl in a traditional Amur skirt and a man in a black suit were deep in conversation. After sharing a room for the past month, the two looked remarkably close. The girl would shout something, her face flushed, and the man would laugh amiably and humor her.
If this had been earlier in the day, Karen would have been scheming to sabotage them for Maya's sake. But now the will had drained out of her. She knew for a fact that her friend had no chance.
"You know as well, don't you? Did Miss Maya tell you?"
It had not taken Wonderstein long after meeting Karen to notice her watching him and deduce that Maya had told her about that night. Uneasy at the thought that he might have seen through their plan, Karen shot back a question.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"This isn't the sort of thing to shout about in public. I mean... the matter in which I gravely disappointed Miss Maya. Man to woman, as it were."
"Ah..."
A sigh escaped Karen's lips. Could he have realized that Maya had unearthed his secret?
"I was meant to compete in this event with Miss Maya. The sudden request to swap partners... was clearly because of that."
"N-no, that, that wasn't—"
"Heh, and the fact that your attire today is so excessively boyish—was that also in consideration of the same?"
"Ah, well, that is..."
The Karen he knew dressed in a full bodysuit, with only the essential areas covered by a short jacket and shorts. Even a few days ago, she had looked no different. Today, every part of her outfit that might reveal her figure was hidden. No matter how he looked at it, it could only be read as wariness toward his harassment.
The remark about her boyish clothes convinced Karen that he had pierced their scheme entirely. After all, if he already knew Maya had deduced that he was homosexual, then Karen suddenly approaching him like this—even a fool would see through the ploy.
"I-I'm sorry."
"What does Miss Karen have to be sorry for? I'm the one who should apologize. Does Miss Maya... hold me in contempt?"
Karen thought his smile seemed strangely sad. Homosexuality was not a welcome inclination in this age. She could scarcely imagine the misery of having those close to you find out and then being tested like this.
"C-contempt? Absolutely not! Maya is disappointed, it's true... but she still respects you, Troupe Leader! Even if things between you as man and woman are... difficult now... at least as her teacher, she does."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. The request she made for today... she made it because she still has at least some expectations."
"At least some expectations... I see."
Wonderstein nodded as though he understood. Without those, her Affection level would hardly be in the positive range.
Karen sensed the moment had come for him to give a definitive answer, and he obliged her.
"I understand. Then please convey this to Miss Maya: I wish to continue our relationship as Troupe Leader and troupe member, as teacher and student."
She shut her eyes tight. The experiment ending sooner than expected was a mercy, but the result was the polar opposite of what she had hoped. Wonderstein had just declared himself to be an exclusive homosexual. There was no opening for Maya.
"My continuing the massages will also be difficult for Miss Maya, I imagine."
"Yes..."
"Please also tell her that I will entrust that matter to Mr. Carlson from now on."
Karen sighed, picturing her friend's despairing face.
"Understood..."
Karen sprinted to the spectator stands and delivered the news. The Troupe Leader had seen through every move they had made, and he had firmly drawn the line: their relationship would extend no further than troupe leader and member, teacher and student.
Maya went rigid as stone, then collapsed to the ground. She seemed utterly crushed.
"I'll go to the officials' tent and return our number tag! Since the boss said there's no need for him to join the race with you! Wait here!"
Karen turned and ran toward the officials' tent. When she glanced back a few paces later, Maya had vanished from the spot.
Had she used telekinesis? Or turned invisible? Either way, she was gone. Likely she wanted to be alone.
So Karen trudged on with heavy steps to forfeit their entry. Along the way she ran into Umon and heard the story about Nika.
"It's the first time she's ever worn that outfit? Isn't she taking this race too lightly? What if a difficult maneuver comes up as a challenge? Miss Nika hasn't even trained in acrobatics."
"And what about the Troupe Leader, then? Wearing a formal suit to a running race—isn't he the one treating the contest too lightly?"
"Heh, you know my magic, don't you? I can change clothes in the blink of an eye. I'm more worried about Nika. Shall we do a quick practice run, then?"
"What? Kyaaah!"
Karen watched as Wonderstein wrapped his arm around Nika's waist and hoisted her into the air, rotating her halfway before settling her onto his shoulder. With a startled shriek, Nika flailed her limbs and clamped her arms around his head. A moment later, she was scowling and slapping his skull with both palms. The blows looked fairly heavy, but Wonderstein only laughed.
The two of them seemed to be enjoying themselves. No matter how Karen looked at it, standing up Wonderstein when he was clearly looking forward to the race—all because of Maya's plan and her own—left a sour taste in her mouth. Their intentions hadn't even been good. They'd meant to test his feelings.
But with their scheming already exposed, stepping in as his partner herself would only make things uncomfortable for both of them. If she simply paired those two together instead...
"Carrying a man on my back..."
Umon's grumbling reached her ear. He still seemed unhappy about having to carry Nika.
Maya had likely wandered off somewhere alone regardless. In that case...
"Hey, Umon, want to swap partners?"
***
The troupes entered in the Grand Prix were scrambling from the year's start to strengthen their rosters. Some personally scouted renowned talent, while others gathered applicants through public notices and held competitive trials. Billy and Betty's outfit fell into the latter category.
Betty had cleared a single day in the middle of the Amur New Year festival to hold their selection. The trial was straightforward: demonstrate a signature skill with a trained animal. There were only two rules—no caging the creature, and no using violence.
"And today, we've invited a guest to serve as a special judge!"
Having finished explaining the rules, Betty gestured toward one side of the stage. A girl dressed identically to Betty sprang up onto the platform. She waved broadly at the applicants and greeted them.
