“What do we do now?” Doe took his place in the passenger seat once the door of the hovercar clicked close. In the safety and privacy of the vehicle, he relaxed his defensive mode and the vigilant eyes that had been observing those who looked Hoya’s focus on properly setting the small box of cake on the backseat and securing it with a seat belt.

As he did that, Hoya manually tinted her windshield whilst un-shielding the discreetly placed solar panels with a few presses against the screen in front of her. “First University.” According to Doe’s information, their heroine was First University’s…

What was it again?

“Is she a student, graduate, researcher, professor?” Just saying she was ‘from first university’ now seemed a little too broad of a description when she was looking for one, single person in an institution with thousands of people. “No, you wouldn’t know.” Hoya bit her lower lip in thought. Her hand on the steering wheel controlled the hovercar with ease as it smoothly joined the main road traffic.

“Check their public records for anything with outstanding people, a woman…ah,” She slid into the right lane that would allow her to make the turn at the upcoming intersection. “Check through articles, competitions, promotional campaigns…”

The tech industry was competitive, with engineers and interested parties looking for ways to make new and improved devices and break through the inhibitions,  and that spirit carried on even deeper when it came to school rivalries. As a result, institutions were quick to proudly display any notable students, alumni, staff and accomplishments on public sites. Or, at the very least, they would publish something about them, a mention, even in an article.

When that was impossible, their best and brightest would someway, somehow end up being displayed somewhere in a flyer, billboard or on their web page- especially when they had a face that should be recognised by those whose day and night, hobby or interest was in their field.

In short, any and everywhere could be a lead.

“Mechanical Engineering department, ten results;  Civil Engineering, twelve results; Electrical Engineering, 13; aerospace, 5…Weapons Engineering and  Armament Technology, 3…”

“That's it,” Hoya accelerated slightly. Fortunately, the post lunch mid-afternoon traffic was relatively light in this part of town where most offices had restaurants and cafes that served a bulk of the workforce around.

“If she’s going to be with the military department, she’ll be with the Weapons Engineering and  Armament Technology department.”It might have been a little too obvious of a choice, nut when she had no clue, she had to grab the most plausible rope hanging in front of her. 

From the side, Doe got to work, “I’ll pull up their information.” Seconds later, he was supplying her with the details, “ Kuukua Forson, currently a professor, teaches full time. Amato Mane, a part time researcher and alumni, and Joy King, national top scorer in the entrance exam two years ago.”

A professor, a researcher, a student.

Hoya’s fingers tapped against her steering wheel. In more open road, her foot pressed lightly against the accelerator pedal.

With a deep inhale, Hoya’s tapping ceased. Like the air trapped in her lungs, she held the tan steering wheel tightly. With a slow exhale, she softened her grip.

“You said Chouxbun wrote this as an online novel. How did you know it was romance fiction? Did you see the tags?”

“The tags,” Doe ran through his database. From working with Hoya for so long, he had become accustomed to her online reading preference and so things like ‘tags’ and their importance had become things he was familiar with. “I’m coming up with nothing except ‘romance’ “

“That’s it?” Hoya’s rounded brows furrowed. Normally, there would be more tags than that in an online novel. These things like character traits, personalities, contexts, were lures  for  target or curious audiences wanting to see what a genre or sub-genre could entail. It also had the opposite effect, like a warning or ‘reader beware’

Either way, tags helped writers with niche audiences and readers with curated reading histories.

Doe had said Chouxbun was getting out of their writer’s block, so they weren't new, or at least so new, that they would have missed such an important detail.

Well, that was for later. Right now, Hoya’s concern was that she didn’t have any details to single out one of these women as the female lead. If they had said ‘older love interest’ she would have focused on Kuukua.  Even if she was young and gifted,  Chouxbun had made a show of stating how young the Major General was so he would definitely be younger than her. With a ‘Younger love interest’ tag, she would have begun with the student.

Haaa…Should she be grateful it wasn’t something like ‘genius protagonist’, ‘gifted protagonist’ or ‘hardworking protagonist’ that at first glance looked hopeful but in reality were nothing but one size fits all cloaks for the three women?

Then, where should she start? There was hierarchy, going to the professor to begin with. But something like that would need an appointment or a well  timed run in. Without knowing the Professor’s schedule, that would be near impossible to predict.

“Scoping around till I get it right isn’t an option either.” She couldn’t afford to be so conspicuous. “And if the researcher is anything like my brothers,” Hoya contemplated as she entered the main road that took her straight to The First University. “She’ll be harder to meet.” After all, they spent much of their research and development time holed up in their labs and testing sites.

But the plus side was just that- She would be in one place.

Compared to a student who might have been moving from place to place, lecture to lecture, site to site, a researcher would be easier to tra-

Wait. 

Hoya paused mid thought and her face crunched with an obvious displeasure. She turned to Doe, "doesn’t this sound a bit  stalkerish?” Digging up their names, going to their workplace, looking for them in the halls or finding their schedules...she shuddered. 

The bot who was silently completing his task looked at her innocently, as if to say "‘I’m simply a robot doing what I've been asked. You, Miss Hoya, are the one in charge."

