Be careful about wishing for fame. Attention isn’t always what you  thought it would be. I should know—I’m as famous as it gets.

Worst part is, you’ll never know who might be watching you.

“But Wendell wouldn’t do that,” the wizard said again, exasperated. “You don’t know that boy—he’s loyal and kind and…”

“Sided with the government faction,” Philburt argued. “We had an agreement and he’s broken it.”

“You don’t know that!” Chuck snapped, “All you’ve seen is what the media’s shown you.”

“I know he never told me he was human. I know that my factories are now plagued with workers who feel they’ve been betrayed by the pilot they cheered on and supported. The pilot they thought was representing them to the rest of the city!” The rich gnome paced in front of the desk, “That’s enough for me to stay away from this whole situation. I have enough problems of my own now—trying to keep the factories running and revolts from starting. There’s a great deal of anger brewing.”

Chuck grabbed his hat from his head and threw it on the ground. “You’re a fool, Bellows, if you can’t see the opportunity staring at your fat face!”

“That’s why we want to form an official alliance,” Deloris chirped in. She quickly moved between the two arguing. “Isn’t that right?”

Motherboards face drew closer in the computer screen, “That’s right, Deloris. This is why we’re here, Bellows. You and I have always had a good working relationship. I’ve done my work and kept you from any of the backlash I may have caused, have I not?”

Philburt looked warily at the screen, “You have.”

“Well I can’t do that anymore. As much as I’d like to assure you, no one can get away from this situation. It is an opportunity we either have to seize together and make it work, or we all go down in flames. If we choose to go our separate ways, we’ll simply go down faster. With Wendell here—and I’m referring to the personage of the Gnolaum, not the boy—there’s a power struggle already in play. My bugs all over this city are buzzing. The factions are making a play for control. Wendell is the piece everyone wants…and we have to get to him first.”

“He’s not a toy!” Chuck growled, “You’re going to get him hurt.”

Motherboards expression softened, “As regrettable as that may be, Morphiophelius, it is a chance I have to take. Every precaution will be taken to protect him—but this is about our people first and foremost.”

“Poppycock. You children don’t have a clue what you’re doing. I was around before this island was even discovered and I say you’re going to create more trouble than you’ll fix. Just leave the boy alone and let him work it out!” He tried hard not to sob, “Help me find my monkey. That’s what you should do.”

Deloris reached over and squeezed the wizards hand.

Philburt Bellows tapped his lips with his index finger, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“Then make a decision without knowing,” Motherboard said in a dial tone, “Your time is running out. We need to act.”

It was too risky. No matter where he turned, there were problems. Gigantic problems and they all centered around the perceptions of the citizens. The Gnolaum was back and the gnomes of the city were split in their beliefs. Was there a way to flip all this around? Bellows looked up, glancing between them. “What’s your plan?”

“The government stole Wendell,” Motherboard grinned, “so we figured we would steal him back.”

****

President Shrub had been right. When the request was made for Dax to be unshackled, there was little concern about safety. Only Ian Twofold had argued. Dax was now in the presidential suite—and if anything happened to the President, they could blame the elf. That’s what Wendell saw. Shrub looked more at ease, but the Hero was uptight and overly cautious. The black suits never seemed to say a word. Are they really under the direction of the President…or are they getting their orders form somewhere else? They have to be plugged into someone, somewhere—don’t they? The little earpieces and concealed firearms…they were dangerous and it made Wendell nervous.

But that wasn’t the biggest problem.

“I don’t want to move to another apartment,” he complained to Ian. “There’s plenty of room here…and I should stay here with Dax. If you’re so concerned about everyone’s safety, then you should let me tale care of him.”

The albino grinned his creepy grin, “That’s all well and good, but he’s safe here. Invisible to the public. You, on the other hand, are growing in popularity—and after the next few shows, people are going to want to talk to you. A lot. You’ll have fans, fanatics, celebrity interviewers. All of which must be kept at arms length from the President. They cannot come here to interview you. So, the logical thing to do is to have a place set aside for your use, that’s all.”

Wendell looked to Shrub, then over the Presidents shoulder to where Dax lay…fast asleep on the couch. “Take of your glasses.”

“Excuse me,” Ian said softly.

“I said,” Wendell repeated, looking back at him, “take off your glasses when you talk to me.” He snatched the glasses from the gnomes face before Ian could react. He grinned as Ian cringed at the light, keeping his lids clenched tight. “I want to see who I’m talking to.”

Running his fingers through his blonde hair, Ian then adjusted his tie. “Ahem. Well there I am. Exposed. Satisfied?” He squinted back uncomfortably.

Grinning, “Perfectly.” Then to the President, “You’re ok with this?”

Shrub pondered for a moment, “I do understand Ian’s point.”