"Hello, everyone! My name is Ella, and I'm the Deputy Leader of Wonderstein's Monster Circus!"
Her ringing self-introduction set off murmurs throughout the crowd.
"Ella? Not that Ella?"
"Yeah. Wonderstein... the Monster Circus... their deputy."
"The one who made waves at the Rekachev entrance exam and the October Test?"
"That's her. The taming prodigy."
She bobbed her head in a series of small bows. Behind her, Betty whispered in a low voice.
"Thank you. For accepting the invitation."
"I should be the one thanking you. I couldn't pass up a chance to see this many animals show off their skills."
Ella laid a palm over her chest as though trying to steady her thumping heart.
"But is it all right to invite an outsider like me to your troupe's newcomer selection?"
"I told you—you're a special judge. Naturally, I'll make the final call on which applicants are stage-ready. Yours is a different role. Right now, you'll be evaluating people who aren't stage-ready yet but show promise. In other words, think of it as selecting probationary members."
"Ah-ha."
Ella nodded as if that made sense.
"But I'd like to ask you the same thing. Are you sure it's all right for you to be sitting in on someone else's recruitment? You've already got two Stars yourselves. You must need new members too..."
"We already have two internal candidates lined up, so we're fine."
The internal candidates Ella meant were Reina and Clara. Both had already joined the troupe, though they didn't count toward the competition roster of stage-eligible performers. The two had been reluctant to step onto the stage, so the matter had been deferred, but if the troupe truly lacked bodies, adding their names to the register would solve the problem.
"Right, then! Proceed into the tent in the order of your assigned numbers. We'll start with Number One—"
"Wait!"
Just as the selection was about to begin, someone cut Betty off. One of the applicants, a boy who looked to be in his late teens, stepped forward with his hand raised.
"And you are?"
"Contestant Number Forty-Three. Belka."
"Of the Small Forest Choir... Imyar's son, are you?"
Betty recognized him at a glance. At the name Small Forest Choir, the other applicants—Ella included—turned toward him with expressions of surprise.
The Small Forest Choir was an acrobatic troupe equally renowned for its taming work. They were especially famous for their skill with small animals: they would build a miniature forest onstage using real soil and foliage, then weave short dramas with the animals they had trained.
"Right. What's the issue?"
"I have no objection to being judged by Troupe Leader Betty. My mother sent me here to gain experience under you, after all. But I don't see what qualifies that girl over there to judge me."
"Her reputation is fairly substantial, too. And from what I've observed, her skill is every bit a match for it."
"I cannot accept this."
Only then did the crowd register what was happening. A pride fight had broken out between two teenage prodigies in the same discipline. Belka was clearly the one picking a one-sided quarrel, but Ella had stepped up as a judge first—so she couldn't claim to be entirely free of responsibility.
"What do you want to do?"
"I'll take him on. Otherwise the rest of them won't accept my evaluations easily either, will they?"
Ella's eyes blazed with fighting spirit. No hostility lurked in them, though. She had seen the Small Forest Choir perform several times. It was one of the troupes she admired.
Back when she was little, she used to sing about wanting to join Billy and Betty, and her grandfather would suggest that perhaps the Small Forest Choir would suit her better. The Choir really was a better fit for her than Billy and Betty. The children she was currently raising were also small animals, after all.
"How shall we settle it?"
"Let's do 'follow-the-leader.'"
Follow-the-leader was a method often used when trainers who raised similar animals pitted their skills against one another. Each trainer would have their animals display one trick apiece, then each would make their animals imitate the opponent's trick in turn.
Belka drew a brown rat from inside his coat. The creature was the same species as the mice Ella raised.
"I know you raise mice. I keep about thirty of them myself."
"I noticed that from the start. That fur coat you're wearing—those are mice, aren't they?"
At her remark, Belka flinched. Dozens of heads suddenly thrust out from his fur coat and fixed their eyes on Ella. They varied in size and shape, but all were mice with similar brown fur. A few people nearby screamed.
"It's a trick I like to show the audience as an appetizer when I take the stage."
"Not bad. Shall we have our little Jjiksun make an appearance, then?"
Ella snapped her fingers. A pigeon roosting atop the tent swooped in a circle and descended toward her head. A moment later, a white mouse leaped off the bird's back.
Shrill shrieks followed. None of the gruesome crash-landings people were bracing for materialized.
Tied around Jjiksun's neck like a cape was a scarf the same color as Ella's Swallow-Tailed Suit. The instant the mouse jumped, it undid the scarf with its forepaws, then spread its legs so the fabric billowed open like a parachute. The descent slowed sharply with a soft flutter.
Jjiksun fixed its gaze on Ella's hat and made tiny adjustments with its right paw, its left paw, nudging the parachute's heading bit by bit. The onlookers watched the tiny mouse's flight with bated breath. When it finally touched down dead center atop its owner's hat, a roar of applause burst forth.
Jjiksun knelt on its hind legs, arched its body backward as far as it would go, and brandished the scarf as though howling in triumph. The cheers swelled into laughter.
Only one person did not laugh. Belka stared, stone-faced, switching his gaze between Ella and her mouse.
An impressive trick. Teaching a land creature to fly—only a handful of people in his own troupe could pull that off. Had she really reached that level at the same age as him? Agitated, he shook his head vigorously.
No. Troupe Leader Betty must have lent a special hand for today. They probably practiced this for weeks.
Reassuring himself with that thought, Belka straightened his back. What he had just witnessed was merely a greeting. The real contest began now.