“Way to wash your hands of this,” Hoya clucked her tongue disapprovingly. Some fair weather friend you are, her eyes responded before turning back to the road. Anyway, she reasoned with herself, she wasn’t going beyond public information and she certainly, definitely, absolutely would not snoop into their personal lives simply because she was curious.

She just...had to know a few details...that nagging intrigue egged her on. 

No, no, no- Reason stepped in-  in any normal situation she wouldn’t do so much so publicly.

That’s right, Hoya nodded, agreeing with herself. This was bizarre by any account. If anyone heard her say they lived in a book world and she needed to get a fair understanding of their protagonist to understand the true context of their daily lives, and maybe even past and future events, who would believe her? Hell, she wouldn’t believe her.

At best they would be worried, and at worst they might think she needed institutionalisation. If that happened, the tabloids would pounce on the house of Gold and its industries like hyenas in the dry season, starved and ready to draw blood for their nourishment.

“Tch.” Just thinking about it was enough to steel her resolve with a momentum that propelled her all the way to the main entrance of the First University and into the vast car park in front of the Weapons Engineering department.

In any case, this was the best course of action. At least, for now. 

                                                                             

                                                                       ***

Just as she would have imagined a modern, or at the time it was built a futuristic,  site for all things dangerous technology, the faculty building was imposingly large with reinforced glass and steel panelling and pillars everywhere they could be placed.

At its core it was no doubt for security, but the aesthetic value was undeniable. Unlike Gold industries that kept some  of its concrete, wood and brick structures , there was no softness here and even the well manicured lawn lost some of its freshness when, between every few feet, there was some metal structure in honour of the various weapons from their school that had won several competitions over the years.

Among them,  her eyes landed on the sculpture of the prototype for a miniature silent laser and mecha prosthetic arms with more fluidity and strength, originally,  for fellow mechanics  and engineers who had unfortunately been injured for their cause.

From where Hoya was parked, she couldn’t make out the names of the engineers and mechanics responsible for creating them, but the corners of her lips quirked up all the same.

Tap, tap tap. A security guard knocked on her raised tinted window.

Hoya who, for the sake of convenience, had put on brown contacts, thick framed glasses,  replaced her heels with sneakers she stowed away in the backseat and covered her torso with an oversize shirt, disguising her silhouette and the stylish crisscross top of her jumpsuit.

Oh, and she had taken down her ponytail so her loose her covered some of her face.

Phew.

She was nimble, but sudden manoeuvres in small spaces like this were still tasking. You would think they would have thought to make cars have more room. In the past she would have been content and argued back that more room meant bulkier vehicles but now, seeing as she was in a bookworld, as a fantasy reader she couldn't help but grumble over how the author could have written that there was such a thing as spatial devices with capacities that did nothing to take away from their physical lightness and convenience. 

She was just saying, if it could be done...why skimp out? 

Anyway, lore and canon world-building aside: 

“Yes?” Hoya rolled down the window and her voice was lowered slightly so that the light, warm gentleness she had cultivated to its optimum effectiveness and clarity was a lot more unsteady. Like a student trying to sound more confident in their newfound freedom and maturity even though they were still extremely wet behind the ears.

“This is a faculty only car park,” the man lowered himself to lean against her door- Doe made a move to hover between the stranger and Hoya, but her hand quickly stopped him. “You’ll have to park closer to the side entrance.”  He pointed to some distance at the other end of the building.

It wasn’t that driving there would be inconvenient, or that it would make walking back to the main entrance a hassle, it was just that: “Faculty parking?” Hoya looked around for the second time since she had found this spot and found that there was no such sign.

“There was a sign, but,” he gestured with his head towards the building in a way that indicated he had done this one too many times,  “recently, they’ve been testing old canons and our markers suffered casualties.”

All of them? Hoya cocked her head to the side but didn’t question it either. Who was she to argue against the validity of a place notoriously housing undergoing some, apparently, commonplace, damage.

Perhaps, seeing the way her eyes moved about the place in search of the battleground’s sites,  the guard remarked. “You’re not a student here?”

“I’m not,” the smile remained on Hoya’s face, light and a little unassuming. There was no point in lying to someone at a time and place where she could be soundly exposed - Student card? None. Checking the student records? A bust. Right now, her motivations were more legitimate than some random one and, fortunately, it wasn’t out of place since universities like these were open to visitors, parents and students looking around and grabbing prospectus’. So, the lines flowed naturally from her mouth, “I’m a little interested in mecha development and I wanted to take a look around, maybe get into a few open lectures?”

Did she sound like a determined enough hopeful student? “If not, it's enough to just walk around. I hear there are a few installations showing the history of the department.”

Seemingly convinced,  the guard nodded. “There aren’t any special lectures, those are usually on Wednesdays or Fridays. You can check the department’s web page for that.” Then, as if something suddenly struck him, he quickly added, “but there’s a small exhibit going on today. It wasn’t widely advertised but if you ask the information desk you might be allowed in.”

“There’s an exhibit today? Is it right now?” Hoya sat up and in her enthusiasm, her head nearly bumped against the ceiling of her hover car. She had come here on an inkling, an idea that maybe she could just maybe, on the slimmest of possibilities meet the heroine. But, but she never expected things would turn out this well?