“You’re not serious…”

“I’m not saying I completely agree—but there is wisdom in getting you your own place. You’ll need to be free to move about and interact, Wendell. I’m actually quite excited for you. No you’ll have a platform to speak from and you have all the media to announce it to the whole of the city!” Shrub looked over at Dax, “He’ll be fine here, with me and the children. Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of him.” Then to Ian, “Where’s the apartment located?”

The assistant grinned, having gained ground. “Five floors down. Senators level—so he can rub shoulders with the leaders of the city.”

“Excellent.”

“We made sure he had the largest accommodations available. He can conduct press conferences, events…anything needed without ever having to leave.”

“But I can leave…correct?” Wendell asked pointedly.

Ian smirked, “Of course. You are now free, as our First-Class Fluffiness has stated, wth the key to the city.”

Shrub grinned, “Excellent! Then there shouldn’t be any problems. You can come up here any time you like, Wendell. I’ll make sure each my security understands that.”

Wendell nodded, but he still wasn’t altogether sure it was a good idea leaving Dax. Not so soon after getting him released from the clutches of Mr. Upshot, anyway. There didn’t seem to be much choice in the matter. Not if he wanted to make headway with the people of Clockworks. Man I hope this works. “So I’m expected to do interviews?”

“Absolutely!” cooed Ian, nudging Wendell in the leg. It was a bit too friendly. “We have a short bout with WHRN Prime Time…you remember Dusty and Pip I assume?”

Wendell laughed, “Mostly their backsides.”

Both Ian and Shrub laughed, “Then an intimate little gathering at your new place with Rishima Geebler.”

Wendell moaned.

“Another interview later in the week with Nikki Cadby on the Inside Gnome show.”

“What about The Voice?” asked Shrub.

Ian’s smile faded, “Yes. We were able to get a booking with that…hack. Though I don’t know why you even bother with that faceless…”

“Because he happens to be the most popular radio personality in Clockworks history. One that the people love and trust.” He nudged Wendell, “Educated, respectable and doesn’t take cheap shots—which is always nice.”

“Cheap shots make the programs fun,” argued Ian.

“They soil the content and cloud the mind,” Shrub retorted. “Now take Wendell down to his place and let him get settled in.” Then to Wendell, “Get rested up and come back for dinner if you can, alright?”

Wendell forced himself to smile. He hoped he looked more calm than he felt—his attention lingering on Dax’s prone body. Following Ian into the elevator, he was immediately followed by two black suits. They stood in front, one of them pressing the button down. “What are they here for?” he asked.

“Protection,” Ian said bluntly, “of course.”

****

The apartment they’d arranged for him looked almost as big as the penthouse they had come from. It had a gigantic kitchen, a spacious living room, three bedrooms and even in indoor waterfall of recycled water. Everywhere Wendell looked, there were lush, green plants in beautiful clay pots. Croton, Chinese Evergreens, Dracaena, heart leaf Philodendron, even English Ivy and Boston Ferns. Though there were others with blue bark, pink leaves and furry-looking flowers which didn’t look familiar at all—the very presence of the plant life eased Wendell’s tensions. He breathed easier and relaxed. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

The entire place was furnished, too, but with gnome-sized accommodations.

“We’re working on having some custom furniture built for you as quickly as possible. Should have something by dinner tomorrow at the latest. So,” Ian shrugged, “sorry about the wait.”

Wendell stared at the gnome curiously. A little obsessed with his job, maybe, but nice enough…in his odd way. Well, now that I’m on the right side, anyway. “Thanks.”

Ian nodded. “You know, Wendell—I know I’m not well liked for what I do. It’s my job, you know, but,” he paused, then thought better of it.

“What?”

“I just,” he paused again, but this time, taking his glasses off, so Wendell could see his clear, albino eyes—he looked up. He attempted an awkward smile, which seemed strange, considering how instant and free his smiles were. This was different. “I wanted you to know that I’m glad your here too.” He laughed nervously, then. “Don’t get me wrong—I’ve never really been a religious gnome and certainly not a church goer, but…” The awkward smile softened. Smoothes out and looked more real to Wendell, “If all this is true, I’m starting to think that I’m privileged to be a part of all this.” He slipped his glasses back on, “If that makes any sense.”

Huh. Wendell stared bluntly at the gnome, who slowly started swaying nervously and looked away. Maybe the albino isn’t so bad after all.

A black suit walked out from one of the back bedrooms. “Sir, we’re settled in.”

Ian nodded.

“Settled in?” Wendell asked.

“Yes. For your protection. Oh come now, Wendell, you can’t expect the government to provide all this and introduce you to the city and not take your safety issues seriously.”

“Safety issues? What safety issues?”

“Well we don’t know what they are yet, do we? That’s why we take precautions, so we never have to find out.”

Wendell sighed, his head flopping forward. Back on the leash.

“I’ll send up a taylor, so you can have some clothes made. Can’t have you looking like a typical teenager when conversing with a billion gnomes, now, can we?”

He frowned, “So I’m free to leave. At any time?”

“That’s correct.”

“And I assume wherever I go, these guys’ll go with me?” he shot the stoic gnomes a frustrated glance.

