Chapter 74: Kurva

That evening at dinner, Joan led Michael to a vacant table at the far end of the banquet hall. She had to share what she'd learned with him while it was still somewhat fresh in her mind, and she needed as much privacy to discuss it with him as possible. Tamara trailed them as usual, scanning the banquet hall for threats before taking a seat beside Joan.

Joan repeated what she remembered of the tales told in the waiting room to Michael, but before he could respond, a loud, "Kurva!" drew her attention to an approaching Slavic man with a friendly smile.

Tamara jumped to her feet. "State your intentions."

Without the business suit, it took Joan a moment to recognize the small-time CEO she and the Kaiba brothers had dined with at the Silicon Valley Game Developers Summit. "It's all right. I know him. Kinda. What was your name again?"

"I'm Jan. I apologize if I unsettled your bodyguard. I'd heard a rumor you were here and didn't believe it until I laid eyes on you. May I join you?"

"Uh . . ." Joan hesitated. As much as she wanted some peace and quiet with Michael, nobody here rejected company, especially not with five vacant chairs. "Sure."

Jan sat beside Tamara but addressed Joan. "So, what brings you here?

"I've been volunteering since I graduated high school, and I roped my husband into volunteering with me," Joan squeezed Michael. "What about you?"

"My son has been competing for the past five years. Another parent coaches his team, so I've always volunteered as their judge. This is our first international tournament and we're very proud of our team."

"Nice! Which performance?"

"My son is competing in Mechanical Marvels, and I'm judging Creative Conveyances."

"Cool! My high school team always competed in Mechanical Marvels or Creative Conveyances, and I judged those my first few years, but then I got stuck as a regional performance captain for Timeless Treasures."

"My my, Kurva. I had no idea you were so high on the totem pole around here."

Michael drew close to Joan while keeping a sharp eye on Jan. "Why is he calling you Kurva?"

"Because we're not allowed to say the W-word," Joan said.

Jan chuckled. "Yes, we had quite the debate over that this morning when the Creative Conveyances IPC told us about the penalty."

Joan smirked. "So you found a loophole."

"Indeed. Could I ask a small favor?"

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

"Depends on what it is," Joan said.

"May I have an autograph for my son? He was disappointed when he learned I'd spoken with the Kaibas but had nothing to show for it."

"Only if you can keep a secret," Joan replied.

"A secret? I would be honored by your confidence. I will take any secret you entrust to me to my grave."

Michael placed a hand on Joan's forearm. His thoughts infused into her as his brain underwent a mild zap. «How do you know you can trust this guy?»

«He's harmless,» Joan replied.

«Really?»

Joan focused on Jan's aura, using the same technique she'd used to examine the tarot card reader's aura. Pure curiosity danced there, bright and silvery in a sea of pink, eagerly drinking up the sights and sounds Imagination of the Mind tournaments invariably provided. A glimmer of hope that she might offer him her services twinkled, but an even larger hope that she wouldn't even bring up the topic loomed. While he enjoyed flirting with the unknown and seeing things from new perspectives, he didn't want to dive in over his head. No malice tarnished his aura. «Really — he's just a typical Imagination of the Mind kind of guy,» Joan relayed to Michael.

«If Woman says so.»

"First of all, do you believe in magic?" Joan levitated Jan's water goblet and slowly spun it.

Jan eyed the swirling water and chuckled. "That's quite an impressive trick, but magic's just science we don't understand yet."

"Arthur C. Clarke," Joan replied, "and I tend to agree, but I don't fully understand this myself."

"You can stop it now," Michael said.

Joan set down the goblet. "Sorry. Male's head hurts when I do that."

Michael whined and cuddled up to her, and she stroked his head. Jan's eyes widened with concern.

"Whether we understand it or not," Joan continued, "let's pretend for a moment that every culture's mythology has some truth to it. If you need a scientific explanation, blame it on aliens if that helps."

Jan stroked his chin. "I see. If that is so, and deities roam the earth, why don't we see them on a day-to-day basis?"

"There could be any number of reasons. Perhaps they're too busy fighting each other to deal with mere mortals. Perhaps they have some sort of pact against picking on the weak. Perhaps they only mess with mortals when one of us really pisses them off."

"All right, Kurva. My imagination is at your disposal."

"Let's say that, out of the blue, Hera comes crashing through your window and lays a curse on you."

"Hera the Greek goddess?"

"Yes, that one. How would you go about breaking the curse?"

"I would find a stronger god to intercede."

"All right, but which gods are stronger? How would you know?"

"You say every culture's mythology in this world is true?"

"That's my assumption for now."

"Then the answer is obvious. Go to the one most people still worship today: Allah, Jehovah, Adonai, or just God with a capital G if you prefer."

Michael laughed. "Your mom is going to love this."

Joan turned to look at Michael. "Will you come to Mass with me?"

"Male knows this is important to Woman and he's willing to go, but Man may need to walk out early if he starts feeling like he interrupt the sermon with an outburst."

"Thanky, Male." Joan took a deep breath. "It's probably better if you don't have to go through that, so I'll ask Marc and Mokuba to see if they're willing to join me instead."

Jan tilted his head and furrowed his brow. "So you've seriously been cursed by Hera?"

"Yep. That's the secret. Don't go spilling it," Joan said.

"You have my word . . . but what's the curse?"

"I'd rather not talk about it right now. I only want to focus on how to break it."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault at all. Hey, what about that autograph I promised you?"

"Ah yes, thank you." Jan pulled out an Imagination of the Mind International Tournament program booklet and a pen. Joan signed it Mrs. Kaiba and handed it back to Jan. Their conversation went back to brighter topics and, for a time, Joan forgot about the curse.