She had to say, the coincidence was a little bit much, right? It was almost some protagonist level fortuitous timing.

Clik!

The four car locks pushed down, firmly securing her vehicle against any intruders.

Just when Hoya, out of habit, was about to pull the discrete door handle to make sure it was locked-  “Excuse me!” The guard who had helped Hoya find parking called her. Her hand stilled before it touched the sun warmed handle and she tilted her head lightly to meet him.

Only, instead of his face, her eyes landed on the blue brochure he was waving about in his hands. “I ran into someone from the exhibit. Looks like you're in luck,” he smiled as he approached her, “apparently there’s room for a few more people to squeeze in. All you have to do is show security your ID and you should be good.”

Hoya had just taken the brochure when her hand jerked slightly. Just when she thought it was getting too good to be true. Hoya squinted, “show security?” As in, him, security? Not good. Trying to steer the conversation away, Hoya asked, “is this an exclusive event? I don’t have to get in if it's off limits.”

Really, she didn’t. Forget a protagonist’s luck, this was a Trojan horse if Hoya ever saw one. A nosy around an exhibit in exchange for blowing her own cover? No. Thank. You.

“Are you sure?” His brows that were raised in surprise dropped, just like the opportunity she any weapons tech student would have clamoured for  that was soundly let go off.

Walking towards the door, Hoya waved, “I am, but thank you.” And then, she stepped through the doors and into the cool, air conditioned reception room.

Fixing her already folded collar, Hoya beamed at the receptionist. “Hello,” she greeted with a smile that reached her eyes, warm and friendly, as if she was the one welcoming you into her space. “I heard there was an exhibit going on and I was wondering if there’s any part of the block that’s off limits?”

“Only the testing room where it's being held,” the receptionist answered as he pulled out a piece of paper. He was about to write something when he noticed the brochure in Hoya’s hand. “You have one of those?” The smile that had been on his face for the shortest of seconds dissipated as he stretched out his hand for it. “I was worried I'd have to draw a map from scratch.”

The awkward smile on the receptionist’s face was all Hoya needed to determine that the place was either a winding made too complicated to be remembered, or he was new. The moment he opened the brochure and circled out a path, Hoya got her answer - the plans were more convoluted than she had imagined.

For a small building to house a select few of the best of the best, it had a network of underground facilities that overlapped and connected through a network of corridors.

Trust the engineers. Or was it the architects?

"..."

Those who drew up the plans and got it standing. 

“Thank goodness,” the receptionist sighed and wrote the last piece of information down. “ they're in the Iron Room.” He pointed to the first underground layer. “If you want to stay clear of the exhibit and its attendees, just stay clear of the circle here. Though I don’t see why you wouldn want to. I heard some of the guests are reps from the biggest names in tech right now. They might recruit a few promising students before anyone else gets the chance during the next robotics competition. If you're lucky you might get an internship.”

Without anything to present? Hoya doubted it.

Still, that didn’t stop her from flipping through the brochure to have a look at the ‘biggest names’ on site. Toy companies, amusement centres, security firms, electronics companies, hospital utilities reps…

To make sure she was heading in the right direction, and to prevent herself from colliding into any oncoming traffic, Hoya lifted her head up from time to time.

Aside from one or two people, the hallways were deserted so, when  footsteps joined hers from behind, they were especially loud. Not to mention, steady, even, unhurried yet purposeful.Whatever turn she took, they followed.

Hoya flipped the page of the brochure, completely unbothered. They were in a popular department in a prestigious school on a day it was hosting what would be an eye catching event for industry professionals and hopefuls. It was no wonder that someone was going in the same direction as her.

Plus, Hoya thought as she looked up at the blinking red dot on the black bulb on the ceiling, there was nothing for her to worry about. Ah, too bad she had to leave Doe in the car. He was the one that usually took care of things like this when they got a little too stimulating. Unfortunately, he was a bit too eye-catching here.

The more Hoya walked, the more sure of that point she became. Not by accident,she had taken all the turns that led to the Iron Room and into a small crowd of pairs and mini groups discussing the items in the exhibit.

From what Hoya could hear, there were a range of items from home appliances to miscellaneous aesthetic gadgets. Well, considering the mismatch of names on the brochure, it wasn't surprising that there was no common theme except that they were all metalwork designed and produced by students of the university.

From the look of things it didn’t even look like they were from the Weapons Manufacturing department alone.

Trying to sneak a peek without having to walk through security, Hoya stood at the side, her back pressed against a wall as she naturally flipped through the brochure as if she was looking for something specific before going in.

Between every few lines she glossed over, Hoya observed the people walking in. Security didn’t stop them.  Huh, her lips pinched in thought. Maybe if she looked enough like a student?

Trying her luck, Hoya waited for a small group of brochure students to walk past her. And, like she was one of them, she walked beside them, head up and eyes relaxed. To sweeten up her act, Hoya didn’t forget to offer a greeting nod and a small polite smile.

When the gesture was returned, Hoya’s smile deepened.

She was safe.