“Also correct.”

Wendell sighed. Make that a choke collar.

****

“That was terrible!” Deloris blurted out, flustered. She pressed the mute button on the remote and sat back on the sofa. Lili sat there next to her, frowning up at the television.

“I’m not sure what you expected,” chuckled Nat, sitting beside them in his wheelchair, “The last time Dusty Beckworth and Pip Flocker tried to interview Wendell, he popped out of his gnome skin and sent them sprinting for the pits!” He laughed, “It doesn’t matter what you call him, I’d guess those two are still terrified of Wendell.”

“The government’s going to milk this for all it’s worth,” Deloris sighed. “No. The press will. Turn all this on its head and hit that boy over the head with it! Poor Wendell.”

“Glad to see someone believes me about him,” Chuck blurted out. The wizard had sat there, completely silent during the interview, gritting his teeth with each question. “They set him up—that’s what’a happening. He’s being manipulated so he can’t say what’s on his mind or in his heart.” He jumped up from his chair, snatched the hat from his head and threw it onto the ground, “Mahan’s Pink Panties—this city can’t hear what they need to hear with these media moron filters in place!!”

“We got to know Wendell long enough to know he’s not a traitor, Chuck,” she replied, “I’ve also been in his mind. I don’t believe for a moment, that he would betray a soul. There has to be more to this than what we’re seeing.”

****

“Oh, I don’t think it was completely horrible,” Ian tried to reassure Wendell.

“Really?”

The gnome fidgeted, then swallowed. “Actually no. It was pretty bad.” He flipped open the leather pad and pulled out his silver pen, “Luckily we’ve spoken with Ms. Geebler and let her know her job could be in jeopardy if she pulls a stunt like those boys in there,” he grinned slyly, “no matter who she’s dating.”

Wendell did a double take, seeing that distasteful smile on the albino’s face—which he knew was in his behalf. It felt…dirty, like he was cheating. Well, dad always did say that sometimes when you’re dealing with snakes, sometimes you have to go find yourself a bigger snake of your own. Ian was most assuredly a snake…who loved every moment of his job.

With two guards in front of them and two more behind, the approached the station doors.

“What’s going on?” Wendell asked, flinching at the sounds of screams and…is that cheering I hear? The closer they got to the glass doors, the more he could see the bright-eyed faces of the public, holding up their hands—trying to peer through the mirrored glass.

“That, Mr. Dipmier, is your adoring public,” Ian said smugly. “Granted, some of them are plants by us to get the ball rolling, but the rest of the people will catch on soon enough.”

“You…paid people to cheer for me?” Wendell gawked.

“Goodness no!” gasped the gnome, “We would never pay people to do such a thing. That would be unethical! Corrupt! Why I’m shocked to think we would use such tactics and waste the hard earned credits of tax-payers!”

Wendell smiled, “Good.”

“We blackmailed them.”

Yes, this is my snake, Wendell sighed, the gopher-gnome from hell.

Doors opened to what appeared at first to be several thousand gnomes, huddled along the sidewalks, crouched in corners and even standing on vehicles. All to get a good look at the human now known as the Gnolaum.

“There he is!”

“Woah—he’s TALL!”

“Of course he’s tall, stupid—he’s a human!”

“The Gnolaum isn’t supposed to be human, is he?”

“I thought the Gnolaum was a gnome…”

Comments flew through the air as countless camera flashes exploded…everyone wanting a shot of the hero.

One of the flashes went off in Wendell’s face as he turned around. The sudden jolt startled the hero and he stepped backwards, tripping over Ian’s foot. “W-w-woah!” Arms flailing, Wendell tumbled backwards and onto the ground.

“Are you alright sir?” asked one of the security team, leaning forward to offer a hand.

Pop.

The sound was followed by a wheezing noise. The sound of a last breath.

Wendell noticed a small trickle of blood drip down the side of the gnomes mouth…followed by a growing patch of red on his shirt. He fell forward, onto the hero.

Dead.

“SNIPER!” roared the closest black suit and within a blink of an eye, Wendell was blanketed by broad bodies.

“Get him to the van!” Ian yelled and instantly they were in motion.

The dead gnome was left on the ground as the remainder of the detail pulled Wendell into the bullet-proof vehicle and slammed the door shut. The driver peeled away from the studio entrance and raced down the street, skidding around the corner and making for the expressway.

Across the street and above the lights of the electric WHRN advertisement, a shadow picked up his pen and applied it to the notepad.

So he took the shot, using the opportunity to see if the hired detail was as efficient as they looked. Not a chance. This left one option in his mind. Whomever hired the bodyguards wasn’t overly concerned about keeping the mark alive. Convenient, considering that for once, John Gain didn’t have to make the death look like an accident. On the contrary…he was being paid to make it look as messy and as public as possible.

Sliding the pen into his breast pocket, he made a mental note to check the postal box and see if his new laptop had arrived.